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{"url":"http:\/\/eprints.iisc.ernet.in\/13098\/","text":"Home | About | Browse | Latest Additions | Advanced Search | Contact | Help\n\n# Crystal growth of semiorganic sodium p-nitrophenolate dihydrate from aqueous solution and their characterization\n\nVanishri, S and Brahadeeswaran, S and Bhat, HL (2005) Crystal growth of semiorganic sodium p-nitrophenolate dihydrate from aqueous solution and their characterization. In: The 14th International Conference on Crystal Growth and the 12th International Conference on Vapor Growth and Epitaxy, Feb 15 2005, e141-e146.\n\n PDF ggg.pdf Restricted to Registered users only Download (322Kb) | Request a copy\n\n## Abstract\n\nSodium p-nitrophenolate dihydrate $(NPNa.2H_2O)$, is a semiorganic nonlinear optical crystal which is reported to have an effective nonlinear optical coefficient of 5 pm\/V. The crystal is usually grown from methanol. By suitably varying the growth parameters, we obtained stable, transparent, sodium p-nitrophenolate dihydrate using water as a solvent. Large single crystals of the dimension $20 \\times 17 \\times 8 mm^3$were grown by a temperature-lowering method. Preliminary characterizations were carried out on the grown sample and compared with methanol-grown $NPNa.2H_2O$. The optical transmission study on these crystals revealed that the crystals grown from aqueous solution have a higher percentage of transmission, thereby favourably affecting optical performance.\n\nItem Type: Conference Paper This article copyright belongs to Elsevier A1. Solubility; A2. Growth from solutions; A2. Single-crystal growth; B2. Nonlinear optic materials Division of Physical & Mathematical Sciences > Physics 27 Feb 2008 19 Sep 2010 04:42 http:\/\/eprints.iisc.ernet.in\/id\/eprint\/13098\n\n### Actions (login required)\n\n View Item","date":"2014-10-21 04:29:43","metadata":"{\"extraction_info\": {\"found_math\": true, \"script_math_tex\": 0, \"script_math_asciimath\": 0, \"math_annotations\": 0, \"math_alttext\": 0, \"mathml\": 0, \"mathjax_tag\": 0, \"mathjax_inline_tex\": 1, \"mathjax_display_tex\": 0, \"mathjax_asciimath\": 0, \"img_math\": 0, \"codecogs_latex\": 0, \"wp_latex\": 0, \"mimetex.cgi\": 0, \"\/images\/math\/codecogs\": 0, \"mathtex.cgi\": 0, \"katex\": 0, \"math-container\": 0, \"wp-katex-eq\": 0, \"align\": 0, \"equation\": 0, \"x-ck12\": 0, \"texerror\": 0, \"math_score\": 0.7032062411308289, \"perplexity\": 11546.111265539872}, \"config\": {\"markdown_headings\": true, \"markdown_code\": true, \"boilerplate_config\": {\"ratio_threshold\": 0.3, \"absolute_threshold\": 20, \"end_threshold\": 15, \"enable\": false}, \"remove_buttons\": true, \"remove_image_figures\": true, \"remove_link_clusters\": true, \"table_config\": {\"min_rows\": 2, \"min_cols\": 3, \"format\": \"plain\"}, \"remove_chinese\": true, \"remove_edit_buttons\": true, \"extract_latex\": true}, \"warc_path\": \"s3:\/\/commoncrawl\/crawl-data\/CC-MAIN-2014-42\/segments\/1413507443883.29\/warc\/CC-MAIN-20141017005723-00092-ip-10-16-133-185.ec2.internal.warc.gz\"}"} | null | null |
Dilip Kumar (; * 11. Dezember 1922 in Peschawar; † 7. Juli 2021 in Mumbai, bürgerlicher Name: Yusuf Khan) war ein indischer Filmschauspieler. Zwischen 1944 und 1998 spielte er in insgesamt rund 65 Kinofilmen; er galt als eine der großen Filmlegenden seines Landes.
Leben und Werk
Kumar wuchs gemeinsam mit seinen elf Geschwistern in Maharashtra auf. 1944 arbeitete er als Kellner in Pune und als Obsthändler in Mumbai, als er von Devika Rani entdeckt wurde. Er gab im selben Jahr sein Filmdebüt in Amiya Chakravartys Jwar Bhata. Dilip Kumar spielte einen unglücklichen Liebhaber, eine Rolle, die er aufgrund seines überzeugenden Spiels wieder und wieder verkörperte. 1949 feierte Kumar in dieser Rolle einen ersten großen Erfolg in Mehboob Khans Film Andaz (gemeinsam mit Nargis und Raj Kapoor) und 1955 in Devdas von Bimal Roy.
Dilip Kumar zählte neben seinen Kollegen Raj Kapoor und Dev Anand zu den wichtigsten Stars des Hindi-Urdu-Films der 1950er und 1960er Jahre. Mit dem Film Mughal-e-Azam (1960), in dem er Jahangir – den Sohn Akbars (dieser dargestellt von Prithviraj Kapoor) – spielte, hatte er erneut einen Riesenerfolg und stand auf dem Höhepunkt seiner Karriere. Dicht darauf folgte 1961 sein nächster Blockbuster Ganga Jamuna. Bekannt war Kumar, der als einer der ersten indischen Method Actor galt, insbesondere für seine tragischen und dramatischen Rollen, weshalb er den Spitznamen "The Tragedy King" erhielt.
Ab den 1970er-Jahren bis zu seinem letzten Film 1998 trat er seltener vor die Kamera. 1982 spielte er in dem Film Shakti von Ramesh Sippy gemeinsam mit dem neuen Star Amitabh Bachchan, der seinen Sohn spielt. Kumar gewann für seine Rolle einen Filmfare Award.
Ab 2000 war Kumar Mitglied des Oberhauses im Indischen Parlament. Er war von 1966 bis zu seinem Tod mit der Schauspielerin Saira Banu (* 1944) verheiratet. Dilip Kumar starb im Juli 2021 im Alter von 98 Jahren nach längerer Krankheit.
Auszeichnungen
1995 erhielt Dilip Kumar den höchsten indischen Preis für Filmschaffende, den Dadasaheb Phalke Award. Er wird als "König der Tragödie" des indischen Films bezeichnet und wurde achtfacher Preisträger des Filmfare Award als Bester Hauptdarsteller und auch mit dem Filmfare Award für das Lebenswerk ausgezeichnet. 1998 wurde ihm als erst zweitem Inder der höchste Zivilorden Pakistans, der Nishan-e-Imtiaz, verliehen. 2015 wurde er mit dem Padma Vibhushan ausgezeichnet.
Filmografie (Auswahl)
1944: Jwar Bhata
1948: Nadiya Ke Par
1948: Shaheed
1949: Andaz
1951: Deedar
1952: Mangala – Indische Liebe und Leidenschaft (Aan)
1952: Daag
1954: Amar
1955: Devdas
1955: Azaad
1957: Naya Daur
1958: Madhumati
1958: Yahudi
1960: Mughal-e-Azam
1960: Kohinoor
1961: Gunga Jumna – Der Kampf der Brüder (Gunga Jumna) (auch Drehbuchautor und Produzent)
1964: Leader (auch Drehbuchautor)
1967: Ram Aur Shyam
1968: Aadmi
1970: Gopi
1971: Guddi (Cameo-Auftritt)
1972: Koshish
1974: Naya Din Nai Raat
1981: Kranti
1982: Shakti
1982: Vidhaata
1984: Mashaal
1986: Karma
1989: Kanoon Apna Apna
1991: Saudagar
1998: Qila
Weblinks
Einzelnachweise
Filmschauspieler
Rajya-Sabha-Mitglied
Träger des Padma Vibhushan
Träger des Dadasaheb Phalke Award
Träger des Padma Bhushan
Pseudonym
Inder
Geboren 1922
Gestorben 2021
Mann | {
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Următor » | {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaCommonCrawl"
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\section{Introduction}
\label{sec:introduction}
Machine learning methods are becoming increasingly popular in quantum chemistry as a means to circumvent expensive \textit{ab initio} calculations and led to advances in a broad range of applications, including the construction of potential energy surfaces~\citep{behler2007generalized, bartok2010gaussian, smith2017ani, chmiela2017machine, chmiela2018towards, christensen2019operators, Batzner2021_e3nn_molecular_dynamics,unke2020machine}, prediction of electron densities and density functionals~\citep{snyder2012finding,brockherde2017bypassing, ryczko2018deep,grisafi2018transferable,nagai2020completing, bogojeski2020quantum}, and development of models capable of predicting a range of physical observables across chemical space~\citep{rupp2012fast,Montavon2013a,de2016comparing, schutt2017quantum,schutt2017schnet,schutt2018schnet,pronobis2018many, eickenberg2018solid,unke2019physnet,von2020exploring,Chen2021_e3nn_phonon, schutt2021equivariant, unke2021spookynet}. Typically, such models are trained on reference data for a predetermined set of quantum chemical properties and need to be retrained if other properties are required. However, if a model is capable of predicting the wavefunction, expectation values for \emph{any} observable can be derived from it. Unfortunately, such an approach is complicated by the fact that wavefunctions are typically expressed in terms of rotationally equivariant basis functions, introducing non-trivial transformations under molecular rotations, which are difficult to learn from data. To solve this issue, we propose several SE(3)-equivariant operations for deep learning architectures for geometric point cloud data, which capture the effects of rotations without needing to learn them explicitly. We assemble these building blocks to construct PhiSNet, a novel
deep learning (DL) architecture for predicting wavefunctions and electronic densities, which is significantly more accurate than non-equivariant models. For the first time, sufficient accuracy is reached to predict properties like energies and forces {\em directly} from the wavefunction and in {\em end-to-end manner}.
This makes it possible to learn wavefunctions that lead to modified properties, which is interesting from an inverse design perspective; or the development of novel machine-learned semi-empirical methods, for example by learning a correction to the wavefunction that mimics the effects of electron correlation. Such hybrid methods maintain the accuracy and generality of high level electronic structure calculations while drastically reducing their computational cost.\\
Beyond physics, other applications of this novel equivariant DL architecture to e.g.\ computer vision or graphics are conceivable --- whenever accurate invariant analyses of high dimensional point clouds are of importance.
In summary, this work provides the following contributions:
\begin{itemize}
\item We describe general SE(3)-equivariant operations and building blocks for constructing DL architectures for geometric point cloud data.
\item We propose PhiSNet, a neural network for predicting wavefunctions and electronic densities from equivariant atomic representations, ensuring physically correct transformation under rotations.
\item We apply PhiSNet to predict wavefunctions and electronic densities of a range of small to medium-sized molecules and show that our model reduces prediction errors of electronic structure properties by a factor of up to two orders of magnitude compared to the previous state-of-the-art.
\item We showcase a novel transfer-learning application, where a model trained on low accuracy wavefunctions is adapted to predict properties computed at a higher level of theory by learning a correction that implicitly captures the effects of many-body electron correlation.
\end{itemize}
\section{Related work}
\label{sec:related_work}
Only a small number of studies apply machine learning to the challenging problem of modeling the wavefunction directly \cite{carleo2017solving}. This is usually done by predicting Hamiltonian matrices, from which the wavefunction can be obtained by solving a generalized eigenvalue problem. The earliest such study we are aware of is by \citet{hegde2017machine}, who used kernel ridge regression to learn the Hamiltonian matrix for two simple case studies. Later, \citet{schutt2019unifying} proposed the SchNOrb neural network architecture, which constructs the Hamiltonian matrix of molecules in a block-wise manner from atom-pair features. Recently, \citet{li2021deep} presented a deep neural network architecture for predicting the Hamiltonian matrix of simple periodic crystals. However, none of these models form their predictions in a rotationally equivariant manner, i.e.\ they need to learn how to predict the Hamiltonian matrix for all possible orientations of the system of interest, which requires large amounts of training data. Even when data augmentation via random rotations~\citep{montavon2012learning} or special Hamiltonian representations~\citep{gastegger2020deep} are used to mitigate this issue, the final model is only approximately equivariant, i.e.\ properties derived from the wavefunction can change unphysically when the system is rotated or the frame of reference is changed. Here, we draw upon insights from a range of SE(3)-equivariant models~\citep{cohen2016group,marcos2017rotation,cohen2018spherical,kondor2018covariant,weiler20183d,thomas2018tensor,Grisafi2018,hy2018predicting,NEURIPS2019_b9cfe8b6,NEURIPS2019_ea9268cb,cohen2019gauge} to ensure that predictions exactly preserve the physically correct dependence with respect to the orientation of inputs (for a more detailed discussion see the supplement).
\section{Background}
\label{sec:background}
\begin{figure}
\centering
\includegraphics[width=\textwidth]{figures/overview_v2.pdf}
\caption{\footnotesize \textbf{A}: Illustration of an aspirine molecule and its highest occupied molecular orbital (HOMO) in three different orientations, showing how the wavefunction (left) and Hamiltonian matrix (right) change with respect to rotations. \textbf{B}: Overview of the PhiSNet architecture. The atomic representation network creates atom-wise equivariant features, which are used to produce self-interaction and pair-interaction features (Fig.~\ref{Sfig:nn_architecture}), from which the Hamiltonian matrix is constructed block-by-block (Fig.~\ref{Sfig:hamiltonian_composition}). \textbf{C}: Visualisation of electronic densities (squared wavefunction) of various molecules predicted with our approach. \textbf{D}: Illustration of a transfer learning application, where
a model pretrained on Hartree-Fock (HF) Hamiltonians is fine-tuned to match energies and forces derived from highly accurate coupled cluster (CC) calculations. The model achieves this by learning a correction to the Hamiltonian matrix, which mimics the effects of many-body electron correlation. The HOMO is shown to visualize subtle changes to the wavefunction.}
\label{fig:overview}
\end{figure}
The aim of most quantum chemistry methods is to solve the electronic Schrödinger equation
\begin{equation}
\hat{H}_\mathrm{el} \Psi_\mathrm{el} = E_\mathrm{el} \Psi_\mathrm{el},
\label{eq:schrodinger_equation}
\end{equation}
where $\hat{H}_\mathrm{el}$ is the Hamiltonian operator describing the interactions and motion of the electrons, $\Psi_\mathrm{el}$ is the electronic wavefunction and $E_\mathrm{el}$ is the ground state energy.
After $\Psi_\mathrm{el}$ is determined, all physical observables (beyond $E_\mathrm{el}$) can be derived by applying other operators (similar to $\hat{H}_\mathrm{el}$) to the wavefunction and reading out the corresponding eigenvalues~\citep{schechter2012operator}. In practice, Eq.~\ref{eq:schrodinger_equation} is solved by expressing $\Psi_\mathrm{el}$ as an antisymmetric product of molecular orbitals
\begin{equation}
\psi_i = \sum_j C_{ij} \phi_j\,,
\label{eq:molecular_orbitals}
\end{equation}
which are written as linear combinations of atom-centered basis functions $\phi$. This leads to the equation
\begin{equation}
\mathbf{H}\mathbf{C} = \bm{\epsilon}\mathbf{S}\mathbf{C}\,,
\label{eq:schrodinger_matrix_equation}
\end{equation}
where the Hamiltonian is written as a matrix $\mathbf{H}$ with entries $H_{ij} = \int \phi_i^*(\mathbf{r}) \hat{H}_{\mathrm{el}} \phi_j(\mathbf{r}) d\mathbf{r}$ ($\mathbf{r}$ denotes the electronic coordinates). The overlap matrix $\mathbf{S}$ with entries $S_{ij} = \int \phi_i^*(\mathbf{r})\phi_j(\mathbf{r}) d\mathbf{r}$ has to be introduced and a generalized eigenvalue problem must be solved, because the basis functions $\phi$ are typically not orthonormal. The eigenvectors $\mathbf{C}$ specify the wavefunction $\Psi_\mathrm{el}$ via the coefficients $C_{ij}$ of the molecular orbitals (Eq.~\ref{eq:molecular_orbitals}) and the eigenvalues $\bm{\epsilon}$ are the corresponding orbital energies. Since eigenvectors are only defined up to sign changes, predicting $\mathbf{H}$ (instead of $\mathbf{C}$) is preferable for machine learning applications. This is a challenging task, because the basis functions are typically products of a radial component and spherical harmonics, which introduces non-trivial dependencies of the matrix elements with respect to the orientation of the chemical system (see Fig.~\ref{fig:overview}A). Spherical harmonics $Y^{m}_{l}$ of degree $l=0,\dots,\infty$ and order $m=-l,\dots,l$ form a complete orthonormal basis for functions on the surface of a sphere and can be used to derive irreducible representations (irreps) of the 3D rotation group $\mathrm{SO}(3)$. In other words, they are rotationally equivariant, which means that when $\mathbf{r}$ is rotated, the values of $Y^{m}_{l}(\mathbf{r})$ change accordingly. Since $\Psi_\mathrm{el}$ is expressed with spherical harmonic basis functions, the entries of $\mathbf{H}$ transform predictably under rotations (a more detailed overview of quantum chemistry fundamentals, groups, equivariance, and spherical harmonics is given in Section~\ref{Ssec:detailed_background} of the supplement).
\section{Deep learning architecture for molecular wavefunctions}
Deep message-passing neural networks (MPNNs) \citep{gilmer2017neural} for quantum chemistry applications, such as DTNN~\citep{schutt2017quantum} or SchNet~\citep{schutt2017schnet}, model physical properties of chemical systems as a sum over atomic contributions predicted from features $\mathbf{x}_i \in \mathbb{R}^F$ for each atom~$i$. Starting from initial element-specific embeddings, the features are constructed by iteratively exchanging ``messages'' between neighboring atoms $i$ and $j$, which depend on the current $\mathbf{x}_i$ and $\mathbf{x}_j$ and their distance $r_{ij}$. Since geometric information enters only in the form of pairwise distances, the final atomic features are rotationally invariant by construction. This is desirable when they are used to predict a quantity that itself is rotationally invariant, for example the potential energy. To predict observables that change under rotation, e.g.\ electric moments or the electronic Hamiltonian, a natural extension is to instead construct rotationally equivariant features. To see how this can be achieved, it is useful to think of the $F$ entries of atomic feature vectors $\mathbf{x}_i\in \mathbb{R}^F$ as different ``channels'', where each channel carries scalar information about the chemical environment of atom~$i$. To construct rotationally equivariant features, each scalar channel can be replaced by values derived from the spherical harmonics up to a maximum degree $L$, i.e.\ there are now $F\times(L+1)^2$ entries (each spherical harmonic degree $l \in \{0,\dots,L\}$ contributes $2l+1$ values for all possible orders $m\in \{-l,\dots,l\}$). In the following, we describe
novel general-purpose operations for building SE(3)-equivariant MPNNs, which can also be used outside a chemical context to build feature representations for other point cloud data. We then apply these building blocks to extend the design of the PhysNet architecture~\citep{unke2019physnet} to produce equivariant atomic representations. Our proposed model, which we call PhiSNet, constructs the Hamiltonian matrix in a block-wise manner from the atomic features.
\paragraph{Notation} Whenever equivariant features are discussed, bold symbols (e.g.\ $\mathbf{x}$) refer to the collection of all $F\times(L+1)^2$ entries for all feature channels $F$ and spherical harmonics degrees $l\in\{0,\dots,L\}$, whereas a superscript $l$ in parentheses (e.g.\ $\mathbf{x}^{(l)}$) is used to refer only to the $F\times (2l+1)$ entries of degree $l$. Similarly, $\mathbf{Y}(\mathbf{r})$ refers to the collection of all $1\times (L+1)^2$ spherical harmonics with distinct combinations of $l$ and $m$, whereas $\mathbf{Y}^{(l)}(\mathbf{r})$ refers to the $1\times (2l+1)$ values for degree $l$. The notation $\mathbf{c}\circ\mathbf{x}$ denotes a Hadamard product between matrices, i.e.\ $\mathbf{c}\in \mathbb{R}^{F\times (L+1)^2}$ and $\mathbf{x}\in \mathbb{R}^{F\times (L+1)^2}$ are multiplied entry-wise. When there is no one-to-one correspondence between the entries in $\mathbf{c}$ and $\mathbf{x}$, e.g.\ when $\mathbf{c}\in \mathbb{R}^{F}$ and $\mathbf{x}\in \mathbb{R}^{F\times (L+1)^2}$, $\mathbf{c}\circ\mathbf{x}$ implies that $\mathbf{c}$ is ``broadcasted'' across the missing dimensions, i.e.\ each of the $(L+1)^2$ ``slices'' of $\mathbf{x}$ is multiplied entry-wise with $\mathbf{c}$ and the result $\mathbf{c}\circ\mathbf{x}$ has dimensions $F\times (L+1)^2$.
Double-struck digits denote an irreducible representation (irrep) with the corresponding number of dimensions ($2l+1$), for example, $\mathbb{1}$ refers to a (one-dimensional) irrep of degree $l=0$ and $\mathbb{3}$ to a (three-dimensional) irrep of degree $l=1$. When a collection of equivariant features $\mathbf{x}^{l} \in \mathbb{R}^{F_{\rm in}\times(2l+1)}$ is multiplied by a matrix $\mathbf{M} \in \mathbb{R}^{F_{\rm out}\times F_{\rm in}}$, the result is $\mathbf{M}\mathbf{x}^{(l)} \in \mathbb{R}^{F_{\rm out}\times(2l+1)}$, i.e.\ the ordinary rules for matrix multiplication apply.
\subsection{SE(3)-equivariant neural network building blocks}
\label{subsec:building_blocks}
\paragraph{Activation functions} may only be applied to scalar ($l=0$) features, or else the output loses its equivariant properties:
\begin{equation}
\boldsymbol{\sigma}(\mathbf{x})^{(l)} =
\begin{cases}
\sigma(\mathbf{x}^{(l)}) & l = 0 \\
\mathbf{x}^{(l)} & l > 0
\end{cases}\,.
\label{eq:activation_function1}
\end{equation}
Here, $\sigma$ can be any activation function and the notation $\sigma(\mathbf{x}^{(l)})$ means that $\sigma$ is applied to $\mathbf{x}^{(l)}$ entry-wise. In this work, a generalized SiLU~\citep{hendrycks2016gaussian,elfwing2018sigmoid} activation function (also known as Swish~\citep{ramachandran2017searching}) given by
\begin{equation}
\sigma(x) = \frac{\alpha x}{1+e^{-\beta x}}
\label{eq:activation_function2}
\end{equation}
is used, where $\alpha$ and $\beta$ are both learned and separate parameters are kept for all feature channels and instances of $\sigma$ \citep{unke2021spookynet} (see Section~\ref{Ssubsec:activation_function} in the supplement for additional details).
\paragraph{Linear layers} are applied to each degree $l$ according to
\begin{equation}
\mathrm{linear}_{F_{\rm in} \to F_{\rm out}}(\mathbf{x})^{(l)} =
\begin{cases}
\mathbf{W}_l\mathbf{x}^{(l)} + \mathbf{b} & l = 0 \\
\mathbf{W}_l\mathbf{x}^{(l)} & l > 0
\end{cases}\,,
\label{eq:linear_layer}
\end{equation}
where $\mathbf{W} \in \mathbb{R}^{F_{\rm out}\times F_{\rm in}}$ and $\mathbf{b} \in \mathbb{R}^{F_{\rm out}}$ are weights and biases, respectively. The subscript $l$ is used to distinguish the weights for different degrees $l$, i.e.\ separate linear transformations are applied to the features of each degree $l$. The bias term must be omitted for $l>0$ so that output features stay rotationally equivariant.
\paragraph{Tensor product contractions} are used to couple two equivariant feature representations $\mathbf{x}^{(l_1)}$ and $\mathbf{y}^{(l_2)}$ to form new features $\mathbf{z}^{(l_3)}$. The (reducible) tensor product $\mathbf{x}^{(l_1)}\otimes \mathbf{y}^{(l_2)}$ of two irreps has $(2l_1+1)(2l_2+1)$ dimensions and can be expanded into a direct sum of irreducible representations, e.g.\ $\mathbb{3}\otimes \mathbb{5} = \mathbb{3} \oplus \mathbb{5} \oplus \mathbb{7}$. In general, the value for order $m_3$ of the irrep of degree $l_3\in \{|l_1-l_2|,\dots ,l_1+l_2\}$ in the direct sum representation of the tensor product $\mathbf{x}^{(l_1)}\otimes \mathbf{y}^{(l_2)}$ is given by
\begin{equation}
\left(\mathbf{x}^{(l_1)}\otimes \mathbf{y}^{(l_2)}\right)^{l_3}_{m_3} = \sum_{m_1=-l_1}^{l_1} \sum_{m_2=-l_2}^{l_2} C^{l_3,l_2,l_1}_{m_3,m_2,m_1} x^{l_1}_{m_1} y^{l_2}_{m_2}\,,
\label{eq:tensor_product_contraction}
\end{equation}
where $C^{l_3,l_2,l_1}_{m_3,m_2,m_1}$ are Clebsch-Gordan coefficients (CGCs)~\citep{varshalovich1988quantum}. The short-hand notation $\mathbf{x}^{(l_1)}\underset{l_3}{\otimes} \mathbf{y}^{(l_2)}$ is used to refer to the irrep of degree $l_3$ in the direct sum representation of $\mathbf{x}^{(l_1)}\otimes \mathbf{y}^{(l_2)}$. In other words, the operation $\mathbf{x}^{(l_1)}\underset{l_3}{\otimes} \mathbf{y}^{(l_2)}$ performs the tensor product and contracts the result to a single irrep of degree $l_3$.
\paragraph{Tensor product expansions} are inverse to tensor product contractions. Instead of contracting two irreps into one, CGCs are used to expand a single irrep $\mathbf{x}^{(l_3)}$ into a $(2l_1 + 1)\times (2l_2 + 1)$ matrix that represents its contribution to the direct sum representation of the tensor product of two irreps of order $l_1$ and $l_2$, where $|l_2 - l_1| \leq l_3 \leq l_2 + l_1$:
\begin{equation}
\left(\overline{\otimes}\mathbf{x}^{(l_3)}\right)^{l_1, l_2}_{m_1, m_2} = \sum_{m_3=-l_3}^{l_3} \mathbf{C}^{l_1,l_2,l_3}_{m_l,m_2,m_3} x^{l_3}_{m_3}\,.
\label{eq:tensor_product_expansion}
\end{equation}
Mirroring the shorthand used for tensor product contractions, $\overset{l_1,l_2}{\overline{\otimes}}\mathbf{x}^{(l_3)}$ will be used to refer to the $(2l_1 + 1)\times (2l_2 + 1)$ matrix that is obtained from the tensor product expansion of $\mathbf{x}^{(l_3)}$.
\paragraph{Selfmix layers} are used to recombine (``mix'') the $F$ features of a single input $\mathbf{x}\in \mathbb{R}^{F\times (L_{\rm in}+1)^2}$ across different degrees and optionally allow changing the maximum degree from $L_{\rm in}$ to $L_{\rm out}$. The output features of degree $l_3$ are given by
\begin{equation}
\mathrm{selfmix}_{L_{\rm in} \to L_{\rm out}}(\mathbf{x})^{(l_3)} =
\begin{cases}
\mathbf{k}_{l_3}\circ\mathbf{x}^{(l_3)} + \sum_{l_1=0}^{L_{\rm in}}\sum_{l_2=l_1+1}^{L_{\rm in}} \mathbf{s}_{l_3,l_2,l_1}\circ\left(\mathbf{x}^{(l_1)}\underset{l_3}{\otimes}\mathbf{x}^{(l_2)}\right) & l_3 \leq L_{\rm in}\\
\sum_{l_1=0}^{L_{\rm in}}\sum_{l_2=l_1+1}^{L_{\rm in}} \mathbf{s}_{l_3,l_2,l_1}\circ\left(\mathbf{x}^{(l_1)}\underset{l_3}{\otimes}\mathbf{x}^{(l_2)}\right) & l_3 > L_{\rm in}
\end{cases}\,.
\label{eq:selfmix_layer}
\end{equation}
Here, $\mathbf{k},\mathbf{s} \in \mathbb{R}^{F}$ are learnable coefficients and the subscripts are used to distinguish independent parameters $\mathbf{k},\mathbf{s}$ for different degrees: In total, a selfmix layer has $L_{\rm out}+1$ different $\mathbf{k}_{l_3}$ (one for each possible value of $l_3\in\{ 0,\dots,L_{\rm out}\}$) and $(L_{\rm out}+1)\frac{L_{\rm in} (L_{\rm in}+1)}{2}$ different $\mathbf{s}_{l_3,l_2,l_1}$ (one for each valid combination of $l_3,l_2,l_1$).
\paragraph{Spherical linear layers} Spherical linear layers are a combination of linear (Eq.~\ref{eq:linear_layer}) and selfmix (Eq.~\ref{eq:selfmix_layer}) layers given by
\begin{equation}
\mathrm{sphlinear}_{L_{\rm in} \to L_{\rm out},F_{\rm in} \to F_{\rm out}}(\mathbf{x}) =
\mathrm{linear}_{F_{\rm in} \to F_{\rm out}}\left(\mathrm{selfmix_{L_{\rm in} \to L_{\rm out}}(\mathbf{x})}\right)\,.
\label{eq:spherical_linear_layer}
\end{equation}
Chaining both operations allows arbitrary combinations across feature channels and degrees while still preserving rotational equivariance.
\paragraph{Residual blocks} are modules consisting of two sequential spherical linear layers (see Eq.~\ref{eq:spherical_linear_layer}) and activation functions (see Eqs.~\ref{eq:activation_function1}~and~\ref{eq:activation_function2}) inspired by the pre-activation residual block described in \citep{he2016identity}:
\begin{equation}
\mathrm{residual}(\mathbf{x}) = \mathbf{x} + \mathrm{sphlinear}_2(\boldsymbol{\sigma}_2(\mathrm{sphlinear}_1(\boldsymbol{\sigma}_1(\mathbf{x}))))\,.
\label{eq:residual_block}
\end{equation}
Here, $F_{\rm in}=F_{\rm out}$ and $L_{\rm in}=L_{\rm out}$ for both spherical linear layers.
\paragraph{Pairmix layers} are used to combine a pair of features $\mathbf{x}\in \mathbb{R}^{F\times (L_{x}+1)^2}$ and $\mathbf{y}\in \mathbb{R}^{F\times (L_{y}+1)^2}$ with a scalar $r$ (e.g.\ their Euclidean distance) to generate new features of degree $L_{\rm out}$:
\begin{equation}
\mathrm{pairmix}_{L_{x},L_{y}\to L_{\rm out} } (\mathbf{x}, \mathbf{y}, r)^{(l_3)} =
\sum_{l_1=0}^{L_{x}}\sum_{l_2=0}^{L_{y}} \left(\mathbf{W}_{l_3,l_2,l_1}\mathbf{g}(r)\right)\circ\left(\mathbf{x}^{(l_1)}\underset{l_3}{\otimes}\mathbf{y}^{(l_2)}\right)\,.
\label{eq:pairmix_layer}
\end{equation}
Here, $\mathbf{g}(r) \in \mathbb{R}^{K}$ is the vector $[g_0(r)\ g_1(r)\ \dots\ g_{K-1}(r)]^{\top}$ and $g_k(r)$ are radial basis functions. In this work, exponential Bernstein polynomials \citep{unke2021spookynet} are used (see Eq.~\ref{Seq:bernstein_basis_function}).
The weight matrices $\mathbf{W} \in \mathbb{R}^{F\times K}$ allow to learn radial functions as linear combinations of the basis functions $g_k(r)$ and subscripts are used to distinguish independent weights for different combinations of $l_1,l_2,l_3$ (in total, there are $(L_x+1)(L_y+1)(L_{\rm out}+1)$ possible combinations).
\paragraph{Interaction blocks} use message-passing to model interactions between the features $\mathbf{c} \in \mathbb{R}^{F\times(L+1)^2}$ of a central point $i$ with features $\mathbf{n} \in \mathbb{R}^{F\times(L+1)^2}$ of neighboring points $j$ within a local environment:
\begin{equation}
\begin{aligned}
\mathbf{a}(\mathbf{x},\mathbf{r})^{(l)} &= \mathbf{x}^0\circ\left(\mathbf{W}_{l}\mathbf{g}(\lVert \mathbf{r}\rVert)\right)\circ\mathrm{sphlinear}_{L\to L,1 \to F}(\mathbf{Y}(\mathbf{r}))^{(l)}\,,\\
\mathbf{b}(\mathbf{x},\mathbf{r})^{(l)} &= \mathrm{pairmix}_{L,L\to L}(\mathbf{x},\mathrm{sphlinear}_{L\to L,1 \to F}\left(\mathbf{Y}(\mathbf{r})\right),\lVert \mathbf{r}\rVert)^{(l)}\,,\\
\mathrm{interaction}(\mathbf{c}, \mathbf{n}, \mathbf{r})^{(l)}_i &= \mathbf{c}_i^{(l)} + \sum_{j\neq i}\left(\mathbf{a}(\mathbf{n}_j,\mathbf{r}_{ij})^{(l)} + \mathbf{b}(\mathbf{n}_j,\mathbf{r}_{ij})^{(l)}\right)\,.
\end{aligned}
\label{eq:interaction_block}
\end{equation}
Here $\mathbf{r}_{ij}$ is the distance vector $\mathbf{r}_{ij} = \mathbf{r}_j - \mathbf{r}_i$ between the positions $\mathbf{r}_i, \mathbf{r}_j$ of $i$~and~$j$. The radial basis function expansion $\mathbf{g}$ is the same as in $\mathrm{pairmix}$ layers and $\mathbf{W} \in \mathbb{R}^{F\times K}$ are independent weight matrices for each order $l$. Since geometric information enters Eq.~\ref{eq:interaction_block} via relative distance vectors $\mathbf{r}_{ij}$ expanded in a spherical harmonics basis, interactions blocks are equivariant with respect to the SE(3) group of roto-translations.
\subsection{PhiSNet architecture}
\label{subsec:architecture_overview}
PhiSNet takes as inputs nuclear charges $Z$ and positions $\mathbf{r}$ of $N$ atoms, which are used to construct equivariant feature representations encoding information about the chemical environment of each atom. These features are then further transformed and used to predict the entries of the Hamiltonian matrix, see below. An overview over the complete architecture is shown in Fig.~\ref{fig:overview}B and more detailed diagrams of individual building blocks are given in Fig.~\ref{Sfig:nn_architecture}.
\paragraph{Atomic feature representations}
An embedding layer produces initial atomic feature representations $\mathbf{x}$ from the nuclear charges $Z$ according to
\begin{equation}
\mathrm{embedding}(Z)^{(l)} =
\begin{cases}
\mathbf{W}\mathbf{d}_Z + \mathbf{b}_Z & l = 0 \\
\mathbf{0} & l > 0
\end{cases}\,,
\label{eq:embedding_layer}
\end{equation}
where $\mathbf{W} \in \mathbb{R}^{F\times 4}$ is a weight matrix and $\mathbf{b}_Z$ element-specific biases with learnable parameters. Here, $\mathbf{d}_Z \in \mathbb{R}^4$ are fixed vectors for each element that contain information about their nuclear charge and ground state electron configuration, similar to the embeddings described in \citep{unke2021spookynet} (see Section~\ref{Ssubsec:embedding} in the supplement for details). The features are then refined by five sequential modules, each consisting of identical building blocks with independent parameters:
\begin{equation}
\begin{aligned}
\mathbf{t} &= \mathrm{residual}(\mathbf{x})\,, \\
\mathbf{i} &= \mathrm{sphlinear}_{L \to L,F \to F}\left(\boldsymbol{\sigma}\left(\mathrm{residual}( \mathbf{t})\right)\right)\,, \\
\mathbf{j} &= \mathrm{sphlinear}_{L \to L,F \to F}\left(\boldsymbol{\sigma}\left(\mathrm{residual}( \mathbf{t})\right)\right)\,, \\
\mathbf{v} &= \mathrm{sphlinear}_{L \to L,F \to F}\left(\boldsymbol{\sigma}\left(\mathrm{residual}(\mathrm{interaction}(\mathbf{i}, \mathbf{j}, \mathbf{r}))\right)\right)\,, \\
\tilde{\mathbf{x}} &= \mathrm{residual}\left(\mathbf{t} + \mathbf{v}\right)\,, \\
\tilde{\mathbf{y}} &= \mathrm{residual}\left(\tilde{\mathbf{x}}\right)\,.
\end{aligned}
\label{eq:neural_network_module}
\end{equation}
Each module produces two different outputs $\mathbf{\tilde{x}}$ and $\mathbf{\tilde{y}}$. The first output $\mathbf{\tilde{x}}$ serves as input to the next module in the chain, whereas the second output $\mathbf{\tilde{y}}$ is summed with the outputs of other modules to form the final atomic feature representations $\mathbf{f}=\sum\mathbf{\tilde{y}}$.
\paragraph{Hamiltonian matrix prediction}
The Hamiltonian matrix is constructed block-by-block, with each block corresponding to the interaction between two atoms $i$ and $j$. Diagonal and off-diagonal blocks are treated separately, i.e.\ different atomic pair features are constructed to predict them. Since these transformations also involve interactions with neighboring atoms (similar to interaction blocks), separate representations for central $\mathbf{c}$ and neighboring atoms $\mathbf{n}$ are created from the atomic features $\mathbf{f}$:
\begin{equation}
\begin{aligned}
\mathbf{c} &= \mathrm{residual}(\mathbf{f})\,, \\
\mathbf{n} &= \mathrm{residual}(\mathbf{f})\,. \\
\end{aligned}
\label{eq:center_neighbor_features}
\end{equation}
Self-interaction features $\mathbf{f}_{ii}$ (for diagonal blocks) are constructed according to
\begin{equation}
\mathbf{f}_{ii} = \mathrm{residual}\left(\mathbf{c}_i^{(l)} + \sum_{j\neq i}\left(\mathbf{n}_j^{(l)} \circ \mathbf{W}_l\mathbf{g}(\|\mathbf{r}_{ij}\|)\right)\right)\,,
\label{eq:self_interaction_feats}
\end{equation}
where $\mathbf{r}_{ij}$ is the distance vector between the positions of atoms~$i$~and~$j$, and the radial basis function expansion $\mathbf{g}$ is the same as in $\mathrm{pairmix}$ layers. The matrices $\mathbf{W} \in \mathbb{R}^{F\times K}$ are separate trainable weight matrices for each order $l$.
Similarly, pair-interaction features $\mathbf{f}_{ij}$ (for off-diagonal blocks) are obtained by combining the central representations of atoms $i$ and $j$ and interacting them with the neighbors of atom~$i$ according to
\begin{equation}
\mathbf{f}_{ij} = \mathrm{residual}\left(\mathrm{pairmix}(\mathbf{c}_i, \mathbf{c}_j, \|\mathbf{r}_{ij}\|)^{(l)} + \sum_{k\notin \{i,j\}}\left(\mathbf{n}_k^{(l)} \circ \mathbf{W}_l\mathbf{g}(\|\mathbf{r}_{ik}\|)\right)\right)\,.
\label{eq:pair_interaction_feats}
\end{equation}
All blocks $\mathbf{H}_{ii}$ and $\mathbf{H}_{ij}$ of the Hamiltonian matrix, each representing the interaction between two atoms, are themselves composed of smaller blocks corresponding to the interaction between atomic orbitals. Since atomic orbitals are expressed in a spherical harmonics basis, their interactions transform non-trivially (put predictably) under rotations. The correct equivariant behavior of a matrix block $\mathbf{M}^{l_1, l_2}\in \mathbb{R}^{(2l_1 + 1)\times (2l_2 + 1)}$ corresponding to the interaction between orbitals of order $l_1$ and $l_2$ can be constructed as a sum over matrices obtained from tensor product expansions (Eq.~\ref{eq:tensor_product_expansion}) of irreps $\mathbf{a}$ of all valid orders $l_3 \in \{|l_2 - l_1|, \dots, \leq l_2 + l_1\}$:
\begin{equation}
\begin{aligned}
\mathbf{M}^{l_1, l_2} &= \sum_{l_3 = |l_2 - l_1|}^{l_2 + l_1}\overset{l_1,l_2}{\overline{\otimes}}\mathbf{a}^{(l_3)}\,. \\
\end{aligned}
\label{eq:matrix_reconstruction}
\end{equation}
Two sets of indices $I^{\mathrm{self}}$ and $I^{\mathrm{pair}}$ count and keep track of the irreps necessary to construct all required matrices $\mathbf{M}^{l_1, l_2}$. For diagonal blocks $\mathbf{H}_{ii}$, the irreps of a given degree $l$ for the interaction of orbitals $n$ and $m$ of atoms with nuclear charge $Z$ are collected from specific channels of the self-interaction features $\mathbf{f}_{ii}$ via a unique index $I^{\mathrm{self}}(Z, n, m, L)$. Similarly, for off-diagonal blocks $\mathbf{H}_{ij}$, a unique index $I^{\mathrm{pair}}(Z_i, Z_j, n_i, n_j, L)$ selects irreps corresponding to orbitals $n_i$ and $n_j$ of atom pairs with nuclear charges $Z_i$ and $Z_j$ from the pair-interaction features $\mathbf{f}_{ij}$. After all blocks have been constructed, the complete matrix $\tilde{\mathbf{H}}$ is obtained by placing individual blocks at the appropriate positions (based on which atoms and orbitals interact). Finally, the symmetric Hamiltonian matrix is constructed as $\mathbf{H} = \tilde{\mathbf{H}} + \tilde{\mathbf{H}}^{T}$. This symmetrization guarantees that both pair-features $\mathbf{f}_{ij}$ and $\mathbf{f}_{ji}$ contribute equally to the corresponding off-diagonal blocks and makes sure that sub-blocks of the Hamiltonian swap positions in the correct way when equivalent atoms are permuted. In cases where multiple Hamiltonian-like matrices need to be predicted, all parameters up to the final residual blocks in Eqs.~\ref{eq:self_interaction_feats}~and~\ref{eq:pair_interaction_feats} are shared. An exception are overlap matrices, for which simpler self- and pair-interaction features derived directly from the embeddings are sufficient (see Section~\ref{Ssubsec:overlap_matrix} in the supplement for details). The complete block-wise construction process of the Hamiltonian matrix from irreps is illustrated in Fig.~\ref{Sfig:hamiltonian_composition} for a water molecule with minimal basis set.
\section{Results and discussion}
\label{sec:results}
To assess the ability of PhiSNet to predict molecular wavefunctions and electronic densities (see Fig.~\ref{fig:overview}C), we train it on Kohn-Sham and overlap matrices for various non-equilibrium configurations of water, ethanol, malondialdehyde, uracil, and aspirin computed at the density functional theory (DFT) level with PBE/def2-SVP (the Kohn-Sham matrix takes the role of the Hamiltonian in DFT methods). Datasets for all molecules are taken from \citep{schutt2019unifying}, with the exception of aspirin, for which geometries were sampled from the MD17 dataset~\citep{chmiela2018towards} (more details on the datasets, training procedure, and hyperparameter settings can be found in Sections~\ref{Ssec:datasets}~and~\ref{Ssec:training_procedure} of the supplement).
\begin{table}
\label{tab:comparison_with_schnorb}
\caption{Prediction errors of PhiSNet for various molecules compared to SchNOrb \citep{schutt2019unifying}. In addition to Kohn-Sham $\mathbf{K}$ and overlap $\mathbf{S}$ matrices, we also report errors for energies $\epsilon$ and the cosine similarity between predicted and reference wavefunction $\psi$ for all occupied orbitals. Best results in bold.}
\begin{tabularx}{\textwidth}{c *{5}{>{\centering\arraybackslash}X}}
\toprule
\multirow{2}{*}{Data set} & & $\mathbf{K}$ & $\mathbf{S}$ & $\epsilon$ & $\psi$ \\
& & [$10^{-6}~\mathrm{E}_{\rm h}$] & [$10^{-6}$] & [$10^{-6}~\mathrm{E}_{\rm h}$] & \\
\midrule
\multirow{2}{*}{Water} & SchNOrb & 165.4 & 79.1 & 279.3 & \bf 1.00 \\
& PhiSNet & \bf 17.59 & \bf 1.56 & \bf 85.53 & \bf 1.00 \\
\midrule
\multirow{2}{*}{Ethanol} & SchNOrb & 187.4 & 67.8 & 334.4 & \bf 1.00 \\
& PhiSNet & \bf 12.15 & \bf 0.626 & \bf 62.75 & \bf 1.00 \\
\midrule
\multirow{2}{*}{Malondialdehyde} & SchNOrb & 191.1 & 67.3 & 400.6 & 0.99 \\
& PhiSNet & \bf 12.32 & \bf 0.567 & \bf 73.50 & \bf 1.00 \\
\midrule
\multirow{2}{*}{Uracil} & SchNOrb & 227.8 & 82.4 & 1760 & 0.90 \\
& PhiSNet & \bf 10.73 & \bf 0.533 & \bf 84.03 & \bf 1.00 \\
\midrule
\multirow{2}{*}{Aspirin} & SchNOrb & 506.0 & 110 & 48689 & 0.57 \\
& PhiSNet & \bf 12.84 & \bf 0.406 & \bf 176.6 & \bf 0.98 \\
\bottomrule
\end{tabularx}
\end{table}
The results are summarized in Tab.~\ref{tab:comparison_with_schnorb} and compared to the current state-of-the-art given by SchNOrb~\citep{schutt2019unifying}. PhiSNet achieves accuracy improvements up to two orders of magnitude, with the biggest differences arising in larger and more complex molecules like uracil and aspirin. Note that the training process for SchNOrb requires data augmentation via random rotations to approximate the equivariance relation between wavefunction and molecular orientation, while PhiSNet preserves exact equivariance. This not only allows for faster convergence, but also leads to much smaller model sizes, with our model requiring approximately one fifth of the parameters of SchNOrb while providing significantly more accurate results.
The improved prediction accuracy provided by PhiSNet makes it possible to accurately derive properties such as energies and forces directly from the wavefunction in an end-to-end manner, enabling a number of interesting and novel machine learning applications for the molecular sciences. As an example, we showcase a transfer-learning application, where a model trained on low accuracy Hartree-Fock (HF) electronic structure calculations is fine-tuned to learn a correction to the wavefunction, such that energies and forces match those obtained via high-level coupled cluster with singles, doubles, and perturbative triple excitations (CCSD(T)) calculations. The CCSD(T) method models the effects of electronic many-body interactions, which are neglected in HF theory, and is often considered to be the ``gold standard'' of quantum chemistry \citep{unke2020machine}. However, its accuracy comes at a significantly increased computational complexity, going from $\mathcal{O}(N^3)$ for HF to $\mathcal{O}(N^7)$ for CCSD(T) (here, $N$ is the number of basis functions). Thus, a machine-learned correction to HF theory, which mimics the effects of electron correlation in a computationally efficient manner, is a possible way towards novel hybrid methods that rival the accuracy of high level electronic structure calculations and combine the generality and robustness of $\textit{ab initio}$ methods with the efficiency of machine learning.
After pretraining PhiSNet on HF/cc-pVDZ data for Fock matrices $\mathbf{F}$, core Hamiltonians $\mathbf{H}^{\rm core}$, and overlap matrices $\mathbf{S}$, we fine-tune it on forces computed at the CCSD(T)/cc-pVTZ level, but still keep loss terms for $\mathbf{H}^{\rm core}$ and $\mathbf{S}$ computed with HF/cc-pVDZ (see Section~\ref{Ssubsec:quantum_chemistry} in the supplement for a brief overview of HF theory, where we explain the relevance of $\mathbf{F}$, $\mathbf{H}^{\rm core}$, and $\mathbf{S}$, and how energies and forces are derived from them). This way, the model learns to adapt only the Fock matrix $\mathbf{F}$, which embodies the electron-electron interactions in the HF formalism. Interestingly, very subtle changes to $\mathbf{F}$ seem to be sufficient to approximate the effects of electron correlation, resulting in an ``effective CCSD(T) wavefunction'' that, at first glance, appears to be almost identical to its original HF-level counterpart (see Fig.~\ref{fig:overview}D). Nonetheless, the modified wavefunction reduces the mean absolute errors (MAEs) between energies and forces predicted with PhiSNet to just 79~$\mu$E$_\mathrm{h}$ and 0.85~mE$_\mathrm{h}$a$_0^{-1}$, respectively, compared to the CCSD(T) reference. In contrast, the original HF-level wavefunction leads to MAEs of 4266~$\mu$E$_\mathrm{h}$ and 15~mE$_\mathrm{h}$a$_0^{-1}$ for energies and forces, respectively, i.e.\ prediction errors are reduced by over one order of magnitude with no additional computational overhead. More details on the transfer learning application can be found in Section~\ref{Ssubsec:transfer_learning} of the supplement.
While the results are highly promising, the current approach also has limitations. Due to the fact that all pairwise combinations of atoms have to be considered for constructing the pair-interaction features $\mathbf{f}_{ij}$, the Hamiltonian matrix prediction scales quadratically with the number of atoms. Further, to derive the coefficient matrix $\mathbf{C}$ defining the wavefunction, a generalized eigenvalue problem has to be solved (see Eq.~\ref{eq:schrodinger_matrix_equation}), which scales cubically with the matrix size (the number of basis functions). For these reasons, PhiSNet does not scale well to systems with a very large number of atoms. However, possible extensions of our method could exploit the fact that orbital overlaps between distant atoms are very small, so the entries of corresponding matrix blocks are approximately zero \citep{goedecker2003linear}. Then, only pair-interaction features for non-zero blocks need to be computed and the solution of Eq.~\ref{eq:schrodinger_matrix_equation} can exploit sparsity.
\section{Conclusion}
\label{sec:conclusions}
For learning problems with known invariances or equivariances, as is common in physics applications, it is useful to include such properties directly into the model architecture. Generally, this increases model performance and decreases the required amount of training data. While invariance and equivariance properties could also be (approximately) learned, this typically requires much more reference data and/or data augmentation. In contrast, by ``hard coding'' domain knowledge, the learning is constrained to a meaningful submanifold, e.g.\ reflecting rotational equivariance \citep{marcos2017rotation}, energy conservation, physical laws or symmetries (e.g.~\citep{chmiela2017machine,chmiela2018towards,unke2019physnet,unke2021spookynet}), group equivariance (e.g.~\citep{cohen2016group}), graph properties (e.g.~\citep{kondor2018covariant,NEURIPS2019_ea9268cb}) or alike. Thus, known properties do not need to be learned explicitly, because the submanifold where learning takes place already embodies them.
Our present contribution follows this design principle, specifically, we describe a series of general SE(3)-equivariant operations and building blocks for deep learning architectures operating on geometric point cloud data, which we used here to construct PhiSNet, a novel neural network architecture capable of accurately predicting wavefunctions and electronic densities. Unlike previous models, which need to approximately learn how the wavefunction transforms under molecular rotations and rely on data augmentation, the SE(3)-equivariant building blocks of our network allow to {\em exactly} capture the correct transformation without needing to learn it explicitly. By applying PhiSNet on a range of small to medium-sized molecules, we demonstrated that our model achieves accuracy improvements of up to
{\em two orders of magnitude} compared to the previous state-of-the-art, while at the same time requiring significantly less parameters.
For the first time, sufficient accuracy is reached to derive quantum mechanical observations directly from the predicted wavefunction in an end-to-end manner, which also allows to adapt the predicted wavefunction such that it leads to desired physical properties. To showcase such an application, we fine-tuned a model trained on low accuracy wavefunctions to predict properties computed at a much higher level of theory, thereby learning a correction that implicitly captures the effects of many-body electron correlation. This paves the way towards the development of novel semi-empirical methods that are capable of providing highly accurate quantum chemical calculations at a drastically reduced computational cost.
Although we focus on quantum chemistry applications in this contribution, we would like to reiterate that the presented SE(3)-equivariant operations
are general and can be used to construct other deep learning architectures for geometric point cloud data beyond physics, e.g.~\citep{cohen2016group,marcos2017rotation,kondor2018covariant,NEURIPS2019_b9cfe8b6,NEURIPS2019_ea9268cb}.
\section{Detailed Background}
\label{sec:detailed_background}
\subsection{Quantum chemistry}
\label{subsec:quantum_chemistry}
At the center of quantum chemistry methods lies the electronic Schrödinger equation
\begin{equation}
\hat{H}_\mathrm{el} \Psi_\mathrm{el} = E_\mathrm{el} \Psi_\mathrm{el}\,,
\label{eq:schrodinger_equation}
\end{equation}
which describes the physical laws underlying the interactions between nuclei and electrons. Here, $\hat{H}_\mathrm{el}$ is the electronic Hamiltonian operator which describes effects due to the kinetic energy of the electrons $\hat{T}_\mathrm{e}$, the interactions between electrons and nuclei $\hat{V}_\mathrm{ne}$, as well as the inter-electronic interactions $\hat{V}_\mathrm{ee}$. The wavefunction $\Psi_\mathrm{el}$, an eigenfunction of $\hat{H}_\mathrm{el}$, captures the spatial distribution of electrons and the corresponding eigenvalue $E_\mathrm{el}$ represents the electronic energy of the system.
Before the eigenvalue problem can be solved, one has to first find a suitable functional expression for $\Psi_\mathrm{el}$.
A typical approach is to express the wavefunction as a Slater determinant $\Psi_\mathrm{el} = | \psi_1 \ldots \psi_n \rangle$, an anti-symmetric product of molecular orbitals $\psi_i$, which are constructed as linear combinations of atom-centered basis functions $\psi_i = \sum_j C_{ij} \phi_j$.
These atomic orbitals $\phi_j$ are typically taken to be products of radial functions $R_l$ and spherical harmonics $Y^m_l$
\begin{equation}
\phi_i(\mathbf{r}) = R_l(|\mathbf{r}|) Y_{l}^m(\mathbf{r}),
\label{eq:basis}
\end{equation}
where $\mathbf{r}$ denotes the electronic coordinates. Using this ansatz for the wavefunction leads to
\begin{equation}
\mathbf{H}\mathbf{C} = \bm{\epsilon}\mathbf{S}\mathbf{C}\,,
\label{eq:schrodinger_matrix_equation}
\end{equation}
where the Hamiltonian is written as a matrix $\mathbf{H}$ with entries $H_{ij} = \int \phi_i^*(\mathbf{r}) \hat{H}_{\mathrm{el}} \phi_j(\mathbf{r}) d\mathbf{r}$. The overlap matrix $\mathbf{S}$ with entries $S_{ij} = \int \phi_i^*(\mathbf{r})\phi_j(\mathbf{r}) d\mathbf{r}$ has to be introduced and a generalized eigenvalue problem must be solved, because the basis functions $\phi$ are typically not orthonormal. The eigenvectors $\mathbf{C}$ specify the wavefunction $\Psi_\mathrm{el}$ via the coefficients $C_{ij}$ of the molecular orbitals $\psi_i$ and the eigenvalues $\bm{\epsilon}$ are the corresponding orbital energies. Unfortunately, the entries of $\mathbf{H}$ depend on $\mathbf{C}$, because the many-body inter-electronic interactions $\hat{V}_\mathrm{ee}$ depend on the positions of all electrons. In other words, $\mathbf{H}$ cannot be determined without knowing $\mathbf{C}$, which in turn cannot be determined without knowing $\mathbf{H}$. To still be able to solve Eq.~\ref{eq:schrodinger_matrix_equation}, approximations have to be introduced.
In the Hartree-Fock formalism, the Hamiltonian is replaced by the Fock matrix $\mathbf{F} = \mathbf{H}^{\rm core}+\mathbf{G}$, which consists of a one-electron core Hamiltonian $\mathbf{H}^{\rm core}$ (describing $\hat{\mathrm{T}}_{e}$ and $\hat{\mathrm{V}}_{ne}$) and a two-electron part $\mathbf{G}$ (replacing $\hat{\mathrm{V}}_{ee}$).
Then, starting from an initial guess for $\mathbf{C}$, the term $\hat{V}_\mathrm{ee}$ is approximated by letting each electron interact with the mean field caused by all other electrons. The resulting Fock matrix $\mathbf{F}$ is used to solve Eq.~\ref{eq:schrodinger_matrix_equation} (replacing $\mathbf{H}$), leading to updated coefficients $\mathbf{C}$. The two-electron part $\mathbf{G}$ of the Fock matrix is updated using the newly determined coefficients and the procedure is repeated until a self-consistent solution is found. Once a converged solution is found, the total ground state energy $E$ of the chemical system is obtained as
\begin{equation}
E = \sum_{i \in \phi^\mathrm{occ}} \left( \epsilon^\mathrm{core}_i + \epsilon_i \right) + \frac{1}{2}\sum_{I,J}\frac{Z_I Z_J}{\lVert\mathbf{R}_{IJ}\rVert}.
\label{eq:ground_state_en}
\end{equation}
The first sum runs over all occupied (lowest-energy) orbitals, where $\epsilon_i$ are the entries of $\boldsymbol{\epsilon}$ (see Eq.~\ref{eq:schrodinger_matrix_equation}) and $\epsilon^\mathrm{core}_i = \mathrm{diag}(\mathbf{C}^*\mathbf{H}^{\rm core}\mathbf{C})$.
The second term accounts for the classical repulsion between nuclei, where $Z_I, Z_J$ are the nuclear charges and $\lVert\mathbf{R}_{IJ}\rVert$ is the distance between two nuclei.
The forces acting on nuclei can be computed by differentiating the energy in Eq.~\ref{eq:ground_state_en} with respect to the nuclear coordinates, i.e.\ the force acting on nucleus $I$ is given by $-\frac{\partial E}{\partial \mathbf{R}_I}$.
The computational cost of the HF method scales $\mathcal{O}(N^3)$ with the number of basis functions $N$ and is dominated by the iterative procedure and the need to re-evaluate the matrix $\mathbf{F}$ (more precisely, the two-electron part $\mathbf{G}$) whenever the coefficients $\mathbf{C}$ change, which is costly since it involves two-electron integrals. The biggest downside of the HF solution is its low accuracy due to the neglect of electron correlation.
To overcome this limitation, so-called post-HF methods like coupled cluster theory have been developed, using the HF wavefunction as a starting point. However, the improved accuracy of such approaches comes at a significantly higher computational cost (for example $\mathcal{O}(N^7)$), making them prohibitively expensive for large chemical systems.
An efficient alternative to HF and post-HF methods is density functional theory (DFT), where the wavefunction is replaced by the electron density. In this framework, electron correlation can in theory be treated exactly via the so-called exchange-correlation functional.
While DFT scales $\mathcal{O}(N^3)$, the exact form of this functional is unknown and must be approximated with empirical functions, limiting the accuracy of DFT.
Conveniently, DFT in its most frequently used formulation (Kohn--Sham DFT) can be cast in a similar matrix form as Eq.~\ref{eq:schrodinger_matrix_equation}, where the Fock matrix is replaced by the Kohn--Sham matrix $\mathbf{K}$.
\subsection{Group representations and equivariance}
\label{sec:equivariance}
A representation $D$ of a group $G$ is a function from $G$ to square matrices such that for all $g,h \in G$
\begin{equation}
\label{eq:group_representation}
D(g)D(h) =D(gh).
\end{equation}
A function $f:\mathcal{X} \mapsto \mathcal{Y}$, where $\mathcal{X}$ and $\mathcal{Y}$ are vector spaces, is called equivariant with respect to a group $G$ and representations $D^\mathcal{X}$ and $D^\mathcal{Y}$ if for all $g \in G, \mathbf{x}\in\mathcal{X}$, and $\mathbf{y}\in\mathcal{Y}$:
\begin{equation}\label{eq:equivariance}
f(D^\mathcal{X}(g)\mathbf{x}) = D^\mathcal{Y}(g)f(\mathbf{x}).
\end{equation}
When $D^\mathcal{Y}(g)$ is the identity function, the function $f$ is said to be invariant with respect to $G$. Since the composition of two equivariant functions $f_1$ and $f_2$ is also equivariant, the equivariance of a deep neural network can be demonstrated by showing that each individual layer of the network consists of equivariant functions.
In the case of the group of 3D rotations, known as $\mathrm{SO}(3)$, any representation $g\in \mathrm{SO}(3)$ can be decomposed as a direct sum of irreducible representations of dimension $2l + 1$, where we call $l$ the degree of the representation. The irreducible linear operators of $\mathrm{SO}(3)$ are known as Wigner-D matrices, with a Wigner-D matrix of degree $l$ being denoted as $\mathbf{D}^{(l)} \in \mathbb{R}^{(2l+1)\times(2l+1)}$.
\subsection{Spherical harmonics}
\label{subsec:spherical_harmonics}
Spherical harmonics $Y^{m}_{l}$ of degree $l=0,\dots,\infty$ and order $m=-l,\dots,l$ form a complete orthonormal basis for functions on the surface of a sphere and are the irreducible representations (irreps) of the 3D rotation group $\mathrm{SO}(3)$. Let $\mathcal{R}(g) \in \mathbb{R}^{3\times 3}$ represent the 3D rotation matrix corresponding to some group element $g \in \mathrm{SO}(3)$ and $\mathbf{D}^{(l)}(g)$ denote the Wigner-D matrix of degree $l$ representing $g$, then for all $g \in \mathrm{SO}(3)$, $\mathbf{r} \in \mathbb{R}^3$:
\begin{equation}
Y_{l}^{m}(\mathcal{R}(g)\mathbf{r}) = \sum\limits_{m'}\mathbf{D}^{(l)}_{mm'}(g)Y_{l}^{m'}(\mathbf{r}).
\end{equation}
In our implementation we use real-valued spherical harmonics, which for a given degree $l\ge0$ and order $-l\le m \le l$ are defined as
\begin{equation}
\begin{aligned}
Y_l^m(\mathbf{r}) &= \sqrt{\frac{2l+1}{2\pi}}\Pi_l^{\lvert m\rvert}(z)\begin{cases}
\displaystyle
\sum_{p=0}^{\lvert m\rvert}\binom{\lvert m\rvert}{p}x^{p} y^{\lvert m\rvert-p} \sin\left((\lvert m\rvert-p)\frac{\pi}{2}\right)
& m < 0 \\
\displaystyle
\frac{1}{\sqrt{2}}
& m = 0 \\
\displaystyle
\sum_{p=0}^{m}\binom{m}{p}x^{p} y^{m-p} \cos\left((m-p)\frac{\pi}{2}\right)
& m > 0 \\
\end{cases}\,,\\
\Pi_l^m(z) &= \sqrt{\frac{(l-m)!}{(l+m)!}}\sum_{k=0}^{\lfloor(l-m)/2\rfloor}(-1)^k 2^{-l} \binom{l}{k}\binom{2l-2k}{l} \frac{(l-2k)!}{(l-2k-m)!}r^{2k-l}z^{l-2k-m}\,,
\end{aligned}
\label{eq:spherical_harmonics}
\end{equation}
where $x$, $y$, and $z$ are the Cartesian components of vector $\mathbf{r}$ and $r=\lVert\mathbf{r}\rVert$.
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=\textwidth]{figures/sph.pdf}
\caption{\footnotesize Visualization of spherical harmonics $Y_l^m$ (Eq.~\ref{eq:spherical_harmonics}) of degree $l \in \{0,\dots,5\}$ and order $m \in \{-l,\dots,l\}$ (red and blue indicate positive and negative values, respectively). There are $(L+1)^2$ different possible combinations of $l$ and $m$ for a maximum degree $L$.}
\label{fig:spherical_harmonics}
\end{figure}
\subsection{Group equivariance in machine learning}
One of the first works to adopt a group theoretic approach to constructing equivariant neural networks was \citet{cohen2016group}, where equivariance for discrete finite groups is achieved by transforming the convolutional kernel or feature representation according to each group element and aggregating the results. While the method was initially developed for images, it could be extended to other types of data such as vector fields~\citep{marcos2017rotation}. However, the method was limited to applications with discrete groups and a small number of group elements, since the kernels/features need to be explicitly transformed for every group element.
\citet{cohen2016steerable} also explored the possibility of representing convolution kernels as a linear combination of equivariant basis functions, introducing the general concept and demonstrating it for the discrete group of $90^\circ$ rotations. \citet{worrall2017harmonic} used circular harmonics as a basis for the convolutional filters to achieve equivariance to the continuous SO(2) group of 2D rotations. This principle was soon extended to the SO(3) group of 3D rotations by using sphercal harmonics as basis functions \citep{Grisafi2018, cohen2018spherical, thomas2018tensor, weiler20183d, kondor2018clebsch}, which allows applications to 3D structures such as spherical images, voxel data, and point clouds, including atomistic systems. Similarly,~\citet{kondor2018covariant,hy2018predicting} used group theoretical principles to develop a permutationally equivariant graph neural network to predict properties for atomistic systems.
Most recently, there has been further theoretical research on equivariant neural networks, with ~\citet{cohen2019gauge} extending the principle of equivariance from global symmetries to local gauge transformations, allowing the implementation of a very efficient alternative to spherical CNNs~\citep{cohen2018spherical}, \citet{NEURIPS2019_ea9268cb} providing a proof of the universailty of equivariant graph networks with a single hidden layer, and works such as ~\citep{NEURIPS2019_b9cfe8b6,finzi2020generalizing} aiming to provide a general framework for the analysis and construction of equivariant networks for a wide range of problems.
In this work, we focus on introducing equivariant building blocks mainly used in the context of message-passing neural networks (MPNNs)~\citep{gilmer2017neural}, which are applicable to a variety of graph based problems. From this perspective, our work is most closely related to Cormorant~\citep{anderson2019cormorant} and tensor field networks and their variants~\citep{thomas2018tensor,Batzner2021_e3nn_molecular_dynamics}, which are rotationally equivariant MPNNs using spherical harmonics and SO(3) irreps as equivariant representations.
However, the architectures, feature representations, and operations used in these works have some significant differences to some of the most successful rotationally invariant MPNNs for chemical applications (e.g.\ \citep{schutt2017schnet,unke2019physnet}). When designing our proposed SE(3)-equivariant operations, the aim was to mimic the main building blocks of rotationally invariant MPNNs as closely as possible, such that existing architectures can be ``translated'' to an equivariant framework. Our hope was to benefit from design principles that proved to be successful in previous works, without the need to re-design a successful architecture around the concept of rotational equivariance from scratch. As a result, our proposed PhiSNet architecture (based on the rotationally invariant PhysNet~\citep{unke2019physnet}) has several key differences compared to previous equivariant MPNNs.
For example, Cormorant does not use explicit activation functions and instead relies on an operation similar to our proposed tensor product contractions as a source of non-linearities, which can cause difficulties during training. While tensor field networks apply activation functions to scalar features (similar to our work), couplings between features of different degrees are only possible in convolution layers, where two (or more) different representations are interacting. In contrast, the operations proposed in this work allow activation functions to affect all degrees of all feature channels through the use of $\mathrm{selfmix}$ layers.
Our proposed spherical linear layer (which contains a $\mathrm{selfmix}$ operation) acts as a drop-in replacement of linear layers in invariant architectures and allows couplings between all channels and degrees of feature representations.
Additionally, we introduce tensor product expansions of irreducible representations as a general way to construct highly complex second order tensors, while preserving their equivariance properties.
\section{Additional details on SE(3)-equivariant neural network building blocks}
\label{sec:additional_details_network_building_blocks}
\begin{figure}
\centering
\includegraphics[width=\textwidth]{figures/network_layers_v4.pdf}
\caption{\footnotesize Illustration of PhiSNet components. \textbf{A}: Generation of atomic spherical harmonics features $\mathbf{f}$. The Cartesian coordinates $\{\mathbf{r}_i\}$ of the atoms are used to calculate a spherical harmonics representation of the relative atomic positions. An embedding layer (purple) creates initial atomic features from the nuclear charges $\{Z_i\}$, which are refined through a series of equivariant modular blocks (blue). The outputs $\mathbf{y}$ of each modular block are summed to obtain the final representations $\mathbf{f}$. \textbf{B}: Modular block. Input representations are separated into two branches, which produce separate features for the central $\mathbf{i}$ and neighboring atoms $\mathbf{j}$. These are coupled by an interaction block (green) and added to the original features to produce the $\mathbf{x}$ and $\mathbf{y}$ outputs. \textbf{C}: Residual blocks (Eq.~\ref{Meq:residual_block}) pass input features through two non-linear activations and spherical linear layers and add the result to the unmodified input via a skip-connection. \textbf{D}: Spherical linear layers (Eq.~\ref{Meq:spherical_linear_layer}) are composed of a selfmix layer (Eq.~\ref{Meq:selfmix_layer}) followed by separate linear layers for each spherical harmonic order and are used to re-combine spherical harmonic orders and feature channels. \textbf{E}: The interaction block (Eq.~\ref{Meq:interaction_block}) encodes information about chemical environments by combining features of neighboring atoms with a spherical harmonics based representation of their relative position to a central atom. \textbf{F}: Self-interaction features are generated by updating central atom features with features of neighboring atoms, similar to the interaction block (Eq.~\ref{Meq:self_interaction_feats}). \textbf{G}: Pair-interaction features are obtained by combining the features of a pair of atoms with a pairmix layer and interacting them with the neighboring atoms of the first atom in each pair (Eq.~\ref{Meq:pair_interaction_feats}).}
\label{fig:nn_architecture}
\end{figure}
\subsection{Properties of the generalized SiLU activation function}
\label{subsec:activation_function}
Depending on the values of $\alpha$ and $\beta$, the generalized SiLU activation (Eq.~\ref{Meq:activation_function2}) smoothly interpolates between a linear function and the popular ReLU activation~\citep{nair2010rectified} (see Fig.~\ref{fig:activation_function}). The initial values are chosen as $\alpha = 1.0$ and $\beta=1.702$ such that Eq.~\ref{Meq:activation_function2} approximates the GELU function~\citep{hendrycks2016gaussian}.
\begin{figure}[h]
\includegraphics[width=\textwidth]{figures/activation.pdf}
\caption{\footnotesize Generalized SiLU activation (see Eq.~\ref{Meq:activation_function2}). (A) When the parameters are set to $\alpha=1.0$, $\beta=1.702$, Eq.~\ref{Meq:activation_function2} approximates the GELU function~\citep{hendrycks2016gaussian}. (B) For $\beta \to \infty$, $\sigma(x) \to \alpha\cdot \mathrm{max}(0,x)$, i.e.\ $\sigma(x)$ approaches a (scaled) ReLU activation~\citep{nair2010rectified}. (C) When $\beta$ is zero, Eq.~\ref{Meq:activation_function2} is a linear function with slope $\frac{\alpha}{2}$.}
\label{fig:activation_function}
\end{figure}
\subsection{Exponential Bernstein polynomial basis functions}
All distance-dependant SE(3)-equivariant operations (e.g.\ $\mathrm{pairmix}$ layers) rely on a vector $\mathbf{g} = [g_0(r)\ g_1(r)\ \dots\ g_{K-1}(r)]^{\top}$ representing a basis expansion of the distance via exponential Bernstein radial basis functions~\citep{unke2021spookynet} given by
\begin{equation}
\begin{aligned}
g_k(r) &= b_{K-1,k}\left(e^{-\gamma r}\right)f_{\rm cut}(r) \\
b_{\nu,n}(x)&=\binom{n}{\nu}x^{\nu}(1-x)^{n-\nu} \qquad \nu=0,\dots,n\\
f_{\rm cut}(r) &= \begin{cases}
\exp\left(-\dfrac{r^2}{(r_{\rm cut}-r)(r_{\rm cut}+r)}\right) & r < r_{\rm cut}\\
0 & r \geq r_{\rm cut}
\end{cases}\,,
\end{aligned}
\label{eq:bernstein_basis_function}
\end{equation}
where $b_{\nu,n}(x)$ are ordinary Bernstein basis polynomials.
For $n\to\infty$, linear combinations of $b_{\nu,n}(x)$ approximate any continuous function on the interval $[0,1]$ uniformly~\citep{bernstein1912demo}. The transformation $x=e^{-\gamma r}$ maps distances $r$ from $[0,\infty]$ to $[0,1]$ and introduces a chemically meaningful inductive bias, i.e.\ wave functions of electrons are known to decay exponentially with increasing distance from a nucleus (a similar mapping is also used in Refs.~\citenum{unke2019physnet}~and~\citenum{hermann2020deep}). The parameter $\gamma$ is a learnable ``length scale'' and the cutoff function $f_{\rm cut}(r)$ ensures that $g_k(r)$ smoothly goes to zero for $r \geq r_{\rm cut}$ (see Fig.~\ref{fig:radial_basis_functions}). For computational efficiency, all radial basis function expansions across all layers share the same $\gamma$. This way, only one vector $\mathbf{g}(r)$ needs to be computed for each relevant distance $r$.
\begin{figure}[h]
\includegraphics[width=\textwidth]{figures/rbfs.pdf}
\caption{Exponential Bernstein basis functions $g_k(r)$ for $K=16$, $\gamma = 0.5\ \mathrm{a}_0^{-1}$, and $r_{\rm cut}=15\ \mathrm{a}_0$ (see Eq.~\ref{eq:bernstein_basis_function}). Since the Bernstein basis polynomials form a partition of unity, the sum $\sum_k g_k(r)$ is equal to $f_{\rm cut}(r)$.}
\label{fig:radial_basis_functions}
\end{figure}
\section{Additional details on the PhiSNet architecture}
\label{sec:additional_details_phisnet}
\subsection{Element descriptors used in embeddings}
\label{subsec:embedding}
The embeddings used in the PhiSNet architecture rely on element descriptors $\mathbf{d}_Z$, which encode information about the nuclear charge and the ground state configuration of each element. For example, oxygen ($Z=8$) has the ground state configuration 1s$^2$2s$^2$2p$^4$ and its corresponding descriptor is $\mathbf{v}_8= [8\ 2\ 2\ 4]^{\top}$ (see Table~\ref{tab:species_descriptor} for more examples). In this work, only elements from periods 1 and 2 of the periodic table are considered, i.e.\ 4-dimensional descriptors (with entries for $Z$, 1s, 2s, and 2p electrons) are sufficient. To include elements from higher periods, the descriptors could be extended with additional entries (for example for 3s and 3p electrons for period 3 elements). While the bias term $\mathbf{b}_Z$ in Eq.~\ref{Meq:embedding_layer} offers sufficient degrees of freedom to learn arbitrary embeddings for different elements, including the term $\mathbf{W}\mathbf{d}_Z$ provides an inductive bias that takes into account the quantum chemical structure of different elements. Similar element descriptors are also used in \citep{unke2021spookynet}.
\begin{table}[h]
\centering
\begin{tabular}{c c c c c c}
\toprule
element & Z & 1s & 2s & 2p & $\mathbf{d}_Z^{\top}$ \\
\midrule
H & 1 & 1 & 0 & 0 & $[1\ 1\ 0\ 0]$\\
C & 6 & 2 & 2 & 2 & $[6\ 2\ 2\ 2]$\\
N & 7 & 2 & 2 & 3 & $[7\ 2\ 2\ 3]$\\
O & 8 & 2 & 2 & 4 & $[8\ 2\ 2\ 4]$\\
\bottomrule
\end{tabular}
\caption{\footnotesize Examples of element descriptors $\mathbf{d}_Z$.}
\label{tab:species_descriptor}
\end{table}
\subsection{Details on the block-wise Hamiltonian matrix prediction}
To illustrate the process of the block-wise Hamiltonian matrix construction for a concrete example, let us consider a water molecule using a minimal basis set, i.e.\ a single basis function is used to represent each atomic orbital. Water consists of two H atoms ($Z=1$) with a 1s ($l=0$) orbital, and one O atom ($Z=8$) with a 1s ($l=0$), a 2s ($l=0$), and a 2p ($l=1$) orbital. An orbital with degree $l$ has $2l+1$ distinct orders $m$, so the complete Hamiltonian is a $7\times7$ matrix. In general, to represent the $(2l_1+1)\times(2l_2+1)$ matrix block that corresponds to the interaction between two orbitals of degrees $l_1$ and $l_2$, we need irreps for all degrees $l_3 \in \{|l_1-l_2|,...,l_1+l_2\}$. In the case of water with a minimal basis set, there are three main cases to consider:
\begin{enumerate}
\item Interaction between two s-orbitals ($l_1=0, l_2=0$), i.e.\ $\mathbb{1}\otimes\mathbb{1}=\mathbb{1}$ ($1\times 1$ matrix block, an irrep of degree $l_3=0$ is needed)
\item Interaction between an s- and a p-orbital ($l_1=0, l_2=1$), i.e.\ $\mathbb{1}\otimes\mathbb{3}= \mathbb{3}$ ($1\times 3$ matrix block, an irrep of degree $l_3=1$ is needed)
\item Interaction between two p-orbitals ($l_1=1, l_2=1$), i.e.\ $\mathbb{3}\otimes\mathbb{3}= \mathbb{1}\oplus\mathbb{3}\oplus\mathbb{5}$ ($3\times 3$ matrix block, irreps of degrees $l_3=0,1,2$ are needed)
\end{enumerate}
We now have to assign unique channel indices to collect irreps of all degrees for the interaction between individual orbitals from the self-interaction and pair-interaction features $\mathbf{f}_{ii}$ and $\mathbf{f}_{ij}$. The indices are stored in the corresponding index sets $I^{\rm self}$ and $I^{\rm pair}$ and the total number of feature channels needs to be chosen large enough (such that all assigned indices are valid). To construct the diagonal blocks, 6 irreps of degree 0, 5 irreps of degree 1, and 1 irrep of degree 2 are necessary, whereas for the off-diagonal blocks, 5 irreps of degree 0, and 2 irreps of degree 1 are required (see Tab.~\ref{tab:h2o_irrep_breakdown} for a complete breakdown). Fig.~\ref{fig:hamiltonian_composition} illustrates how the irreps are transformed to matrix blocks via tensor product expansions (Eq.~\ref{Meq:tensor_product_expansion}) and accumulated to construct the complete Hamiltonian matrix.
\begin{table}[h]
\centering
\begin{tabular}{c c c c}
\toprule
\multicolumn{4}{c}{\bf irreps for diagonal blocks}\\
$I^{\rm self}(Z,n,m,L)$ & orbital interaction & order & index\\
\midrule
$I^{\rm self}(8,1,1,0)$ & O:1s $\times$ O:1s $\rightarrow \mathbb{1}$ & 0 & 1 \\
$I^{\rm self}(8,1,2,0)$ & O:1s $\times$ O:2s $\rightarrow \mathbb{1}$ & 0 & 2\\
$I^{\rm self}(8,2,1,0)$ & O:2s $\times$ O:1s $\rightarrow \mathbb{1}$ & 0 & 3\\
$I^{\rm self}(8,2,2,0)$ & O:2s $\times$ O:2s $\rightarrow \mathbb{1}$ & 0 & 4\\
$I^{\rm self}(8,3,3,0)$ & O:2p $\times$ O:2p $\rightarrow \mathbb{1}$ & 0 & 5 \\
$I^{\rm self}(1,1,1,0)$ & H:1s $\times$ H:1s $\rightarrow \mathbb{1}$ & 0 & 6\\
$I^{\rm self}(8,1,3,1)$ & O:1s $\times$ O:2p $\rightarrow \mathbb{3}$ & 1 & 1\\
$I^{\rm self}(8,2,3,1)$ & O:2s $\times$ O:2p $\rightarrow \mathbb{3}$ & 1 & 2\\
$I^{\rm self}(8,3,1,1)$ & O:2p $\times$ O:1s $\rightarrow \mathbb{3}$ & 1 & 3\\
$I^{\rm self}(8,3,2,1)$ & O:2p $\times$ O:2s $\rightarrow \mathbb{3}$ & 1 & 4\\
$I^{\rm self}(8,3,3,1)$ & O:2p $\times$ O:2p $\rightarrow \mathbb{3}$ & 1 & 5\\
$I^{\rm self}(8,3,3,2)$ & O:2p $\times$ O:2p $\rightarrow \mathbb{5}$ & 2 & 1\\
\midrule
\multicolumn{4}{c}{\bf irreps for off-diagonal blocks}\\
$I^{\rm pair}(Z_1,Z_2,n_1,n_2,L)$ & orbital interaction & order & index\\
\midrule
$I^{\rm pair}(8,1,1,1,0)$ & O:1s $\times$ H:1s $\rightarrow \mathbb{1}$ & 0 & 1\\
$I^{\rm pair}(8,1,2,1,0)$ & O:2s $\times$ H:1s $\rightarrow \mathbb{1}$ & 0 & 2\\
$I^{\rm pair}(1,8,1,1,0)$ & H:1s $\times$ O:1s $\rightarrow \mathbb{1}$ & 0 & 3\\
$I^{\rm pair}(1,8,1,2,0)$ & H:1s $\times$ O:2s $\rightarrow \mathbb{1}$ & 0 & 4\\
$I^{\rm pair}(1,1,1,1,0)$ & H:1s $\times$ H:1s $\rightarrow \mathbb{1}$ & 0 & 5\\
$I^{\rm pair}(8,1,3,1,0)$ & O:2p $\times$ H:1s $\rightarrow \mathbb{3}$ & 1 & 1\\
$I^{\rm pair}(1,8,1,3,0)$ & H:1s $\times$ O:2p $\rightarrow \mathbb{3}$ & 1 & 2\\
\bottomrule
\end{tabular}
\caption{\footnotesize Breakdown of all irreps necessary to construct the Hamiltonian matrix for a water molecule using a minimal basis set. Here, we label the 1s orbital of H with the number 1, and the 1s, 2s, and 2p orbitals of O with the numbers 1, 2, and 3. Note that channel indices can be chosen arbitrarily, as long as indices for irreps of the same order are unique and the assignment is consistent.}
\label{tab:h2o_irrep_breakdown}
\end{table}
\begin{figure}[h]
\centering
\includegraphics[width=\textwidth]{figures/hamiltonian_construction_v2.pdf}
\caption{\footnotesize An illustration for the construction of the Hamiltonian matrix for a water molecule using a minimal basis set, showing how irreps of different orders are transformed via tensor product expansions to reconstruct the Hamiltonian matrix block-by-block. The irreps are represented by colored squares labelled $c_{ii}$ or $c_{ij}$, where $c$ is the channel index (see Tab.~\ref{tab:h2o_irrep_breakdown}) and the subscript specifies atom indices. Different orders of an irrep are represented by individual squares of the same color.
Expanded irreps are placed at the appropriate position in the matrix depending on the orbital-pair interaction that the block represents. The individual blocks are then added together to form the diagonal and off-diagonal parts of the matrix, after which the two parts are combined and the result is added to its transpose in order to ensure the final result is a symmetric matrix.}
\label{fig:hamiltonian_composition}
\end{figure}
\subsection{Overlap matrix prediction}
\label{subsec:overlap_matrix}
Since the overlap matrix $\mathbf{S}$ represents the overlap integral of atomic orbital basis functions, it is not affected by many-body effects and its entries depend only on the types of interacting elements and their relative orientation and distance. Thus, simplified feature representations can be used to construct it. Self-interaction features for the overlap matrix are obtained by passing the initial atomic feature representations $\mathbf{x}$ (produced by the embedding layer from the nuclear charges $Z$) through a spherical linear layer and a residual block:
\begin{equation}
\begin{aligned}
\mathbf{u}_{ii}^{(l)} &= \mathrm{sphlinear}_{L \to L,F \to F}(\mathbf{x}_i)^{(l)}\,,\\
\mathbf{s}_{ii} &= \mathrm{residual}(\mathbf{u}_{ii})\,.
\end{aligned}
\label{eq:self_interaction_overlap}
\end{equation}
Similarly, pair-interaction features are generated according to:
\begin{equation}
\begin{aligned}
\mathbf{u}_{ij}^{(l)} &= \mathrm{pairmix}_{L,L\to L}(\mathbf{x}_i,\mathrm{sphlinear}_{L\to L,1 \to F}\left(\mathbf{Y}(\mathbf{r}_{ij})\right),\lVert \mathbf{r}_{ij}\rVert)^{(l)}\,,\\
\mathbf{s}_{ij} &= \mathrm{residual}(\mathbf{u}_{ij})\,.
\end{aligned}
\label{eq:pair_interaction_overlap}
\end{equation}
The overlap matrix is then assembled from the features $\mathbf{s}_{ii}$ and $\mathbf{s}_{ij}$ (insteaf of $\mathbf{f}_{ii}$ and $\mathbf{f}_{ij}$) analogously to other Hamiltonian matrices.
\section{Datasets}
\label{sec:datasets}
The DFT datasets (containing energies, forces, Kohn--Sham matrices and overlap matrices) for water, ethanol, malondialdehyde and uracil were taken from \citep{schutt2019unifying} and are also available on \href{http://quantum-machine.org/datasets/}{http://quantum-machine.org/datasets/}.
The corresponding data for the aspirin molecule was obtained from \citep{gastegger2020deep}.
With the exception of water, these datasets are based on subsets of structures drawn from the MD17 dataset. Water structures were sampled using a classical force field.
All quantities in these datasets have been computed at the PBE/def2-SVP level of theory, where PBE denotes the computational method (in this case density functional) and def2-SVP the atomic basis set used for expanding the wavefunction.
The water datasets used in the transfer learning experiments use the same molecular structures as the DFT water data.
Based on these structures energies, forces, as well as Fock, overlap and core Hamiltonian matrices (the latter three only in the case of HF/cc-pVDZ) were computed at the HF/cc-pVDZ and CCSD(T)/cc-pVTZ levels of theory using the PSI4 code package~\citep{smith2020psi4}.
Further details, such as data set size, are provided in Tab.~\ref{tab:datasets}.
\begin{table}[h]
\caption{Datasets used in this work. The level of theory refers to the combination of method and basis set used to calculate molecular properties. $N_\mathrm{mol}$ denotes the number of molecular structures in each dataset, while $N_\mathrm{atoms}$ is the number of atoms.
$N_\mathrm{basis}$ is the total number of atomic basis functions used to express the wavefunction of a molecule. All matrix properties (Fock matrix, core Hamiltonian, Kohn--Sham matrix and overlap matrix) are of the dimension $N_\mathrm{basis} \times N_\mathrm{basis}$. We omit this value for the last row, where no matrix quantities have been computed.}
\label{tab:datasets}
\centering
\begin{tabular}{llrrrl}
\toprule
Dataset & Level of theory & $N_\mathrm{mol}$ & $N_\mathrm{atoms}$ & $N_\mathrm{basis}$ & Source\\
\midrule
Water & PBE/def2-SVP & 4\,999 & 3 & 24 & \citep{schutt2019unifying}\\
Ethanol & PBE/def2-SVP & 30\,000 & 9 & 72 & \citep{schutt2019unifying}\\
Malondialdehyde & PBE/def2-SVP & 26\,978 & 9 & 90 & \citep{schutt2019unifying}\\
Uracil & PBE/def2-SVP & 30\,000 & 12 & 132 & \citep{schutt2019unifying}\\
Aspirin & PBE/def2-SVP & 30\,000 & 21 & 222 & \citep{gastegger2020deep}\\
Water & HF/cc-pVDZ & 4\,999 & 3 & 24 & this work\\
Water & CCSD(T)/cc-pVTZ & 4\,999 & 3 & - & this work\\
\bottomrule
\end{tabular}
\end{table}
\section{Training procedure and hyperparameters}
\label{sec:training_procedure}
All models in this work use $F=128$ feature channels with a maximum degree $L_{\rm max} = 4$, and $K=128$ basis functions with a cutoff radius of $r_{\rm cut}=15 a_0$ (see Eq.~\ref{eq:bernstein_basis_function}), resulting in roughly 17M parameters (for comparison, SchNOrb~\citep{schutt2019unifying} uses 93M parameters). The parameters were optimized with AMSGrad~\citep{reddi2019convergence} using an initial learning rate of $10^{-3}$, other hyperparameters of the optimizer were set to the recommended defaults. The performance on the validation set was evaluated every 1k training steps and the learning rate decayed by a factor of 0.5 if the validation loss did not decrease for 10 consecutive evaluations. Training was stopped once the learning rate was smaller than $10^{-5}$ and the best-performing model (lowest validation loss) was selected. All models were trained on a single NVIDIA Titan Xp GPU.
\subsection{DFT datasets}
Models for DFT datasets were trained by minimizing the loss function
\begin{equation}
\mathcal{L} = \frac{1}{N_{\rm batch}} \sum_{b=1}^{N_{\rm batch}} \left( \lVert \mathbf{K}_b^{\mathrm{ref}}-\mathbf{K}_b\rVert_F^2 + \lVert \mathbf{S}_b^{\mathrm{ref}}-\mathbf{S}_b\rVert_F^2 \right)\,,
\label{eq:dft_loss}
\end{equation}
where $\mathbf{K}_b$ and $\mathbf{S}_b$ are the predicted Kohn-Sham and overlap matrices for structure $b$ in the batch,
$\mathbf{K}_b^{\mathrm{ref}}$ and $\mathbf{S}_b^{\mathrm{ref}}$ denote the corresponding reference matrices, and $\lVert \cdot \rVert_F^2$ is the squared Frobenius norm. The batch, training set, validation set, and test set sizes used for the different datasets are given in Tab.~\ref{tab:dftsettings}.
\begin{table}[h]
\caption{Batch, training set, validation set, and test set sizes for models trained on the DFT datasets.}
\label{tab:dftsettings}
\centering
\begin{tabular}{llrrr}
\toprule
Dataset & $N_{\rm batch}$ & $N_{\rm train}$ & $N_{\rm valid}$ & $N_{\rm test}$ \\
\midrule
Water & 50 & 500 & 500 & 3\,999 \\
Ethanol & 10 & 25\,000 & 500 & 4\,500 \\
Malondialdehyde & 10 & 25\,000 & 500 & 1\,478 \\
Uracil & 5 & 25\,000 & 500 & 4\,500 \\
Aspirin & 2 & 25\,000 & 500 & 4\,500 \\
\bottomrule
\end{tabular}
\end{table}
\subsection{Transfer learning from HF to CCSD(T)}
For the transfer learning experiment, the model is trained on the same structures with data computed both at the HF/cc-pVDZ and CCSD(T)/cc-pVTZ levels of theory (see last two rows of Tab.~\ref{tab:datasets}). We use a batch size of $N_{\rm batch} = 25$, and training, validation, and test sets of sizes $N_{\rm train} = 500$, $N_{\rm valid} = 500$, and $N_{\rm test}=3\,999$.
First, the model is trained by minimizing the loss function
\begin{equation}
\mathcal{L}_1 = \frac{1}{N_{\rm batch}} \sum_{b=1}^{N_{\rm batch}} \left( \lVert \mathbf{F}_b^{\mathrm{ref}}-\mathbf{F}_b\rVert_F^2 + \lVert + \lVert \mathbf{H}_b^{\mathrm{core,ref}}-\mathbf{H}_b^{\mathrm{core}}\rVert_F^2 + \lVert \mathbf{S}_b^{\mathrm{ref}}-\mathbf{S}_b\rVert_F^2 \right)\,,
\label{eq:hf_matrix_loss}
\end{equation}
where $\mathbf{F}_b$, $\mathbf{H}_b^{\rm core}$, $\mathbf{S}_b$ are the predicted Fock, core Hamiltonian, and overlap matrices for structure $b$ in the batch,
and $\mathbf{F}_b^{\rm ref}$, $\mathbf{H}_b^{\rm core,ref}$, $\mathbf{S}_b^{\rm ref}$ denote the corresponding HF-level reference matrices. Although a model trained in this way reaches matrix prediction errors that are comparable with the results obtained for DFT datasets (see Tab.~\ref{Mtab:comparison_with_schnorb}), we observe that errors for energies and forces derived from the predicted matrices (using Eq.~\ref{eq:ground_state_en}) are much larger. We speculate that this is due to the fact that all matrix elements are weighed equally when computing $ \mathcal{L}_1$, although some elements will have a much greater effect on the energy and forces than others. For this reason, we re-train our model on the HF data using a new loss function $\mathcal{L} = \mathcal{L}_1 + \mathcal{L}_2$ with
\begin{equation}
\mathcal{L}_2 = \frac{1}{N_{\rm batch}} \sum_{b=1}^{N_{\rm batch}}\left( (E_b^{\rm{ref}}-E_b)^2 + \frac{1}{N} \sum_{i=1}^{N} \left\lVert-\frac{\partial E_b}{ \partial \mathbf{R}_{b,i}}-\mathbf{f}_{b,i}^{\rm{ref}}\right\rVert^2\right) \,,
\label{eq:hf_energy_force_loss}
\end{equation}
which incorporates information from HF-level energy and forces directly. Here, $E_b$ is the predicted energy for structure $b$ in the batch, $E_b^{\rm ref}$ the corresponding HF reference, $\mathbf{f}_{b,i}^{\rm ref}$ the reference force acting on atom $i$ in structure $b$ and $\mathbf{R}_{b,i}$ its Cartesian coordinates (in total, each structure contains $N$ atoms). Force predictions are obtained using automatic differentiation. After re-training with the modified loss, energy and force predictions are improved substantially, although the prediction of matrix elements deteriorates slightly (see Tab.~\ref{tab:hf_results}).
\begin{table}[h]
\begin{tabular}{l c c c c c}
\toprule
\multirow{2}{*}{\bf model} & $\mathbf{F}$ & $\mathbf{S}$ & $\mathbf{H}_{\rm core}$ & energy & forces \\
& [$10^{-6}~\mathrm{E}_{\rm h}$] & [$10^{-6}$] & [$10^{-6}~\mathrm{E}_{\rm h}$] & [$10^{-3}~\mathrm{E}_{\rm h}$] & [$10^{-3}~\mathrm{E}_{\rm h}/a_0$] \\
\midrule
trained on $\mathcal{L}_1$ & 24.77 & 1.06 & 39.90 & 6.51 & 57.10 \\
re-trained on $\mathcal{L}_1+\mathcal{L}_2$ & 46.94 & 5.32 & 58.00 & 0.117 & 2.289\\
\bottomrule
\end{tabular}
\caption{Comparison of mean absolute prediction errors for models trained on HF/cc-pVDZ reference data.}
\label{tab:hf_results}
\end{table}
We also experimented with training a model directly on $\mathcal{L} = \mathcal{L}_1 + \mathcal{L}_2$, but found that this does not work: The matrices predicted at the beginning of training lead to numerical instabilities when solving the generalized eigenvalue problem (Eq.~\ref{eq:schrodinger_matrix_equation}), i.e.\ a warm-up-phase using the pure matrix loss $\mathcal{L}_1$ is necessary for convergence.
Finally, the re-trained model is fine-tuned using the loss function
\begin{equation}
\mathcal{L}_{\rm TL} = \frac{1}{N_{\rm batch}} \sum_{b=1}^{N_{\rm batch}} \left( \frac{1}{N} \sum_{i=1}^{N} \left\lVert-\frac{\partial E_b}{ \partial \mathbf{R}_{b,i}}-\mathbf{f}_{b,i}^{\rm{ref,CC}}\right\rVert^2 + \lVert \mathbf{H}_b^{\mathrm{core,ref}}-\mathbf{H}_b^{\mathrm{core}}\rVert_F^2 + \lVert \mathbf{S}_b^{\mathrm{ref}}-\mathbf{S}_b\rVert_F^2 \right)
\label{eq:hf_cc_loss}
\end{equation}
where $\mathbf{f}_{b,i}^{\rm ref,CC}$ are the reference forces computed at the CCSD(T)/cc-pVTZ level of theory, whereas the reference matrices $\mathbf{H}_b^{\rm core,ref}$ and $\mathbf{S}_b^{\rm ref}$ are taken from the HF/cc-pVDZ data. Note that there is a constant energy offset between CCSD(T)/cc-pVTZ and HF/cc-pVDZ data, which cannot be expressed when deriving energies with Eq.~\ref{eq:ground_state_en} without also modifying the core Hamiltonian, which is why CCSD(T)/cc-pVTZ level reference energies are not used in Eq.~\ref{eq:hf_cc_loss}. Note that for any practical chemical application, only the relative energy between two structures is a well-defined quantity (absolute energies can be modified arbitrarily by adding constants without changing the underlying physics). To still be able to compute both energy and force errors with respect to the CCSD(T)/cc-pVTZ reference (see Section~\ref{Msec:results} in the main text), we analytically fit an energy shift constant that minimizes the squared error between energy predictions and reference energies in the training set and add it to the model prediction before evaluating it on the test set.
| {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaArXiv"
} | 5,438 |
After claiming two podiums during his first international campaign in 2018 following his step up from national level, Hokkanen is now looking to make more progress in the Pirelli-supported category for drivers born on or after 1 January 1992 competing in R2 cars.
Hokkanen has joined Spanish outfit Mavisa Sport and recruited fellow Finn Rami Suorsa to co-drive his Peugeot 208 R2. He will make his 2019 debut on the all-asphalt Rally Islas Canarias from 2-4 May. | {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaC4"
} | 9,491 |
import React from 'react';
import Feature from 'app/components/acl/feature';
import Button from 'app/components/button';
type Props = React.PropsWithChildren<{
className?: string;
}> &
React.ComponentProps<typeof Button>;
/**
* Provide a button that turns itself off if the current organization
* doesn't have access to discover results.
*/
function DiscoverButton({children, ...buttonProps}: Props) {
return (
<Feature features={['organizations:discover-basic']}>
{({hasFeature}) => (
<Button disabled={!hasFeature} {...buttonProps}>
{children}
</Button>
)}
</Feature>
);
}
export default DiscoverButton;
| {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaGithub"
} | 8,199 |
TECNO Spark 3 wins AITTA Phone of the Year award
TECNO WINS AITTA Phone Award
TECNO Spark 3, a smartphone model by TECNO, Africa's leading smartphone brand, has been awarded as the smartphone brand of the year at the 2019 edition of the Africa Information Technology & Telecoms Awards (AITTA).
Held at the at the Movenpick Ambassador Hotel, Accra Ghana on 28th June 2019, the AITTA has been acclaimed as one of the most prestigious platforms recognising excellence and innovation in the African telecoms and technology industry.
The TECNO Spark 3 was awarded as the phone of the year as a result of its cutting-edge features as well as positive reviews shared by TECNOs loyal customers.
Commenting on the award, Jeff Tang, Marketing Manager of TECNO Nigeria said: "We dedicate this award to every member of the team at TECNO, because of our belief that 'together we can do more'. We are humbled to receive this award. At TECNO, we will use this worthy recognition as a fuel to push the boundaries of mobile technology and innovation across Africa and beyond. In Nigeria, we shall continue to build a brand that's useful, and beneficial to the Nigerian people as TECNO is for Nigerians"
The award also buttressed a recent report by Brand Africa, that shows TECNO as the No 5 most admired brand in Africa. In the last two years, TECNO has risen year on year, first from number 14 spot to number 7 and now to number 5.
Entering the Nigerian market in 2006 with its first phone called the T201, TECNO also pioneered the first dual SIM smartphone in Nigeria, a feature that was 'badly' needed in a market where owning a dual SIM device is a necessity due to unreliable mobile network coverage across the country.
PROMOTED: Adoke: How I was Framed Up with Fake Tape over OPL 245
The truth about Lagos-Ibadan railway project, by Abdullahi Mohammed
PROMOTED: Documents Vindicate Akpabio on Supply of Dialysis Machines to Akwa Ibom Hospital
ZenIth Bank introduces free banking for senior citizens
SUNCITY NEWS to honour eminent Nigerians for contribution to nation building
Eva Water is Safe, Nigerian Bottling Company Assures Consumers | {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaCommonCrawl"
} | 2,039 |
var awsRoleStorage;
function awsRoleStorageReady(){
//clear roles list
$("#roles-list").empty();
//add roles to list
awsRoleStorage.roles.forEach(function(role){
$("#roles-list").append('<li class="list-group-item" data-xaws-account="' + role.account +'" data-xaws-role="' + role.role +'" data-xaws-displayname="' + role.displayName +'">' + role.account + '/' + role.role +'</li>');
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document.addEventListener('DOMContentLoaded', function() {
$( "#roles-list" ).on( "click", "li", function() {
var tabCreateObject = {
url:'https://signin.aws.amazon.com/switchrole?account=' + $(this).data('xaws-account') + '&roleName=' + $(this).data('xaws-role') + '&displayName=' + $(this).data('xaws-displayname')
};
chrome.tabs.create(tabCreateObject, function(tab){
var executeScriptObject = {
file: 'js/inject.js'
};
chrome.tabs.executeScript(tab.id, executeScriptObject);
})
});
$( "#content" ).on( "awsRoleStorageReady", function( event ) {
awsRoleStorageReady();
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awsRoleStorage = new AwsRoleStorage();
});
| {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaGithub"
} | 6,125 |
\section{Introduction}
Engineering electronic systems at the nanoscale is becoming a fascinating
way to realize unconventional states of matter, ones that
break the Fermi liquid paradigm.
Some recent examples include
several ways of realizing one-dimensional Luttinger liquid
physics~\cite{ChangRev,DeshpandeRevNature10,ClaessenNP11,LarocheScience14},
gate-tunable molecules showing quantum phase transitions~\cite{RochPRL09,FlorensReview11},
and tailored double quantum dots in semiconductors exhibiting
complex behaviors such as multichannel Kondo physics~\cite{GoldhaberGRev07A,Potok2CK07}.
Further progress and new classes of anomalous behavior can be realized by
combining {\it both} fine-tuned nanostructures and tailored environments,
as demonstrated by a series of recent
experiments~\cite{ParmentierPierreNatPhys11,MebrahtuNat12,MebrahtuNatPhys13,JezouinPierreNatComm13}
involving quantum tunneling at the nanoscale in the presence of strong dissipation in the
contacts. In this type of system, single electron tunneling events
create large electromagnetic fluctuations, that become energetically
prohibitive in a strongly resistive circuit. This so-called dynamical Coulomb
blockade phenomenon leads to inelastic losses that can be
quite effective in impeding low-energy electrons from transporting current, and
so dramatically depress the conductance for small applied voltage bias
across the device (typically in a power-law fashion).
This physical behavior is quite reminiscent of the problem of quantum tunneling
in Luttinger liquids, one-dimensional conducting wires where Coulomb interaction
effects are prominent~\cite{GiamarchiBook}.
In that case, power-law zero-bias anomalies in transport
also arise due to excitations of collective plasmon modes. This analogy can
be formally pushed to a general theoretical equivalence between the two problems
using bosonization techniques~\cite{SafiSaleurPRL04}, which makes dissipative
circuits an attractive method for probing local aspects of Luttinger liquid physics in
nanocircuits.
Recent experimental investigations further explored this
analogy by extending previous single barrier devices to quantum dot
systems~\cite{MebrahtuNat12,MebrahtuNatPhys13}.
Here, additional quantum degrees of freedom are introduced, such
as the quantized charge and magnetic moment for the localized electronic
level. Previous theoretical arguments~\cite{MebrahtuNat12,FlorensPRB07}
showed that the Luttinger analogy is still maintained, opening an
interesting playground for quantum critical and anomalous Kondo-type
behavior.
In the present paper, we aim at analyzing in detail the
transport characteristics in the simpler case when only the local electron
charge is the relevant variable, as can be realized by a full spin-polarization
of the electronic states in a large magnetic field. This situation
results in complex signatures because zero bias anomalies
are very sensitive to the typical transmission through the device. They can, for
instance, be washed out when the transmission of the electron channel approaches
unity.
While the complete loss of dynamical Coulomb blockade at perfect transmission is
correct for single tunnel barriers, it turns out to be quite non-trivial in the
case of resonant tunneling through a perfectly transmitting electronic level.
We show here that full transmission
does survive large dissipation in the contacts, but extra energy loss in the
environment is still possible which then modifies the low-temperature behavior of
the conductance. This behavior can be rationalized
when the dissipation is fine-tuned such that the
impedance is close to the quantum value $h/e^2$
(here $h$ is Planck's constant and $e$ the electron charge),
where an exact mapping to resonant Majorana levels can be achieved at low energy.
Losses in the circuit are then embodied in Majorana interaction terms, that were
discarded in previous theoretical studies~\cite{KomnikPRL03}.
In contrast, we show that these terms are not only large
in magnitude for
dissipative circuits, but even control the leading behavior of the conductance
near the unitary limit. Here, a striking behavior of the inelastic scattering
rate---\emph{linear} in temperature and voltage---is obtained, which we view as a
hallmark of interacting Majorana quantum criticality that was uncovered in recent
experimental studies~\cite{MebrahtuNatPhys13}.
A further question that we wish to examine here is to what extent single barrier
scaling applies to the quantum dot setup when the system deviates from the
resonance condition. We show that corrections due to the Majorana interaction term
are in this case---and in contrast to the resonant case mentioned above---very
rapidly suppressed at low temperature, typically as $T^4$. This result vindicates
the use of usual dynamical Coulomb blockade theory in a more general way than
previously thought.
The paper is organized as follows. In Sec.~\ref{Model} we present our
model of resonant tunneling with dissipation, and outline the connection
to Luttinger and Majorana physics. In Sec.~\ref{Transport}, we present
a general theory of transport formulated in the Majorana language and
provide a perturbative treatment of inelastic processes, leading to a
detailed study of various transport scaling laws in Sec.~\ref{Scaling}.
\section{Majorana representation of dissipative resonant tunneling}
\label{Model}
\subsection{Modeling a resonant level with dissipative leads}
We present here the basic model for resonant tunneling through a single spin-polarized
electronic level with resistive leads characterized by the dimensionless
quantity $r=Re^2/h$,
the ratio of the lead zero-frequency impedance $R$ to the resistance quantum $h/e^2$.
For simplicity, we drop spin indices. Our starting Hamiltonian reads
\begin{equation}
H=H_{\textrm{dot}}+H_{\textrm{leads}}+H_{\textrm{T}}+H_{\textrm{env}},
\label{eq:H}
\end{equation}
where $H_{\textrm{dot}}=\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}d^{\dagger}d$ is the Hamiltonian
representing the dot with a single energy level $\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}$ (tuned by the
backgate voltage $V_\mathrm{gate}$), and
$H_{\textrm{leads}}=\sum_{\textrm{\textrm{\ensuremath{\alpha}=S,D}}}
\sum_{k}\epsilon_{k}c_{k\alpha}^{\dagger}c_{k\alpha}$
describes the electrons in the source (S) and drain (D) electrodes.
Tunneling between the dot and the leads with amplitudes $V_{S/D}$ is
given by
\begin{equation}
H_{\textrm{T}}=V_{S}\sum_{k}(c_{kS}^{\dagger}e^{-i\varphi_{S}}d+ {\rm h.c.} )
+V_{D}\sum_{k}(c_{kD}^{\dagger}e^{i\varphi_{D}}d+ {\rm h.c.} ),
\label{eq:Htunnel}
\end{equation}
where the operators $\varphi_{S/D}$ describe phase fluctuations of the
tunneling amplitude between the dot and the S/D lead. These phase operators
are canonically conjugate to the charge operators $Q_{S/D}$ associated with
the S/D junctions.
Here, we have adopted the standard treatment quantum tunneling in the presence of a
dissipative environment \cite{IngoldNazarov92}, which is valid for electrons propagating
much slower than the electromagnetic field \cite{Nazarovbook}.
It is useful to transform to phase variables related to the total charge on the dot.
To that end, we introduce \cite{IngoldNazarov92} two new phase operators,
\begin{eqnarray}
\varphi_{S} & \equiv & \kappa_{S}\varphi+\psi \qquad\nonumber \\
\varphi_{D} & \equiv & \kappa_{D}\varphi-\psi \;,\label{eq:}
\end{eqnarray}
where $\kappa_{S/D}=C_{S/D}/(C_{S}+C_{D})$ in terms of the capacitances of the
dot to the source/drain contacts, $C_{S/D}$. The phase $\psi$ is the variable
conjugate to the fluctuations of total charge on the dot $Q_{c}=Q_{S}-Q_{D}$ and
so couples to voltage fluctuations on the gate which controls the energy level
of the dot.
Likewise, $\varphi$ is the variable conjugate to the charge transferred accross
the device, $Q=(C_{S}Q_{D}+C_{D}Q_{S})/(C_{D}+C_{S})$. Assuming for simplicity
$C_{S}=C_{D}$, we have $\varphi_{S}=\varphi/2+\psi$ and $\varphi_{D}=\varphi/2-\psi$.
The gate voltage fluctuations will be disregarded here, as the gate capacitance
in the experiment of Ref.~\cite{MebrahtuNat12,MebrahtuNatPhys13} was negligible,
$C_{g}\ll C_{S/D}$.
(The opposite limit of a strongly fluctuating gate coupled to a resonant level but with no dissipation in the leads was considered theoretically in Refs.\,\cite{ImamAverinPRB94,ButtikerPRL00,LeHurPRL04,LeHurLiPRB05,BordaPRB05,BordaZarandX06,GlossopIngersent07,ChungQPT,ChengIngersent09}, and the combination of both types of dissipation was recently treated in Ref.\,\cite{Dong2bathsPRB14}.)
Thus, only the {\it relative} phase difference between the two leads remains
\cite{IngoldNazarov92,FlorensPRB07}, and the tunneling Hamiltonian becomes
\begin{equation}
H_{\textrm{T}}=V_{S}\sum_{k}(c_{kS}^{\dagger}e^{-i\frac{\varphi}{2}}d
+ {\rm h.c.})+V_{D}\sum_{k}(c_{kD}^{\dagger}e^{i\frac{\varphi}{2}}d+ {\rm h.c.} ).
\end{equation}
The last part of Eq. (\ref{eq:H}) is the Hamiltonian of the environment,
$H_{\textrm{env}}$ \cite{CaldeiraPRL81,LeggettRMP87,IngoldNazarov92}. The environmental
modes are represented by harmonic oscillators controlled by inductances and
capacitances such that the frequency of environmental modes are given by
$\omega_{k}=1/\sqrt{L_{k}C_{k}}$. These oscillators are then bilinearly coupled
to the phase operator $\varphi$ through the relevant phase variable:
\begin{equation}
H_{\textrm{env}}=\frac{Q^{2}}{2C}+\sum_{k=1}^{N}\left[\frac{q_{k}^{2}}{2C_{k}}
+\left(\frac{\hbar}{e}\right)^{2}\frac{1}{2L_{k}}\left(\varphi-\varphi_{k}\right)^{2}\right].
\end{equation}
\subsection{The Luttinger bosonic representation}
Now, we use bosonization~\cite{GiamarchiBook} to map model (\ref{eq:H}) to the
Hamiltonian of a resonant level contacted to two Luttinger liquids.
Here, we follow closely previous work on tunneling through a single barrier with an
environment \cite{SafiSaleurPRL04,LeHurLiPRB05} and the Kondo effect in the presence of resistive leads \cite{FlorensPRB07} (see also our previous work in Refs.\,\cite{MebrahtuNat12,MebrahtuNatPhys13}).
The source and drain leads can be standardly reduced to two semi-infinite non-chiral
one-dimensional free fermionic baths~\cite{GiamarchiBook}.
By an unfolding procedure, one obtains two infinitely-propagating chiral
fields~\cite{GiamarchiBook}, which both couple to the dot at the origin $x=0$.
One can then bosonize the fermionic fields~\cite{GiamarchiBook} as
$c_{S/D}(x)=\frac{1}{\sqrt{2\pi a_0}} \exp[i\phi_{S/D}(x)]$ (we neglect Klein factors
for simplicity as their role is unimportant here), where $\phi_{S/D}$ are the bosonic fields introduced to
describe the electronic states in the leads, and $a_0$ is a short distance cutoff.
Defining the flavor field $\phi_{f}$ and charge field $\phi_{c}$ by
\begin{equation}
\phi_{f} \equiv \frac{\phi_{S}-\phi_{D}}{\sqrt{2}}, \qquad
\phi_{c} \equiv \frac{\phi_{S}+\phi_{D}}{\sqrt{2}},
\label{eq:defphifc}
\end{equation}
one can rewrite the lead Hamiltonian as
\begin{equation}
H_{\textrm{leads}}=\frac{v_{F}}{4\pi}\int_{-\infty}^{\infty}dx
\left[\left(\partial_{x}\phi_{c}\right)^{2}+\left(\partial_{x}\phi_{f}\right)^{2}\right].
\end{equation}
with $v_F$ the Fermi velocity. The tunneling Hamiltonian then becomes
\begin{eqnarray}
H_{\textrm{T}} & = & \frac{V_{S}}{\sqrt{2\pi a_0}}\,
\text{exp}\left[-i\frac{\phi_{c}(0)+\phi_{f}(0)}{\sqrt{2}}-i\frac{\varphi}{2}
\right] d+ {\rm h.c.} \nonumber \\
& + & \frac{V_{D}}{\sqrt{2\pi a_0}}\,
\text{exp}\left[-i\frac{\phi_{c}(0)-\phi_{f}(0)}{\sqrt{2}}
+i\frac{\varphi}{2}\right] d+ {\rm h.c.}.
\end{eqnarray}
A key feature of $H_{\textrm{T}}$ is that the fields $\varphi$ and $\phi_{f}(0)$ enter in the same way in the tunneling process. Combining these two fields together embodies a local tunneling process which is analogous to having effectively interacting leads as in a Luttinger liquid. We thus combine the phase factors as
\begin{subequations}
\label{eq:defphifprime}
\begin{eqnarray}
\phi_{f}' &\equiv&
\sqrt{g}\left(\phi_{f}(0) +\frac{1}{\sqrt{2}}\varphi\right),\qquad \\
\varphi' &\equiv& \sqrt{g}\left(\sqrt{r}\phi_{f}(0)
-\frac{1}{\sqrt{2r}}\varphi\right),
\end{eqnarray}
\end{subequations}
where $g\equiv 1/(1+r)\leq1$ and the new fields are scaled so that they are free fields away from the tunneling points.
The action describing the tunneling in terms of the new phase variables then reads
\begin{eqnarray}
\nonumber
S_{\textrm{T}}&=&\int d\tau \Bigg[\frac{V_{S}}{\sqrt{2\pi a_0}}
e^{-i\frac{1}{\sqrt{2}}\phi_{c}(\tau)}e^{-i\frac{1}{\sqrt{2g}}\phi_{f}'(\tau)}d
+{\rm c.c.}\\
&&
+\frac{V_{D}}{\sqrt{2\pi a_0}}
e^{-i\frac{1}{\sqrt{2}}\phi_{c}(\tau)}e^{i\frac{1}{\sqrt{2g}}\phi_{f}'(\tau)}d
+ {\rm c.c.}\Bigg] \;.
\label{eq:LT}
\end{eqnarray}
Because of the local nature of the tunneling Hamiltonian, one can proceed with an
integration over all phase modes away from the origin as well as of the environmental modes. This leads to an effective action for the combined leads and environment given by~\cite{KanePRB92,FurusakiPRB93,LeggettRMP87,SafiSaleurPRL04,FlorensPRB07}
\begin{equation}
S_{\textrm{Leads+Env}}^{\textrm{eff}}\!\!=\frac{1}{\beta}\sum_{n}|\omega_{n}|
\left(|\phi_{c}(\omega_{n})|^{2}+|\phi_{f}'(\omega_{n})|^{2}+|\varphi'(\omega_{n})|^{2}\right) ,
\label{eq:Seff}
\end{equation}
with $\omega_{n}=2\pi n T$ a Matsubara frequency ($T$ is temperature,
$\beta=1/T$, and $n$ is an integer).
It turns out that one obtains a very similar effective action
by starting from a model of spinless resonant level
coupled to Luttinger liquids \cite{KanePRB92,FurusakiPRB93,EggertAffleckPRB92},
with Luttinger parameter $g$ ($g<1$ for repulsive interactions). Thus, in
the absence of dissipation, $r=0$, one recovers the correct limit of
non-interacting fermions $g=1$.
\subsection{The Majorana mapping}
\label{sec:MajoranaMap}
In this last step, we concentrate on the special value $r=1$, corresponding to a
fine-tuned circuit impedance $R=h/e^2$ (close to the experimental value of
Ref.\,\cite{MebrahtuNatPhys13}), which admits making interesting analytical progress.
We use here the refermionization~\cite{GiamarchiBook} of the tunneling
term~(\ref{eq:LT}), which starts by performing a unitary transformation
\cite{EmeryKivelsonPRB92,KomnikPRL03}, $U=\exp[i(d^{\dagger}d-1/2) \phi_c(0) / \sqrt{2}]$,
in order to eliminate the $\phi_c$ charge field in the tunneling action,
Eq. (\ref{eq:LT}):
\begin{equation}
S_{\textrm{T}} =
\int \!\!d\tau \Big[\frac{V_{S}}{\sqrt{2\pi a_0}}
e^{-i\frac{1}{\sqrt{2g}}\phi_{f}'(\tau)}d
+\frac{V_{D}}{\sqrt{2\pi a_0}}
e^{i\frac{1}{\sqrt{2g}}\phi_{f}'(\tau)}d \Big]
+ {\rm c.c.}\;.
\label{eq:ST}
\end{equation}
This operation generates a new contact interaction between the dot and the
phase field:
\begin{equation}
H_{C}= -\pi v_F \,(d^{\dagger}d-1/2)\, \partial_x \phi_c(x=0) \;.
\end{equation}
For the special value $g=1/2$, corresponding to $r=1$, one can identify
fictitious but emergent fermionic fields $\psi_{c}=e^{i\phi_{c}}/\sqrt{2\pi a_0}$
and $\psi_{f}=e^{i\phi_{f}'}/\sqrt{2\pi a_0}$.
Electron waves in the contacts and environment fluctuations in the circuit are thus
combined together in a non-trivial way into non-interacting (free) fermionic species.
All the complexity of the tunneling process now reduces to the form
\begin{subequations}
\begin{eqnarray}
\label{eq:DefHMajorana}
H_\textrm{Majorana}&\equiv&
H_T + H_\textrm{dot}+ H_C \\
\label{eq:Hfinal}
&=& \big[ V_S \,\psi_f^\dagger(0) \, d +{\rm h.c.}\big] + \big[V_D \,\psi_f(0) \, d +{\rm h.c.}\big]\\
\nonumber
&& + \, \epsilon_d \, d^\dagger d -\pi v_F \,\colon\psi_c^\dagger(0) \psi_c(0)
\colon\,
(d^\dagger d - 1/2),
\end{eqnarray}
\end{subequations}
where $H_\textrm{Majorana}$ describes everything not included in the harmonic leads and environment,
$H = H_\textrm{leads} + H_\textrm{env} + H_\textrm{Majorana}$.
A remarkable feature of this effective Hamiltonian is the presence of ``pairing''
terms, like $\psi_f(0) d$, in contrast to the initial tunneling Hamiltonian
Eq.\,(\ref{eq:Htunnel}) where the number of fermions is conserved.
The underlying reason for the appearance of these pairing terms is that current
in the source-drain circuit is produced both by destroying an electron on the
dot while moving it to the drain and by moving an electron from the source to
the dot; hence, $\psi_f$ (the field describing the current) couples to both $d$
and $d^\dagger$.
This structure motivates the introduction of a Majorana description of
the local electronic level,
\begin{equation}
\gamma_1 \equiv \frac{d+d^\dagger}{\sqrt{2}} \quad \text{and} \quad
\gamma_2 \equiv \frac{d-d^\dagger}{\sqrt{2}i},
\end{equation}
so that $\gamma_1$ and $\gamma_2$ obey
$\gamma_1^\dagger=\gamma_1$, $\gamma_2^\dagger=\gamma_2$,
$\{\gamma_1,\gamma_2\}=0$, and $\gamma_1^2=\gamma_2^2=1/2$.
The effective tunneling Hamiltonian~(\ref{eq:Hfinal}) then becomes
\begin{eqnarray}
\label{eq:HMajorana}
H_\textrm{Majorana}&=&
(V_S-V_D)\frac{\psi_f^\dagger(0)-\psi_f(0)}{\sqrt{2}} \gamma_1 \\
\nonumber
&& + i (V_S+V_D) \frac{\psi_f^\dagger(0)+ \psi_f(0)}{\sqrt{2}} \gamma_2 \\
\nonumber
&& + i \epsilon_d \,\gamma_1 \gamma_2 + i \lambda
\,\colon\psi_c^\dagger(0)\psi_c(0) \colon
\,\gamma_1 \gamma_2,
\end{eqnarray}
with $\lambda=- \pi v_F$.
A very special working point can be identified from Hamiltonian~(\ref{eq:HMajorana}):
$V_S=V_D$ and $\epsilon_d=0$ corresponding to symmetric tunneling amplitudes to source and drain and exactly on resonance. In that case the $\gamma_1$ Majorana mode does
not hybridize to either the leads or the $\gamma_2$ Majorana level; the latter
is, however, tunnel coupled to the fermion bath. If one momentarily forgets
the contact interaction [last term in
Eq.~(\ref{eq:HMajorana})], one obtains the solvable Emery-Kivelson
point~\cite{EmeryKivelsonPRB92,KomnikPRL03}, described by a non-interacting Majorana
resonant level model for mode $\gamma_2$ together with a perfectly decoupled
Majorana mode $\gamma_1$. This leads to a Majorana quantum critical state with fractional
degeneracy (the ground state entropy is then $S=\log[\sqrt{2}$]).
In our case, the interaction strength $\lambda$ is, however, large and certainly cannot
be neglected.
\emph{One purpose of the present paper is to investigate the
consequences of this contact interaction---we will see that it strongly affects
the quantum critical properties.}
We note finally that for $r$ close to one,
one obtains a Majorana model equivalent to Eq.~(\ref{eq:HMajorana}), but now with
weakly interacting Luttinger fermionic
fields~\cite{FabrizioPRB95,GoldsteinPRB10,AffleckPrivCom}, described by a new effective
Luttinger parameter $\tilde{g}-1 \approx (1-r)/2$.
This residual interaction among the fermions leads to slight modifications
of the transport laws derived in the following, but without affecting dramatically, we believe, the general picture. Although the critical state is then not exactly described
by a Majorana zero mode, the associated ground state still possesses entropy
$S=\log[\sqrt{1+r}]$ associated with a non-trivial fractional
degeneracy~\cite{WongAffleck94}.
\section{General transport theory of interacting Majorana modes}
\label{Transport}
We now investigate in detail the conductance through the dot for $r=1$, both at
and away from the critical state, taking into account the Majorana interaction
term. It is natural to split the Majorana Hamiltonian~(\ref{eq:HMajorana}) into
non-interacting and interacting parts, $H_\textrm{Majorana}=H_0+H_C$, allowing a
perturbative treatment of $H_C$. We are guided by similar perturbative
treatments near the Emery-Kivelson point in other physical systems in which
thermodynamic quantities as well as the bulk resistivity have been
calculated~\cite{SenguptaPRB94,ColemanIoffeTsvelik,ZitkoPRB11}. A general
conductance formula is first derived in the Majorana description, and then it is
evaluated perturbatively to second order.
\subsection{Current operator in Majorana terms}
The starting point for the derivation of a general conductance formula is the
current operator, $I \equiv i \big[(N_S - N_D)/2,\, H\big]$ where $N_{S/D}$
denote the number operators for the original fermions in the leads. Applying the
transformations in Eqs.\,(\ref{eq:defphifc}) and (\ref{eq:defphifprime}) and
noting that the unitary operator applied in Sec.\,\ref{sec:MajoranaMap} does not
affect the current operator~\cite{Dong2bathsPRB14}, we find
\begin{equation}
I = \frac{i}{2}\left[N_f,H \right] =
\frac{i}{2}\left\{ V_S\psi^{\dagger}_f(0)-V_D\psi_f(0)\right\} d+{\rm h.c.},
\label{eq:Current}
\end{equation}
using the refermionized form of the tunneling amplitude, Eq.~(\ref{eq:HMajorana}), and denoting the number operator for the transformed $\psi_f$ fermions
by $N_f$.
In the rest of this paper, we focus on the \emph{symmetric} coupling case,
$V_S=V_D \equiv V$, and examine scaling laws both in the vicinity of and away
from the Majorana quantum critical point by \emph{tuning} the level position
$\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}$.
It turns out to be advantageous to introduce a Majorana fermion representation for the
fermionic bath $\psi_f$ as well:
\begin{eqnarray}
a(x)&\equiv&\frac{\psi_f(x)+\psi^{\dagger}_f(x)}{\sqrt{2}},\qquad
b(x)\equiv\frac{\psi_f(x)-\psi^{\dagger}_f(x)}{\sqrt{2}i}.
\label{eq:Majorana_Rep}
\end{eqnarray}
The tunneling Hamiltonian and contact interaction appearing in Eq.~(\ref{eq:HMajorana})
can then be rewritten as
\begin{equation}
H_T=2i\,V \,a(0) \,\gamma_2,\qquad H_C=i\lambda \,\gamma_1 \,\gamma_2
\,\colon\!\! \psi^{\dagger}_c(0)\psi_c(0)\colon,
\label{eq:HTHC_MR}
\end{equation}
and the current operator becomes simply
\begin{equation}
I=i\sqrt{2}\, V \,b(0)\,\gamma_2 .
\end{equation}
\subsection{Majorana Green functions}
We wish to find the linear response conductance \cite{BruusBook}
\begin{equation}
G=-\underset{\omega\rightarrow0}{\text{lim}}\;
\frac{e^2}{\hbar\omega}\text{Im}C^{R}_{II}(\omega),
\end{equation}
where the retarded current-current correlator can be obtained via the analytic
continuation of the Matsubara frequency correaltor,
$C^{R}_{II}(\omega)=C_{II}(i\omega_n\rightarrow \omega+i\eta)$. The Matsubara
correlator $C_{II}(i\omega_n)$ is in turn given by~\cite{BruusBook}
\begin{subequations}
\label{eq:CII}
\begin{eqnarray}
C_{II}(i\omega_n)&=&\int^{\beta}_0 d\tau e^{i\omega_n\tau}C_{II}(\tau), \\
C_{II}(\tau)&=&-\langle T_{\tau}I(\tau)I(0)\rangle
=-\frac{\text{Tr}[e^{-\beta H} T_{\tau} I(\tau)I(0)]}{\text{Tr}[e^{-\beta H}]},
\end{eqnarray}
\end{subequations}
where $T_{\tau}$ is the time ordering operator in imaginary time.
$C_{II}(i\omega_n)$
can be computed using the Matsubara frequency Green function
method, with the basic non-interacting Green functions of Majorana fermions defined as
\begin{equation}
G^{(0)}_{AB}(\tau)\equiv-\langle T_{\tau} A(\tau)B(0)\rangle_0
=-\frac{\text{Tr}[e^{-\beta H_0} T_{\tau} A(\tau)B(0)]}{\text{Tr}[e^{-\beta H_0}]},
\label{eq:GAB}
\end{equation}
where $A$, $B=a(0)$, $b(0)$, $\gamma_1$ or $\gamma_2$.
Notice that Eqs.\,(\ref{eq:CII}b) and (\ref{eq:GAB}) are evaluated under, respectively, the full Hamiltonian $H_\textrm{Majorana}$ and the non-interacting Hamiltonian $H_0$ .
Using the equation of motion technique \cite{BruusBook}, one readily finds the
non-interacting ($\lambda=0$) Green functions exactly. The retarded free Green functions in
frequency space are
\begin{subequations}
\label{eq:GF_0}
\begin{eqnarray}
&& \!\!\!\!\!\! \left(\begin{array}{cc}
G^{(0)}_{\gamma_1\gamma_1}(\omega) & G^{(0)}_{\gamma_1\gamma_2}(\omega) \\[2mm]
G^{(0)}_{\gamma_2\gamma_1}(\omega) & G^{(0)}_{\gamma_2\gamma_2}(\omega) \\
\end{array}
\right)=\frac{1}{\omega(\omega+i\Gamma)-\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}^2}
\left(\begin{array}{cc}
\omega+i\Gamma & i\epsilon_{\textrm{d}} \\
-i\epsilon_{\textrm{d}} & \omega \\
\end{array}
\right) \quad\;\; \label{eq:G0gamgam}\\[2mm]
&& G^{(0)}_{a(0)a(0)}(\omega)=
-i\pi\rho\left[1+\frac{-i\Gamma\omega}{\omega(\omega+i\Gamma)-\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}^2}\right] \\[2mm]
&& \left( \begin{array}{c}
G^{(0)}_{a(0)\gamma_1}(\omega) \\[2mm]
G^{(0)}_{a(0)\gamma_2}(\omega) \\
\end{array}
\right)= \frac{-2i\pi\rho V}{\omega(\omega+i\Gamma)-\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}^2}
\left(\begin{array}{c}
\epsilon_{\textrm{d}} \\
i\omega \\
\end{array}
\right) \label{eq:G0agam}\\[2mm]
&& G^{(0)}_{b(0)b(0)}(\omega)=-i\pi\rho,\\[2mm]
&& G^{(0)}_{b(0)A}(\omega)
=0, \quad A=a(0),\; \gamma_{1},\; \text{or}\; \gamma_{2},
\end{eqnarray}
\end{subequations}
where $\Gamma=4\pi\rho V^2$ and $\rho$ is the electronic density of states. From
Eq.\,(\ref{eq:GF_0}) we see that the dot Majorana fermions hybridize with the
$a(0)$ field, leaving the $b(0)$ field decoupled. In the special case
$\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}=0$, while the $\gamma_2$ mode still couples to the $a(0)$ field,
the $\gamma_1$ mode is now totally decoupled [see Eqs.\,(\ref{eq:G0gamgam}) and (\ref{eq:G0agam})]. For $\lambda=0$, this corresponds
to the Majorana quantum critical state described by the solvable Emery-Kivelson point already discussed in Sec.~\ref{Transport}.
\subsection{General conductance formula}
Because the $b(0)$ field does not couple to any other Majorana modes, and
since the contact interaction Eq.\,(\ref{eq:HTHC_MR}) does not involve $b(0)$
either, the Green function of $b(0)$ can be exactly separated out in the
current-current correlator of Eq.\,(\ref{eq:CII}), even in the interacting case
$\lambda\neq0$.
It readily follows that the linear-response conductance can be written in terms
of only the full spectral function of the $\gamma_2$ Majorana fermion, given by
\begin{equation}
A_{\gamma_2}(\omega)=-\text{Im}G^{R}_{\gamma_2\gamma_2}(\omega).
\label{eq:SpectralFunction}
\end{equation}
The prefactor of the conductance is fixed by taking into account the Fermi-liquid nature of electrons in the source and drain reserviors; thus, the maximum conductance is $e^2/h$ instead of $ge^2/h$ \cite{MaslovPRB95,SafiSchulzPRB95,PonomarenkoPRB95}.
We thus find that
\begin{equation}
G=\frac{e^2}{h}\int d\omega \Gamma A_{\gamma_2}(\omega)
\left( -\frac{\partial n_F(\omega)}{\partial \omega}\right),
\label{eq:G_SF}
\end{equation}
where $n_F(\omega)$ is the Fermi distribution function.
\emph{This is one of the main results of the paper: it shows that the
interacting Majorana transport theory can be formulated within a simple
Landauer-type expression involving the full Majorana spectral function.} This
expression is similar to the well-known Meir-Wingreen formula for the
conductance through an interacting quantum dot \cite{MeirWingreenPRL92}. Indeed,
the conductance can usually be expressed this way when the leads are
non-interacting, which is not the case in our present study due to strong
dissipation in the leads. We note that a similar though more complicated
expression holds in the case of asymmetric coupling, $V_S \neq V_D$.
At the Emery-Kivelson point $\lambda=0$, using Eq.\,(\ref{eq:GF_0}a), one
obtains an exact expression for the dimensionless conductance in the absence of
contact interaction, as found previously by Komnik and Gogolin \cite{KomnikPRL03}:
\begin{equation}
g_0=\frac{G_{\lambda=0}}{e^2/h}=\int d\omega
\frac{\Gamma^2\omega^2}{(\omega^2-\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}^2)^2+\Gamma^2\omega^2}
\left( - \frac{\partial n_F(\omega)}{\partial \omega}\right).
\label{eq:g0}
\end{equation}
In this equation, the structure of the spectral function is quite different
from the familiar Lorentzian lineshape for resonant fermionic tunneling, because of
the non-trivial effect of dissipation in the leads.
At zero temperature, this Emery-Kivelson solution displays a quantum phase transition
controlled by the detuning $\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}$ \cite{KanePRB92,FurusakiPRB93,EggertAffleckPRB92,MebrahtuNat12}:
when $\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}=0$, the ground state is a conducting state with a unitary
conductance $g_0(T=0)=e^2/h$, otherwise the conductance vanishes.
We are mainly interested in the scaling behavior close to and away from
the Majorana quantum critical point, in the presence of the contact interaction.
\begin{figure}[t!]
\centering
\includegraphics[width=0.35\textwidth]{2nd-order-diagram.pdf}
\caption{\textbf{Second-order diagram of the resonant level Majorana fermion
self-energy.} The bath $\langle \psi^{\dagger}_c\psi_c\rangle$ and
Majorana $\langle \gamma_\alpha \gamma_\alpha \rangle$ propagators are represented
by wiggly and straight lines, respectively. Here, $\alpha=1,2$ label the two
Majorana species, and we defined $\bar{\alpha}=1$ if $\alpha=2$ (and vice-versa).
}
\label{fig:2nd-diagram}
\end{figure}
\subsection{Perturbative treatment around the Emery-Kivelson point}
\label{Pert}
We now present perturbative results for the conductance away from
the Emery-Kivelson point at order $\lambda^2$. A similar strategy was used
previously to find thermodynamic quantities and the bulk resistivity in the two-channel Kondo
context~\cite{SenguptaPRB94,ColemanIoffeTsvelik,ZitkoPRB11}.
Straighforward calculations (see Appendix~\ref{App1}) give the following correction to the $\gamma_2$ propagator:
\begin{equation}
\label{PropFinal}
\delta G_{\gamma_2\gamma_2}^{(2)}(\omega)=\lambda^2\sum_{\alpha,\beta=1,2}(-1)^{\alpha+\beta}
G^{(0)}_{\gamma_2\gamma_{\alpha}}(\omega) \Sigma^R_{\bar{\alpha}\bar{\beta}}(\omega)
G^{(0)}_{\gamma_{\beta}\gamma_2}(\omega) ,
\end{equation}
where $\bar{\alpha}=1$ if $\alpha=2$ and vice-versa. The associated
self-energy matrix
(see the diagram in Fig.\,\ref{fig:2nd-diagram})
reads
\begin{eqnarray}
\label{SelfFinal}
\Sigma^R_{\alpha \beta}(\omega)&=& \int
\frac{d\omega_1d\omega_2}{\pi}\frac{(-\pi\rho^2\omega_1)
\text{Im}[G^{(0)}_{\gamma_{\alpha}\gamma_{\beta}}(\omega_2) ]}{\omega+i\eta-\omega_1-\omega_2}\\
&& \nonumber \times \left[n_B(\omega_1)+n_F(-\omega_2) \right].
\end{eqnarray}
The resulting (dimensionless) second-order correction to the linear-response
conductance is therefore given by
\begin{equation}
\delta g_2=\frac{\delta G_2}{e^2/h}=\int d\omega \Gamma \delta A^{(2)}_{\gamma_2}(\omega)
\left(-\frac{\partial n_F(\omega)}{\partial \omega}\right),
\label{eq:corr_G}
\end{equation}
where the second-order correction to the spectral density is
$\delta A^{(2)}_{\gamma_2}(\omega)=-\text{Im}[\delta G_{\gamma_2\gamma_2}^{(2)}(\omega)]$.
Eqs.\,(\ref{eq:g0}-\ref{eq:corr_G}) are the central results of this paper;
they allow us to investigate the various scaling laws related to dissipative tunneling.
\section{Analysis of the transport scaling laws}
\label{Scaling}
In this section, we study in detail the scaling laws, and examine three
different regimes: (i) large detuning (Sec.~\ref{sec:large}); (ii) perfect
tuning at the Majorana quantum critical point (Sec.~\ref{sec:perfect}); (iii) small
detuning away from the quantum critical point (Sec.~\ref{sec:small}).
The main question to be addressed is whether the scaling laws
derived from the non-interacting Hamiltonian at the Emery-Kivelson point are
modified by the perturbation of the contact interaction.
\begin{figure}[tb]
\centering
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{Figure1_QCP10_v2.pdf}
\caption{(color online) \textbf{Large detuning, conductance shows single-barrier scaling.}
(a)~Low-temperature behavior of the conductance $g_0$ at
the Emery-Kivelson point (red, diamond) and the interaction-driven correction
$\delta g_2$ (blue, circle), in the regime of sizeable detuning
(here $\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}=0.1\,\Gamma$
for which $\Gamma' \approx 0.02 \,\Gamma$),
as a function of $T/\Gamma$.
(b)~The small dimensionless ratio $-\delta g_2/[g_0(\rho \lambda)^2]$ indicates
the validity of the single-barrier scaling in the present case.}
\label{fig:SB}
\end{figure}
\subsection{Large detuning: single barrier scaling}
\label{sec:large}
The simplest situation is that of a deep level in the quantum dot,
$|\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}| \gtrsim \Gamma'$, where $\Gamma'$ is the low-energy
renormalized width of the resonance (which can be much smaller than $\Gamma$).
As a result, the electrons tunnel through the system in a single process
(co-tunneling)~\cite{IngoldNazarov92},
with only virtual occupation of the resonant level.
In this case, the backscattering operator (in the bosonization formulation)
is relevant at low temperatures. The backscattering drives the system to an insulating
state~\cite{KanePRB92,FurusakiPRB93,EggertAffleckPRB92,Sassetti_Napoli_Weiss_95,PolyakovPRB03,BomzePRB09}.
Thus, the exact solution $g_0(T)$ at
the Emery-Kivelson point in this situation should have the same low-temperature
scaling as the conductance in tunneling through a strong single barrier \cite{KanePRB92}
in a Luttinger liquid, namely $g_0(T)\propto T^{2(1/g-1)}=T^2$ at low temperature.
This was indeed verified in Ref.\,\onlinecite{KomnikPRL03} and can be seen
by performing the integral in Eq.\,(\ref{eq:g0}) at $T\rightarrow 0$ for large
detuning,
\begin{equation}
g_0\approx \int d\omega \frac{\Gamma^2\omega^2}{\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}^4}
\frac{\beta \text{e}^{\beta\omega}}{(1+\text{e}^{\beta\omega})^2}
=\frac{\pi^2}{3}\left(\frac{T}{\Gamma}\right)^2\left(\frac{\Gamma}{\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}}\right)^4.
\end{equation}
The contact interaction should, for small $\lambda$, become ineffective in this
limit: when the dot dynamics is frozen, the contribution of the contact
interaction to $\delta g_2$ is irrelevant. Analyzing the asymptotic
low-temperature scaling of Eq.\,(\ref{eq:corr_G}), we find indeed
\begin{equation}
\delta g_2\propto -\left(\frac{T}{\Gamma}\right)^4\left(\frac{\Gamma}{\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}}\right)^6.
\end{equation}
Figure\,\ref{fig:SB}(a) shows the results for $g_0$ and $\delta g_2$ at
$\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}=0.1\,\Gamma$ after performing the numerical integrals in
Eqs.\,(\ref{eq:g0}) and (\ref{eq:corr_G}). Although $\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}$ is
not very large for this particular example, the single-barrier scaling law
is already remarkably well obeyed.
The observed low-temperature scaling ($\sim T^2$ for $g_0$ and $\sim T^4$ for
$\delta g_2$) confirms our asymptotic analysis.
Figure\,\ref{fig:SB}(b) plots the ratio between $\delta g_2$ and $g_0$
normalized by the dimensionless perturbation parameter $(\rho\lambda)^2$, which
should be less than $1$ to validate the perturbation theory. In the
low-temperature regime, this ratio is much smaller than $1$ and scales to zero
as $T^2$. Therefore, we conclude that including the contact interaction
term perturbatively up to second-order does not modify the
low-temperature single barrier scaling at the insulating fixed
point. This finding corroborates the experimental observation
\cite{MebrahtuNatPhys13} of the applicability of single-barrier scaling
\cite{AristovEPL08} to describe the dissipative resonant-level system away
from the resonance.
\subsection{Low-temperature scaling at the conducting critical point}
\label{sec:perfect}
We now consider the case of perfect tuning to the quantum critical
point $\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}=0$, and focus on the low-temperature approach
to the unitary conductance~\cite{MebrahtuNat12} for $T\ll\Gamma$.
By solving for the exact solution at the Emery-Kivelson point ($\lambda=0$),
Komnik and Gogolin~\cite{KomnikPRL03} pointed out that the approach obeys a Fermi liquid
form~\cite{PolyakovPRB03}, as can be checked in the considered regime
from Eq.~(\ref{eq:g0}):
\begin{equation}
g_0= 1- \int d\omega\frac{\omega^4}{\omega^4+\Gamma^2\omega^2}
\frac{\beta \text{e}^{\beta\omega}}{(1+\text{e}^{\beta\omega})^2}\approx
1- \frac{\pi^2}{3}\left(\frac{T}{\Gamma}\right)^2.
\end{equation}
This result however corresponds to an exact and unfortunate cancellation of
the leading irrelevant operator~\cite{EmeryKivelsonPRB92,SenguptaPRB94} at the conducting
fixed point.
From Eq.\,(\ref{eq:GF_0}), we observe that when $\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}=0$ only half of the
Majorana modes (namely $\gamma_2$) hybrize with the leads, leaving the $\gamma_1$
Majorana fermion fully decoupled from the rest of the system. Including the
contact interaction term $\lambda$ does not destroy the isolated Majorana mode;
however, it does give rise to an anomalous non-Fermi liquid temperature dependence.
In the resonant case, because the Green function between $\gamma_1$
and $\gamma_2$ vanishes [see Eq.\,(\ref{eq:GF_0}a)], the only non-zero
correction to the $\gamma_2$ propagator in
Fig.\,\ref{fig:2nd-diagram} is
\begin{equation}
\label{eq:g2_delta0}
\delta g_2=\int d\omega \Gamma \left(-\text{Im}\left[\lambda^2
\left(G^{(0)}_{\gamma_2\gamma_2}(\omega) \right)^2 \Sigma^R_{11}(\omega) \right] \right)
\left(-\frac{\partial n_F(\omega)}{\partial \omega}\right).
\end{equation}
For $\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}=0$, $G^{(0)}_{\gamma_2\gamma_2}(\omega) =1/(\omega+i\Gamma)$ and
$G^{(0)}_{\gamma_1\gamma_1}(\omega) =1/(\omega+i\eta)$.
Hence, $\text{Im}[G^{(0)}_{\gamma_1\gamma_1}(\omega) ]=-\pi \delta(\omega)$.
The self-energy $\Sigma^R_{11}$ can be evaluated readily
\begin{subequations}
\label{eq:Sigma_11}
\begin{eqnarray}
\Sigma^R_{11}(\omega,\;\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}=0)&=&\frac{\rho^2}{\beta}[P_1(\beta\omega)+iP_2(\beta\omega)], \\
P_1(\beta\omega)&=&\fint dx \frac{x}{\beta\omega-x}\frac{1}{2}\text{coth}\left(\frac{x}{2}\right), \\
P_2(\beta\omega)&=&-\frac{\pi\beta\omega}{2}\text{coth}\left(\frac{\beta\omega}{2}\right).
\end{eqnarray}
\end{subequations}
Plugging Eq.\,(\ref{eq:Sigma_11}) into Eq.\,(\ref{eq:g2_delta0}), we have
\begin{eqnarray}
\label{eq:g2_d0}
&& \delta g_2=(\rho\lambda)^2\int d\omega\left( -\frac{\Gamma}{\beta} \right)
\Bigg[ \frac{\omega^2-\Gamma^2}{(\omega^2+\Gamma^2)^2}P_2(\beta\omega)
\qquad\qquad\qquad \nonumber \\
&& \qquad\qquad\qquad\qquad\quad
-\frac{2\omega\Gamma}{(\omega^2+\Gamma^2)^2}P_1(\beta\omega) \Bigg]
\frac{\beta \text{e}^{\beta\omega}}{(1+\text{e}^{\beta\omega})^2}.
\end{eqnarray}
In the low-temperature limit, the $P_2$ part dominates, and we
obtain the following asymptotic scaling for $T\ll \Gamma$:
\begin{equation}
\label{eq:g2-T}
\frac{\delta g_2}{(\rho\lambda)^2}\approx
\int d\omega\left( -\frac{\Gamma}{\beta} \right)\frac{1}{\Gamma^2}
\frac{\pi\beta\omega}{2}\text{coth}\left(\frac{\beta\omega}{2}\right)
\frac{\beta \text{e}^{\beta\omega}}{(1+\text{e}^{\beta\omega})^2}
=-\frac{\pi^3}{8} \frac{T}{\Gamma}.
\end{equation}
This striking $T$ dependence is a strong signature of the uncoupled Majorana
mode $\gamma_1$. Indeed, on resonance $\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}=0$, the correlation
function of $\gamma_1$ does not decay at long time,
$G_{\gamma_1\gamma_1}(t)=-\langle \gamma_1(0)\gamma_1(t)\rangle \propto 1$, instead
of the usual $1/t$ decay for hybridized modes. This translates into a $1/t^2$
decay of the $\gamma_2$ self-energy correction (instead of $1/t^3$ for a usual
Fermi liquid), giving rise by Fourier transform to a linear in frequency scattering
rate.
This linear approach to the unitary conductance signals the presence
of an isolated Majorana state~\cite{SenguptaPRB94,ColemanIoffeTsvelik,ZitkoPRB11}, and
has been observed in a recent experiment \cite{MebrahtuNatPhys13}.
\begin{figure}[tb]
\centering
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{Figure2_QCP11.pdf}
\caption{(color online) \textbf{Approach to the quantum critical point; here $\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}=0$.}
(a)~Low-temperature behavior of $1-g_0$ (red, diamond)
and $\delta g_2$ (blue, circle) close to the conducting quantum critical point.
(b) The scaling of $-\delta g_2/[(1-g_0)(\rho \lambda)^2]$ as a function of $T/\Gamma$ shows that the interaction correction dominates.
}
\label{fig:Runaway}
\end{figure}
Figure\,\ref{fig:Runaway}(a) shows both $1\!-\!g_0$ and $\delta g_2$ obtained by
numerical integration. The asymptotic scalings are reproduced at low
temperatures. Figure\,\ref{fig:Runaway}(b) plots the ratio of
$-\delta g_2$ to $1-g_0$ normalized by the dimensionless perturbation parameter
$(\rho \lambda)^2$. As long as $(\rho\lambda)^2$ is not too small, the linear
temperature scaling strongly dominates over the quadratic
behavior as $T\!\rightarrow\! 0$. Hence, we conclude that the contact interaction
between the Majorana modes and the effective leads generates non-Fermi liquid
behavior at the Majorana quantum critical point.
Note that the four-fermion interaction term in Eq.~(\ref{eq:HMajorana}) is too
large ($\lambda = \pi v_F$) for the perturbation theory to quantitatively
capture the full crossover from high temperature ($T\gg \Gamma'$) to the asymptotic
non-Fermi liquid regime ($T\ll \Gamma'$), where $\Gamma'\ll\Gamma$ is the strongly
renormalized linewidth.
This strong coupling regime~\cite{ZitkoSimonPRB11} leads
to universal scaling relations describing the full crossover towards the quantum
critical state in our system.
\begin{figure}[tb]
\centering
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{Figure3_QCP11_SBScaling.pdf}
\caption{(color online) \textbf{Small detuning, the runaway flow.}
Here, we choose $\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}=10^{-4}\Gamma$.
(a) $1-g_0$ (red, diamond) and $\delta g_2$ (blue,
circle) as a function of $\Gamma T/\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}^2$.
(b) The ratio $-\delta g_2/[(1-g_0)(\rho \lambda)^2]$ as a function of $\Gamma
T/\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}^2$. Initially, the interaction corrections
dominate as one approaches the critical point, but then the system veers away
toward the insulating fixed point and the non-interacting term, $g_0$, dominates
in the end.
}
\label{fig:11SB}
\end{figure}
\subsection{Small detuning: runaway flow}
\label{sec:small}
We finally investigate intermediate-temperature scaling with
a slight detuning from the quantum critical point,
$T \ll \epsilon_d \ll \sqrt{T\Gamma}$.
In that regime, the renormalization flow approaches very close to the
conducting fixed point, but ultimately flows away from it because the transparency
is not perfectly unity. Considering first the Emery-Kivelson solution
Eq.\,(\ref{eq:g0}) in this limit, we obtain the runaway behavior from the unitary
conductance, which has the same $1/T$ temperature dependence as tunneling
through a weak single barrier \cite{KanePRB92, KomnikPRL03}:
\begin{eqnarray}
\label{eq:g0_C}
g_0&=&1-\int d\omega\frac{(\omega^2-\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}^2)^2}{(\omega^2-\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}^2)^2+\Gamma^2\omega^2}
\frac{\beta \text{e}^{\beta\omega}}{(1+\text{e}^{\beta\omega})^2} \qquad\qquad \nonumber \\
&\approx 1- & \int d\omega \frac{(\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}^2/\Gamma)^2}{\omega^2+(\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}^2/\Gamma)^2}
\frac{\beta \text{e}^{\beta\omega}}{(1+\text{e}^{\beta\omega})^2} \nonumber \\
&\approx 1-& \int d\omega \frac{(\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}^2/\Gamma)^2}{\omega^2+(\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}^2/\Gamma)^2}
\frac{\beta \text{e}^{0}}{(1+\text{e}^{0})^2}
= 1- \frac{\pi}{4}
\left( \frac{\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}^2}{\Gamma T} \right).
\end{eqnarray}
In Eq.\,(\ref{eq:g0_C}), we used in the second and third lines the conditions
$\Gamma \gg \epsilon_{\textrm{d}} \gg T$ and $T \gg \epsilon_{\textrm{d}}^2/\Gamma$,
respectively.
On the other hand, $\delta g_2$ still obeys Eq.\,(\ref{eq:g2-T}), since $\Gamma\gg
\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}$, $T$. Therefore, we have the ratio
\begin{equation}
-\frac{\delta g_2}{1-g_0}\approx
\frac{\pi^2}{2}(\rho\lambda)^2\left(\frac{T}{\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}} \right)^2,
\end{equation}
which is much smaller than $1$ for $T\ll \epsilon_{\textrm{d}}$, indicating that the
runaway flow of $1-g_0$ is not modified by the perturbation correction from the
contact interaction term.
Figure\,\ref{fig:11SB}(a) presents $1-g_0$ and $\delta g_2$ as a function of
$\Gamma T/\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}^2$ with a small detuning $\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}=10^{-4}\Gamma$ over a wide
temperature range. For very low temperature $T\sim \epsilon_{\textrm{d}}^2/\Gamma$, $1-g_0\sim
1$ showing that even a small detuning can drive the system to the insulating
critical point with a vanishing conductance. In the intermediate-temperature
regime ($10^1\lesssim \Gamma T/\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}^2\lesssim 10^3$), the condition $\Gamma\gg
\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}\gg T \gg \epsilon_{\textrm{d}}^2/\Gamma$ is satisfied. Clearly, Fig.\,\ref{fig:11SB}(b)
shows that in this temperature range $\delta g_2$ is subdominant compared to
$1-g_0$. Further increase of temperature leads to the regime $\Gamma\gg
T\gtrsim \epsilon_{\textrm{d}}$ ($10^4\lesssim \Gamma T/\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}^2\lesssim 10^7$). In this
regime, $1-g_0$ changes from $1/T$ to $T^2$ dependence and $\delta g_2$ starts
to dominate the runaway scaling as shown in Fig.\,\ref{fig:11SB}(b).
To conclude this study, we give in Table\,\ref{tb:scalings} a summary of the scalings
in the three different regimes discussed in this section. The contact
interaction controls the approach to the quantum critical point, but is strongly
irrelevant otherwise, leading to effectively single barrier scaling.
\begin{table}[tb]
\renewcommand{\arraystretch}{2.5}
\setlength{\tabcolsep}{3pt}
\begin{tabular}{|c||c|c|c|}
\hline
\text{Regime} & $g_0$ & $1-g_0$ & $-\delta g_2/(\rho\lambda)^2$ \\
\hline
$\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}\sim \Gamma\gg T$ & $\displaystyle \sim \frac{\pi^2}{3}\left(\frac{T}{\Gamma}\right)^2 \left(\frac{\Gamma}{\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}}\right)^4$ & $\sim 1$ & $\displaystyle \propto \left(\frac{T}{\Gamma}\right)^4 \left(\frac{\Gamma}{\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}}\right)^6$ \\[1.5mm]
\hline
$\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}=0$, $\Gamma \gg T$ & $\sim 1$ & $\displaystyle \sim \frac{\pi^2}{3}\left(\frac{T}{\Gamma}\right)^2$ & $\displaystyle \sim \frac{\pi^3}{8}\left(\frac{T}{\Gamma}\right)$ \\[1.5mm]
\hline
$\displaystyle \Gamma\gg\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}\gg T\gg \frac{\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}^2}{\Gamma}$ & $\sim 1$ & $\displaystyle \sim \frac{\pi}{4}\left( \frac{\epsilon_{\textrm{d}}^2}{\Gamma T}\right)$ & $\displaystyle \sim \frac{\pi^3}{8}\left(\frac{T}{\Gamma}\right)$ \\[1.5mm]
\hline
\end{tabular}
\caption{\textbf{Summary of various low-temperature scalings close to the insulating and
conducting fixed points.} The first, second, and third rows correspond to large detuning, exactly critical tuning, and small detuning (runaway flow), respectively.}
\label{tb:scalings}
\end{table}
\section{Conclusion}
In summary, we have studied spinless resonant tunneling with a large, fine-tuned circuit impedance $R=e^2/h$ and mapped it directly to resonant tunneling
between Luttinger liquids with Luttinger parameter $g=1/2$. We further mapped
the system to a resonant Majorana model in the case of symmetric coupling. In
contrast to previous studies, we retained the contact interaction between the
resonant level and the leads. Perturbation theory of the linear-response
conductance is developed up to second-order in the contact interaction. We found
that while the second-order correction does not change the single-barrier
scaling near the insulating fixed point, it does give rise to a linear
temperature dependence as the conductance approaches unity when the resonant
level is tuned to be exactly on resonance (Majorana quantum critical
point). This striking non-Fermi liquid
behavior is due to the fact that the resonant level is fractionalized into two
independent Majorana fermions, with one of them fully isolated from the rest of
the system. Further investigations could, for instance, concentrate on
incorporating the spin degree of freedom on the quantum dot, leading to a rich
interplay of Luttinger and Kondo physics.
\section*{Acknowledgments}
We thank G. Finkelstein for motivating this study. We acknowledge funding from the Fondation Nanosciences de Grenoble under RTRA contract CORTRANO, and from the US DOE, Division of Materials Sciences and Engineering, under Grant No.\,{DE-SC0005237}.
| {
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In the large temple of Benares, underneath the dome that marks the centre of the word, there are three diamond needles on a brass slab, each one cubit tall and the same thickness as a bee. At the beginning of time God placed sixty four discs of pure gold on the first needle, the widest resting on the brass and the others, getting narrower, were placed on top.
This was the sacred tower of Brahma.
From that moment, night and day, the priests began to move the discs from one needle to another, always one at a time, and always making sure that the stack followed the rule that a wider disc cannot be placed on top of a narrower disc.
When the priests finally move all of the discs to the third needle, the tower will fall and it will be the end of worlds!
This is the tale of the Tower Of Hanoi, created by Édouard Lucas under the name of M. Claus in 1883.
18,446,744,073,709,551,615 seconds (nearly 585 billion years)!
Your task is a little easier, as you can select between 2 and 8 discs (which would take the priests anywhere between 3 and 255 seconds). | {
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<html><head><title>html5 backend: boxes</title>
<script>
state = undefined;
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<script src="text.js"></script>
<script src="render.js"></script>
<script src="jquery-1.6.1.js"></script>
<script>
logger = {log: function () {}, group: function (){}, groupEnd: function(){}, error: function() {} };
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<body>
<h2>Node types:</h2>
<ul>
<li style="border: 1px black solid; margin: 10px; padding: 5px">Black: leaf</li>
<li style="border: 1px red solid; margin: 10px; padding: 5px">Red: horizontal box</li>
<li style="border: 1px #00FF00 solid; margin: 10px; padding: 5px">Green: vertical box</li>
<li style="border: 1px #F0F solid; margin: 10px; padding: 5px">Magenta: list</li>
</ul>
<h2>Output: </h2>
<div><canvas id="canvas"/></div>
<contents id="contents">
<Top>
<VBox refname="child">
<HBox refname="childs">
<Leaf refname="childs"></Leaf>
<HBox refname="childs">
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</HBox>
<Leaf refname="childs"></Leaf>
<HBox refname="childs"></HBox>
<VBox refname="childs">
<Leaf refname="childs"></Leaf>
<Leaf refname="childs"></Leaf>
<Leaf refname="childs"></Leaf>
<Leaf refname="childs"></Leaf>
<Leaf refname="childs"></Leaf>
<Leaf refname="childs"></Leaf>
<Leaf refname="childs"></Leaf>
<Leaf refname="childs"></Leaf>
<HBox refname="childs">
<Leaf refname="childs"></Leaf>
<Leaf refname="childs"></Leaf>
</HBox>
</VBox>
</HBox>
<HBox refname="childs">
<Leaf refname="childs"></Leaf>
<HBox refname="childs"></HBox>
<VBox refname="childs"></VBox>
</HBox>
<HBox refname="childs">
<Leaf refname="childs"></Leaf>
<HBox refname="childs"></HBox>
<VBox refname="childs"></VBox>
</HBox>
<HBox refname="childs">
<Leaf refname="childs"></Leaf>
<HBox refname="childs"></HBox>
<VBox refname="childs"></VBox>
</HBox>
<HBox refname="childs">some text
</HBox>
</VBox>
</Top>
</contents>
</body>
</html> | {
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'World's Most Litigious Man' suing Guinness
By ABC13
Jonathan Lee Riches' rambling lawsuit against the record-holding institution and several others is just the latest in his growing stash of outrageous court filings against everyone from New England Patriot's coach Bill Belichick to Martha Stewart.
But Riches is not alone in trying up the legal system. Sometimes the coffee is just too hot. Or the the dry cleaners lost a favorite pair of pants. Sometimes, like one Colorado inmate who hurt himself rappelling down a jail wall claimed, sheriff's officials made escaping a little too easy.
Hundreds of lawsuits are filed every day in the United States, for claims ranging from legitimate to ridiculous. A survey of 34 state court systems found 433,000 new tort cases in 2006, down from 547,000 in 1997, according to the National Center for State Courts.
A woman famously sued McDonald's in the early 1990s after she spilled scalding coffee on her legs. A jury awarded her more than $2 million, which was reduced by a judge. A Michael Jordan look-alike sued Nike and Jordan for $862 million because he found it distressing to be mistaken for the basketball star. He dropped his suit after a wave of negative news articles.
"When people bring suits they often sue for the moon," says Phillip Howard, chairman of Common Good, a legal reform coalition. "Some people will bring suits over any accident or perceived slight and the broad effect of that is that people in society go through the day looking over their shoulders."
Here are a few of the more controversial recent lawsuits.
Can Guinness Listing Cause 'Danger and Bodily Harm?'
As if finding out he was to be named the world's most litigious man by the Guinness Book of World Records wasn't bad enough, they got the tally wrong, according to federal prisoner Jonathan Lee Riches, who is now suing.
Imprisoned in Lexington, Ky., for wire fraud, Riches, aka Irving Picard, wrote in his handwritten document that he's actually filed more than 4,000 lawsuits in countless courts, not 5,500 as mentioned in a letter Riches said he got from Guinness congratulating him on his distinction.
Riches said in his lawsuit that he sent Guinness Book of World Records 10 letters declining the offer because the facts were wrong.
Now, naming Encyclopedia Britannica and the Library of Congress as two of more than a dozen co-defendants, Riches claimed he faces "iminent (sic) danger and bodily harm from the Defendant's (sic) who plan to publish me and about my life in their books without my authorization or consent."
Riches, whose above mugshot was provided to ABCNew.com by The SmokingGun, also details the injuries he's suffered as a result of his thousands of lawsuits, including "arthritis in my fingers, numbness in my wrists [and] crooked fingers."
While the federal Bureau of Prisons lists Riches potential release date as March 23, 2012, Riches wrote in his lawsuit that he could be released into a halfway house as early as next summer.
"And when I get out of prison I'm going to start a lawsuit 101 shop and teach Americans how to file prose lawsuits," he wrote before detailing his other plan to sell T-shirts with his likeness and the words "watch what you do or I'll sue you."
Hold The Pickles, or Else
Darius Dugger wanted his sandwich without onions, pickles and tomatoes.
Dugger is seeking $100,000 in damages after a Burger King franchise allegedly messed up his order, making him sick, according to the Virginian Pilot newspaper.
Dugger claims he suffered a "severe allergic reaction" to the condiments, costing him thousands of dollars in medical bills and forcing him to miss work.
His "specific request for the omission of onions, pickles and tomatoes had not been complied with," the lawsuit claims, the paper reported.
Lawyers for Dugger and the Burger King franchise did not return calls for comment.
A similar lawsuit against McDonald's was recently dismissed. Jeromy Jackson sued the fast food chain for $10 million after he said he had a severe allergic reaction to the cheese on his quarter pounder, according to the Charleston Gazette.
He claimed he was assured his burger wouldn't have any cheese. In a lawsuit filed in 2007, he alleged he "was only moments from death" by the time he reached the hospital.
Scalding Coffee Leads to Lawsuit
One of the most famous lawsuits, which became the poster child for those who advocate for reforms to lower jury verdicts, was a result of McDonald's coffee.
Stella Liebeck of Albuquerque, N.M., was severely burned by the chain's coffee in February 1992. Her lawyer argued that the hot coffee was unreasonably dangerous.
Liebeck, then 79 years old, had set a cup between her legs while sitting in a parked car. She spent a week in the hospital, and then returned a month later for skin grafts to heal the second- and third-degree burns, according to the Legal Times.
A jury awarded Liebeck more than $2 million. The judge reduced the total award to about $640,000. The two sides settled out of court for an undisclosed amount.
The $54 Million Pants
Former Washington, D.C., Administrative Judge Roy Pearson made headlines in 2007 when he sued a local dry cleaner, claiming it had lost a prized pair of pants he planned to wear on his first day on the bench in 2005. Pearson initially asked for $67 million but later reduced that to $54 million.
The bad blood between the customer and store dates back to 2002, when Pearson claimed a first pair of pants had disappeared from the dry cleaners. The owners of the dry cleaners, Jin and Soo Chung, gave Pearson a $150 check for a new pair of pants and Pearson was banned from the store, the Chungs' lawyer said.
Three years later, Pearson said he returned to Custom Cleaners and another pair of trousers went missing. It was May 2005 and Pearson was about to begin his new job as an administrative judge. He said in court filings he wanted to wear a nice outfit to his first day of work.
Pearson said he brought one pair of pants in for alterations and they disappeared -- gray trousers with what Pearson described in court papers as blue and red stripes on them. The dry cleaning bill was $10.50.
First, Pearson demanded $1,150 for a new suit. Lawyers were hired, legal wrangling ensued and eventually the Chungs offered Pearson $3,000 in compensation. Then they offered him $4,600. Finally, they offered $12,000 for the missing gray trousers with the red and blue stripes.
Citing the District of Columbia's consumer protection laws, Pearson said he was entitled to $1,500 per violation -- each day that the "Satisfaction Guaranteed" and "Same Day Service" signs were up in the store. It had been more than 1,200 days.
He multiplied each violation by three because he sued Jin and Soo Chung and their son. With an additional $1 million for emotional damages and more for legal fees, that brought Pearson to his original $67 million claim.
The trial proved nearly as dramatic and unusual as the plaintiff's claims. On the witness stand, Pearson broke down in tears while testifying about his experience with the missing trousers. Because he served as his own lawyer, Pearson wept during a question-and-answer session with himself.
In his opening statement, Pearson told the court, "Never before in recorded history have a group of defendants engaged in such misleading and unfair business practices."
The $54 Million Laptop
Perhaps Raelyn Campbell was inspired by Pearson's pricey pants.
Campbell, from Washington, D.C., sued Best Buy in late 2007 after the store allegedly lost her laptop.
Campbell said the laptop was stolen from the store, but the company misled her about its whereabouts for weeks before finally admitting that it was missing.
Best Buy offered Campbell $1,110 and a $500 gift card in compensation, which she rejected, according to a blog she devoted to the lawsuit.
The case was eventually dismissed.
Florist Reveal's Married Man's Affair
A married man sued 1-800-Flowers for $1 million in Aug. 2007 for revealing that he was cheating on his wife.
Leroy Greer said in a lawsuit filed in a federal court in Texas that he bought flowers for his girlfriend through 1-800-Flowers. He asked to keep his purchase private.
Greer said he was referred to the company's privacy policy, which states that customers can ask 1-800-Flowers not to share personal information with "third parties."
But, the lawsuit says, 1-800-Flowers sent a thank-you note to his house and his wife saw it. When she called the company, 1-800-Flowers faxed her a copy of the receipt from Greer's secret purchase.
The receipt revealed that Greer had sent another woman a dozen long-stemmed red roses, along with a note that read, "Just wanted to say that I love you and you mean the world to me!" according to court documents.
The couple was already going through what Greer's attorney described as an amicable divorce.
After learning of the affair, Greer's wife asked for a $300,000 divorce settlement in addition to child support, said Kennitra Foote, Greer's attorney.
"That thank-you note is going to cost him money," Foote said.
Greer asked for $1 million for breach of contract and deceptive trade practices.
A 1-800-Flowers spokesman said the company does not comment on pending litigation. In a statement, spokesman Steven Jarmon said, "We take all matters relating to our customers seriously; however, we are not responsible for an individual's personal conduct."
Newspaper Reader Sues Over Layoffs
When newspaper reader Keith Hempstead found out that the Raleigh News & Observer was cutting its staff and its coverage, he didn't just get mad. He filed a lawsuit.
Hempstead, a real estate lawyer in Durham, N.C. and former newspaper reporter, claimed that the paper cheated him and other subscribers by changing its coverage after they signed up for service.
"I'm not doing it out of spite, I'm doing it because I still love the newspaper," Hempstead said last year.
His suit complained that fewer sections, thinner newspapers, and fewer newsroom staff are "changes that will substantially reduce the quality to what it is currently."
"I wanted to get the newspaper's attention," said Hempstead, "because I knew canceling my subscription wasn't going to hurt them."
The publisher of The News & Observer, Orage Quarles, dismissed the validity of the lawsuit.
"My response is pretty simple," Quarles said in an e-mail sent last year to ABC News. "We think it's a frivolous lawsuit and believe the judge will see it that way too."
Inmate Says It's Too Easy to Escape Jail
Scott Anthony Gomez apparently found it a little too easy to escape from the Pueblo County jail.
He escaped once in 2006. When he was caught, he warned prison officials that "there were many ways to get out of the facility," according to the Los Angeles Times.
When he set out to escape again, he fell as he tried to rappel down the side of the building using bedsheets.
He sued the local sheriff, saying authorities caused his injuries by making it too easy to escape.
"Defendants . . . did next to nothing to ensure that the jail was secure and the plaintiff could not escape," says Gomez's lawsuit, according to the Times.
Last year, a judge ordered him to pay $66,000 in restitution to Pueblo County for costs associated with his two escapes, according to the Pueblo Chieftan newspaper.
A Lawyer's 'Cruel' Questions
A New Jersey couple that was suing a doctor for medical malpractice added an unusual defendant: They sued the doctor's lawyer for asking what they call "inhumane" questions during a deposition.
Andrew and Phyllis Rabinowitz claimed in court papers filed in July 2007 Judith Wahrenberger caused them emotional distress by asking during a deposition if Phyllis could have been involved in the death of their infant daughter.
"This lawyer, out of nothing more than malice and a black-hearted attempt to hurt these people, had the inhumane desire to ask whether they were involved in the death of their child," said Bruce Nagel, the couple's lawyer in both their medical malpractice lawsuit and their suit against Wahrenberger. "There's got to be limits in everything. This was beyond indecent."
Wahenberger's attorney called the suit "frivolous" and said he would move to dismiss it. A leading legal ethics expert also said the case was unlikely to succeed.
That Basketball Star Looks Like Me
Allen Heckard, of Portland, Ore., apparently found his resemblance to basketball superstar Michael Jordan a little "distressing."
Heckard sued Jordan and Nike co-founder Phil Knight in 2006 for $862 million "for defamation and permanent injury," because he found it "distressing" to look like and be confused with Jordan.
"I'm constantly being accused of looking like Michael, and it makes it very uncomfortable for me," Heckard said at the time, according to the Chicago Tribune.
Heckard, then 51, is 6 inches shorter than Jordan, who was 43 at the time the suit was filed.
Asked how he decided to sue for $862 million, Heckard reportedly said, "Well, you figure with my age and you multiply that times seven and, ah, then I turn around and, ah, I figure that's what it all boils down to."
He dropped the suit but won the 2006 "Stella Award" given by a Web site with the same name. The award is named after the McDonald's coffee case, for most ridiculous lawsuit that year.
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"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaCommonCrawl"
} | 2,407 |
Opan Sat (), (* 13. červen 1987 Čadan Sovětský svaz) je reprezentant Ruska ve volném stylu (zápas). Původem je Tuvin.
Sportovní kariéra
Na olympijské hry v roce 2012 se do ruského týmu nevešel na úkor Besika Kuduchova.
Výsledky
Reference
Externí odkazy
Sportovní výsledky
Ruští zápasníci
Narození v roce 1987
Žijící lidé
Muži
Narození 13. června
Juniorští mistři světa v zápasu | {
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Tuscaloosa Academy Slams Valiant Cross Academy 48-21
Dom Taylor
Dom Taylor Published: September 5, 2020
After a low scoring performance from their offense in week one, the Tuscaloosa Academy Knights (1-1, 1-0) exploded with 48 points and a win against the Warriors from Valiant Cross Academy (1-2, 0-1).
Leading the charge for the Knights was QB No. 10 Whitt Winfield, who had a career night with 225 yards passing and five touchdowns.
QB #10 Whitt Winfield stands on the sidelines after his 5 touchdown performance.
"We missed some open guys last week but (Whitt) found those guys tonight," Knights Head Coach Todd Bradford said. "I thought he did a better job of stepping up in the pocket and making throws, that's one of those things we talked about getting better at this week and hopefully we can get even better next week too."
The prolific night for Tuscaloosa Academy began midway through the 1st quarter when Winfield connected with wide receiver No.11 Jack Standeffer for a 27-yd touchdown with a missed PAT. The score would stay 6-0 until the end of the first quarter.
QB No. 1 Antavious Jackson for Valiant Cross would be picked off by No. 6 Wilson King of Tuscaloosa Academy, who then returned it to the 40-yard line.
The Knights capitalized on the turnover with a 6-yard rushing touchdown by No. 8 Tyler McNeal, who added a total 120 yards and two touchdowns on the ground with a 14 yard receiving touchdown. McNeal, the son of former Alabama offensive lineman Kareem McNeal, demonstrated why he is a weapon for the Knights offense.
RB #8 Tyler McNeal watches the defense in between drives.
"He is really explosive, as a parent it's really exciting to watch and see what the potential could be," Kareem McNeal said. "He would like to eventually go to division one, for now we are encouraging him to take care of his school work and work hard on the field and everything will take care of itself. "
With the score 14-0, Winfield and the Knights began to catch fire, scoring three touchdowns in the last six minutes of the second quarter. Winfield connected on touchdown passes of 14, 36, and 75 yards to put the game on blowout alert. Although Valiant Cross's Jackson completed a 61-yard touchdown pass to wide receiver No. 11 Corey Brown to end the half, the Warriors were still down to the tune of 34-7.
Tuscaloosa Academy would pick up right where they left off to begin the third, with Winfield throwing his fifth touchdown pass of the night to No. 12 Bo Abston, also Abston's second receiving touchdown. A failed 2-point play would leave the score at 40-7 with 7:57 left in the third quarter.
The Knights capped off their evening of scoring with a 71-yard rushing touchdown straight up the middle by McNeal with 5:06 left in the third, making a 48-7 deficit for the Warriors.
Valiant Cross would make some personnel changes, moving Jackson to running back and bringing in No. 2 Savion German to play QB. The switch seemed to work, as German hit No. 14 Quintavious Tyus in stride on a long touchdown and Jackson added a 2-yard rushing score to bring the game to 48-21. In the end it was too little too late for the Warriors; that would be the final score from Tuscaloosa Academy.
"It's really about mindset, bringing that intensity at practice this next week," Bradford said. "This next game is one thats easy to get up for for our guys, they want another crack at Bessemer."
The Valiant Cross Warriors (1-2) will head to Glenwood of Phenix City next weekend, while the Tuscaloosa Academy Knights (1-1) now prepare for a home rivalry showdown with Bessemer Academy.
Top Recruits in the State of Alabama
Filed Under: AHSAA, High School Football, Tuscaloosa Academy Football, Tuscaloosa Academy Knights
Categories: Local News, Tuscaloosa Events
How West Alabama Teams Fared in Round One of the State Playoffs
Alabama High School Makes Playoffs Despite Forfeiting Four Games
Pickens County Storms Marion County In Final Regular Season Game
Green Wave Drowns Out Hale County Senior Night
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The Central Falcons Defeat the Bessemer City Purple Tigers
Hillcrest Routes Paul W. Bryant to Remain Unbeaten.
Thompson Trounces Tuscaloosa County
Northside Survives Late Surge by Cordova | {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaCommonCrawl"
} | 8,712 |
{"url":"https:\/\/docs.datacentral.org.au\/galah\/dr1\/overview\/","text":"# Documentation\n\nFind information, examples, FAQs and extensive descriptions of the data, curated by the survey teams.\n\n#### GALAH\n\nThe Galactic Archaeology with HERMES survey is collecting stellar parameters and abundances for one million stars in the Milky Way. GALAH yields a comprehensive view of the formation & evolution of the Galaxy.\nSept. 9, 2016 by J. Simpson\nDec. 14, 2020, 10:19 p.m. J. Simpson\n\nGALAH DR1\n\n## This release is deprecated and superseded byData Releases 2 and3.\n\n### The GALAH survey published our first data release on 9 September 2016. It contains data for 9860 stars that were likely to be included in the first Gaia data release as part of its TGAS data set.\n\nThis release is described in Martell et al (2016) and contains one main table. For completeness, this table can be accessed using the Data Central query services with the table name galah_dr1.Catalogue using the following command.\n\nSELECT TOP 100\n*\nFROM galah_dr1.Catalogue\nSept. 9, 2016 by J. Simpson\nDec. 14, 2020, 10:19 p.m. J. Simpson","date":"2022-07-02 02:05:16","metadata":"{\"extraction_info\": {\"found_math\": true, \"script_math_tex\": 0, \"script_math_asciimath\": 0, \"math_annotations\": 0, \"math_alttext\": 0, \"mathml\": 0, \"mathjax_tag\": 0, \"mathjax_inline_tex\": 0, \"mathjax_display_tex\": 0, \"mathjax_asciimath\": 1, \"img_math\": 0, \"codecogs_latex\": 0, \"wp_latex\": 0, \"mimetex.cgi\": 0, \"\/images\/math\/codecogs\": 0, \"mathtex.cgi\": 0, \"katex\": 0, \"math-container\": 0, \"wp-katex-eq\": 0, \"align\": 0, \"equation\": 0, \"x-ck12\": 0, \"texerror\": 0, \"math_score\": 0.4090190529823303, \"perplexity\": 5029.433112503773}, \"config\": {\"markdown_headings\": true, \"markdown_code\": true, \"boilerplate_config\": {\"ratio_threshold\": 0.18, \"absolute_threshold\": 10, \"end_threshold\": 15, \"enable\": true}, \"remove_buttons\": true, \"remove_image_figures\": true, \"remove_link_clusters\": true, \"table_config\": {\"min_rows\": 2, \"min_cols\": 3, \"format\": \"plain\"}, \"remove_chinese\": true, \"remove_edit_buttons\": true, \"extract_latex\": true}, \"warc_path\": \"s3:\/\/commoncrawl\/crawl-data\/CC-MAIN-2022-27\/segments\/1656103983398.56\/warc\/CC-MAIN-20220702010252-20220702040252-00297.warc.gz\"}"} | null | null |
\section{minted}
文書内にコードサンプルを表示したいときの環境です。
コンパイルする際には\texttt{-shell-escape}オプションが必要です。
(\mintinline{shell}{$ latexmk -pvc -shell-escape})
\begin{listing}[H]
\begin{minted}[linenos=true,showspaces]{python}
from dataclasses import dataclass
from pathlib import Path
@dataclass
class Config:
path
def __post_init__(self):
self.path = Path(self.path)
if __name__ == "__main__":
c = Config("config.toml")
\end{minted}
\caption{Pythonのサンプル}
\end{listing}
\begin{listing}[H]
\begin{minted}{latex}
\documentclass{jlreq}
\usepackage{minted}
\begin{document}
\end{document}
\end{minted}
\caption{LaTeXのサンプル}
\end{listing}
| {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaGithub"
} | 2,818 |
\section{Overview of Tutorial}
Ramsey theory and forcing are deeply interconnected in a multitude of various ways.
At the RIMS Conference on Infinite Combinatorics and Forcing Theory,
the author gave a series of three tutorials on {\em Ramsey theory in forcing}.
These tutorials focused on the following implications between forcing and Ramsey theory:
\begin{enumerate}
\item
Forcings adding ultrafilters satisfying weak partition relations, which in turn motivate new topological Ramsey spaces and canonical equivalence relations on barriers;
\item
Applications of Ramsey theory to
obtain the precise Rudin-Keisler and Tukey structures below these forced ultrafilters;
\item
Ramsey theory motivating new forcings and associated ultrafilters;
\item
Forcing to obtain new Ramsey theorems for trees;
\item
Applications of new Ramsey theorems for trees to obtain Ramsey theorems for homogeneous relational structures.
\end{enumerate}
The first two tutorials focused on areas (1) - (3).
We presented work from
\cite{Dobrinen/Todorcevic14}, \cite{Dobrinen/Todorcevic15} \cite{Dobrinen/Mijares/Trujillo14},
\cite{DobrinenJSL15},
\cite{DobrinenJML16},
and \cite{DobrinenCreaturetRs15},
in which
dense subsets of forcings generating ultrafilters satisfying some weak partition properties
were shown to
form topological Ramsey spaces.
Having obtained
the canonical equivalence relations on fronts for these topological Ramsey spaces,
they may be applied to obtain the precise
initial
Rudin-Keisler and Tukey structures.
An exposition of this work has already appeared in \cite{DobrinenSEALS17}.
The third tutorial concentrated on
areas (4) and (5).
We focused particularly on the Halpern-\Lauchli\ Theorem and variations for strong trees.
Extensions and analogues of this theorem have found applications in homogeneous relational structures.
The majority of this article will concentrate
on Ramsey theorems for trees due to (in historical order) Halpern-\Lauchli\ \cite{Halpern/Lauchli66}; Milliken \cite{Milliken81}; Shelah \cite{Shelah91};
\Dzamonja, Larson, and Mitchell \cite{Dzamonja/Larson/MitchellQ09}; Dobrinen and Hathaway \cite{Dobrinen/Hathaway16}; Dobrinen \cite{DobrinenH_317}; and very recently Zhang \cite{Zhang17}.
These theorems have important applications to finding
big Ramsey degrees for homogeneous structures.
We say that an infinite structure $\mathcal{S}$ has {\em finite big Ramsey degrees} if for each finite substructure $\F$ of $\mathcal{S}$
there is some finite number $n(\F)$ such that for any coloring of all copies of $\F$ in $\mathcal{S}$ into finitely many colors, there is a substructure $\mathcal{S}'$ if $\mathcal{S}$ which is isomorphic to $\mathcal{S}$ and such that all copies of $\F$ in $\mathcal{S}'$ take no more than $n(\F)$ colors.
The Halpern-\Lauchli\ and Milliken Theorems, and other related Ramsey theorems on trees, have been instrumental in proving finite big Ramsey degrees for certain homogeneous relational structures.
Section \ref{sec.HL}
contains Harrington's forcing proof of the Halpern-\Lauchli\ Theorem.
This is then applied to obtain Milliken's Theorem for strong subtrees.
Applications of Milliken's theorem to
obtain finite big Ramsey degrees are shown in Section \ref{sec.Sauer}.
There, we provide the
main ideas of how Sauer applied Milliken's Theorem to prove that
the random graph on countably many vertices
has finite big Ramsey degrees in \cite{Sauer06}.
Then we briefly cover applications to Devlin's work in \cite{DevlinThesis} on
finite subsets of the rationals,
and Laver's work in \cite{Laver84} on
finite products of the rationals.
In another vein, proving whether or not homogeneous relational structures omitting copies of a certain finite structure have finite big Ramsey degrees has been an elusive endeavor until recently.
In \cite{DobrinenH_317}, the author used forcing to prove the needed analogues of Milliken's Theorem and applied them to prove the universal triangle-free graph
has finite big Ramsey degrees.
The main ideas in that paper are covered in Section \ref{sec.H_3}.
The final Section \ref{sec.measurable}
addresses analogues of the Halpern-\Lauchli\ Theorem for trees of uncountable height.
The first such theorem, due to Shelah \cite{Shelah91} (strengthened in \cite{Dzamonja/Larson/MitchellQ09})
considers finite antichains in one tree of measurable height.
This
was applied by
\Dzamonja, Larson, and Mitchell to prove the consistency of a measurable cardinal $\kappa$
and the analogue of
Devlin's result for the
$\kappa$-rationals in \cite{Dzamonja/Larson/MitchellQ09};
and that the $\kappa$-Rado graph
has finite big Ramsey degrees in \cite{Dzamonja/Larson/MitchellRado09}.
Recent work of Hathaway and the author in \cite{Dobrinen/Hathaway16} considers more than one tree and implications for various uncountable cardinals.
We conclude the paper with very recent results of Zhang in \cite{Zhang17} obtaining the analogue of Laver's result at a measurable cardinal.
The existence of finite big Ramsey degrees has been of interest for some time to those studying homogeneous structures.
In addition to those results considered in this paper,
big Ramsey degrees have been investigated in the context of ultrametric spaces in \cite{NVT08}.
A recent connection between finite big Ramsey degrees and topological dynamics
has been made by Zucker in \cite{Zucker17}.
Any future progress on finite big Ramsey degrees will have implications for topological dynamics.
The author would like to thank Timothy Trujillo for creating most of the diagrams used in the tutorials, and the most complex ones included here.
\section{The Halpern-\Lauchli\ and Milliken Theorems}\label{sec.HL}
Ramsey theory on trees is a powerful tool for investigations into several branches of mathematics.
The Halpern-\Lauchli\ Theorem was originally proved as a main technical lemma enabling a later proof
of Halpern and Lev\'{y}
that the Boolean prime ideal theorem is strictly weaker than the Axiom of Choice, assuming the ZF axioms (see \cite{Halpern/Levy71}).
Many variations of this theorem have been proved.
We will
concentrate on
the strong tree version of the Halpern-\Lauchli\ Theorem, referring the interested reader to Chapter 3 in \cite{TodorcevicBK10} for a compendium of other variants.
An extension due to Milliken, which is a Ramsey theorem on strong trees, has found numerous applications finding precise structural properties of homogeneous structures, such as the Rado graph and the rational numbers, in terms of Ramsey degrees for colorings of finite substructures.
This will be presented in the second part of this section.
Several proofs of the Halpern-\Lauchli\ Theorem are available in the literature.
A proof using the technique of forcing was discovered by Harrington, and is regarded as providing the most insight.
It was known to a handful of set theorists for several decades.
His proof uses a which satisfies the following partition relation for colorings of
subsets of size $2d$
into countably many colors, and uses Cohen forcing to add many paths through each of the trees.
\begin{defn}\label{defn.arrownotation}
Given cardinals $d,\sigma,\kappa,\lambda$,
\begin{equation}
\lambda\ra(\kappa)^d_{\sigma}
\end{equation}
means that for each coloring of $[\lambda]^d$ into $\sigma$ many colors,
there is a subset $X$ of $\lambda$ such that $|X|=\kappa$ and all members of $[X]^d$ have the same color.
\end{defn}
The following is a ZFC result guaranteeing cardinals large enough to have the Ramsey property for colorings into infinitely many colors.
\begin{thm}[\Erdos-Rado]\label{thm.ER}
For $r<\om$ and $\mu$ an infinite cardinal,
$$
\beth_r(\mu)^+\ra(\mu^+)_{\mu}^{r+1}.
$$
\end{thm}
The book
\cite{Farah/TodorcevicBK} of Farah and Todorcevic contains a forcing proof of the Halpern-\Lauchli\ Theorem.
The proof there is a
modified version of Harrington's original proof.
It uses a cardinal satisfying the weaker partition
relation $\kappa\ra(\aleph_0)^d_{2}$, which is satisfied by the cardinal
$\beth^+_{d-1}$.
This is important if one is interested in obtaining the theorem from weaker assumptions, and was
instrumental
in motivating the main result in
\cite{Dobrinen/Hathaway16} which is presented in Section \ref{sec.measurable}.
One could conceivably recover Harrington's original argument from Shelah's proof of the Halpern-\Lauchli\ Theorem at a measurable cardinal (see \cite{Shelah91}).
However, his proof is more complex than simply lifting Harrington's argument to a measurable cardinal, as he obtiains a stronger version, but only for one tree (see Section \ref{sec.measurable}).
Thus, we present here the simplest version of Harrington's forcing proof, filling a hole in the literature at present.
This version was outlined to the author in 2011 by Richard Laver, and the author has filled in the gaps.
A {\em tree} on $\om^{<\om}$ is
a subset $T\sse \om^{\om}$ which is closed under meets.
Thus, in this article, a tree is not necessarily closed under initial segments.
We let
$\widehat{T}$ denote the set of all initial segments of members of $T$;
thus, $\widehat{T}=\{s\in\om^{<\om}:\exists t\in T(s\sse t)\}$.
Given any tree $T\sse\om^{<\om}$ and a node $t\in T$,
let $\spl_T(t)$ denote the set of all immediate successors of $t$ in $\widehat{T}$;
thus, $\spl_T(t)=\{u\in \widehat{T}: u\contains t$ and $|u|=|t|+1\}$.
Notice that the nodes in $\spl_T(t)$ are not necessarily nodes in $T$.
For a tree $T\sse 2^{<\om}$ and $n<\om$, let $T(n)$ denote $T\cap 2^n$; thus, $T(n)=\{t\in T:|t|=n\}$.
A set $X\sse T$ is a {\em level set} if all nodes in $X$ have the same length.
Thus, $X\sse T$ is a level set if $X\sse T(n)$ for some $n<\om$.
Let $T\sse \om^{<\om}$ be a finitely branching tree with no terminal nodes such that $\hat{T}=T$, and each node in $T$ splits into at least two immediate successors.
A subtree $S\sse T$ is an infinite
{\em strong subtree of $T$} if there is an infinite set $L\sse\om$ of levels such that
\begin{enumerate}
\item
$S=\bigcup_{l\in L}\{s\in S:|s|=l\}$;
\item
for each node $s\in S$,
$s$ splits in $S$ if and only if $|s|\in L$;
\item
if $|s|\in L$, then $\spl_S(s)=\spl_T(s)$.
\end{enumerate}
$S$ is a {\em finite strong subtree} of $T$ if there is a finite set of levels $L$ such that (1) holds, and every non-maximal node in $S$ at a level in $L$ splits maximally in $T$.
See Figures 1 and 2 for examples of finite strong trees isomorphic to $2^{\le 2}$, as determined by the darkened nodes.
\begin{figure}
\begin{tikzpicture}[grow'=up,scale=.6]
\tikzstyle{level 1}=[sibling distance=4in]
\tikzstyle{level 2}=[sibling distance=2in]
\tikzstyle{level 3}=[sibling distance=1in]
\tikzstyle{level 4}=[sibling distance=0.5in]
\tikzstyle{level 5}=[sibling distance=0.2in]
\node {} coordinate (t9)
child{coordinate (t0)
child{coordinate (t00)
child{coordinate (t000)
child {coordinate(t0000)
child{coordinate(t00000) edge from parent[color=black] }
child{coordinate(t00001)}}
child {coordinate(t0001) edge from parent[color=black]
child {coordinate(t00010)}
child{coordinate(t00011)}}}
child{ coordinate(t001)
child{ coordinate(t0010)
child{ coordinate(t00100)}
child{ coordinate(t00101) edge from parent[color=black] }}
child{ coordinate(t0011) edge from parent[color=black]
child{ coordinate(t00110)}
child{ coordinate(t00111)}}}}
child{ coordinate(t01) edge from parent[color=black]
child{ coordinate(t010)
child{ coordinate(t0100)
child{ coordinate(t01000)}
child{ coordinate(t01001)}}
child{ coordinate(t0101)
child{ coordinate(t01010)}
child{ coordinate(t01011)}}}
child{ coordinate(t011)
child{ coordinate(t0110)
child{ coordinate(t01100)}
child{ coordinate(t01101)}}
child{ coordinate(t0111)
child { coordinate(t01110)}
child{ coordinate(t01111)}}}}}
child{ coordinate(t1)
child{ coordinate(t10)
child{ coordinate(t100)
child{ coordinate(t1000) edge from parent[color=black]
child{ coordinate(t10000)}
child{ coordinate(t10001)}}
child{ coordinate(t1001)
child{ coordinate(t10010)}
child{ coordinate(t10011) edge from parent[color=black] }}}
child{ coordinate(t101)
child{ coordinate(t1010) edge from parent[color=black]
child{ coordinate(t10100) }
child{ coordinate(t10101)}}
child{ coordinate(t1011)
child{ coordinate(t10110) edge from parent[color=black] }
child{ coordinate(t10111)}}}}
child{ coordinate(t11) edge from parent[color=black]
child{ coordinate(t110)
child{ coordinate(t1100)
child{ coordinate(t11000)}
child{ coordinate(t11001)}}
child{ coordinate(t1101)
child{ coordinate(t11010)}
child{ coordinate(t11011)}}}
child{ coordinate(t111)
child{ coordinate(t1110)
child{ coordinate(t11100)}
child{ coordinate(t11101)}}
child{ coordinate(t1111)
child{ coordinate(t11110)}
child{ coordinate(t11111)}}}} };
\node[left] at (t0) {$0$};
\node[left] at (t00) {$00$};
\node[left] at (t000) {$000$};
\node[left] at (t001) {$001$};
\node[left] at (t01) {$01$};
\node[left] at (t010) {$010$};
\node[left] at (t011) {$011$};
\node[right] at (t1) {$1$};
\node[right] at (t10) {$10$};
\node[right] at (t100) {$100$};
\node[right] at (t101) {$101$};
\node[right] at (t11) {$11$};
\node[right] at (t110) {$110$};
\node[right] at (t111) {$111$};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=6pt] at (t9) {};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=6pt] at (t00) {};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=6pt] at (t00001) {};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=6pt] at (t00100) {};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=6pt] at (t10010) {};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=6pt] at (t10) {};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=6pt] at (t10111) {};
\end{tikzpicture}
\caption{A strong tree isomorphic to $2^{\le 2}$}
\end{figure}
\begin{figure}
\begin{tikzpicture}[grow'=up,scale=.6]
\tikzstyle{level 1}=[sibling distance=4in]
\tikzstyle{level 2}=[sibling distance=2in]
\tikzstyle{level 3}=[sibling distance=1in]
\tikzstyle{level 4}=[sibling distance=0.5in]
\tikzstyle{level 5}=[sibling distance=0.2in]
\node {} coordinate (t9)
child{coordinate (t0)
child{coordinate (t00)
child{coordinate (t000) edge from parent[color=black]
child {coordinate(t0000)
child{coordinate(t00000)}
child{coordinate(t00001)}}
child {coordinate(t0001)
child {coordinate(t00010)}
child{coordinate(t00011)}}}
child{ coordinate(t001)
child{ coordinate(t0010)
child{ coordinate(t00100)}
child{ coordinate(t00101) edge from parent[color=black] }}
child{ coordinate(t0011)
child{ coordinate(t00110)}
child{ coordinate(t00111)edge from parent[color=black] }}}}
child{ coordinate(t01)
child{ coordinate(t010) edge from parent[color=black]
child{ coordinate(t0100)
child{ coordinate(t01000)}
child{ coordinate(t01001)}}
child{ coordinate(t0101)
child{ coordinate(t01010)}
child{ coordinate(t01011)}}}
child{ coordinate(t011)
child{ coordinate(t0110)
child{ coordinate(t01100)}
child{ coordinate(t01101)edge from parent[color=black] }}
child{ coordinate(t0111)
child { coordinate(t01110) edge from parent[color=black] }
child{ coordinate(t01111)}}}}}
child{ coordinate(t1)
child{ coordinate(t10)
child{ coordinate(t100)
child{ coordinate(t1000)
child{ coordinate(t10000)}
child{ coordinate(t10001)}}
child{ coordinate(t1001)
child{ coordinate(t10010)}
child{ coordinate(t10011)}}}
child{ coordinate(t101)
child{ coordinate(t1010)
child{ coordinate(t10100)}
child{ coordinate(t10101)}}
child{ coordinate(t1011)
child{ coordinate(t10110)}
child{ coordinate(t10111)}}}}
child{ coordinate(t11)
child{ coordinate(t110)
child{ coordinate(t1100)
child{ coordinate(t11000)}
child{ coordinate(t11001)}}
child{ coordinate(t1101)
child{ coordinate(t11010)}
child{ coordinate(t11011)}}}
child{ coordinate(t111)
child{ coordinate(t1110)
child{ coordinate(t11100)}
child{ coordinate(t11101)}}
child{ coordinate(t1111)
child{ coordinate(t11110)}
child{ coordinate(t11111)}}}} };
\node[left] at (t0) {$0$};
\node[left] at (t00) {$00$};
\node[left] at (t000) {$000$};
\node[left] at (t001) {$001$};
\node[left] at (t01) {$01$};
\node[left] at (t010) {$010$};
\node[left] at (t011) {$011$};
\node[right] at (t1) {$1$};
\node[right] at (t10) {$10$};
\node[right] at (t100) {$100$};
\node[right] at (t101) {$101$};
\node[right] at (t11) {$11$};
\node[right] at (t110) {$110$};
\node[right] at (t111) {$111$};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=6pt] at (t0) {};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=6pt] at (t001) {};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=6pt] at (t00100) {};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=6pt] at (t00110) {};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=6pt] at (t011) {};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=6pt] at (t01100) {};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=6pt] at (t01111) {};
\end{tikzpicture}
\caption{Another strong tree isomorphic to $2^{\le 2}$}
\end{figure}
We now present Harrington's proof of the Halpern-\Lauchli\ Theorem, as outlined by Laver and filled in by the author.
Although the
proof uses the set-theoretic technique of forcing,
the whole construction takes place in the original model of ZFC, not some generic extension.
The forcing should be thought of as conducting an unbounded search for a finite object, namely the next level set where homogeneity is attained.
\begin{thm}[Halpern-\Lauchli]\label{thm.matrixHL}
Let $1< d<\om$ and let $T_i\sse\om^{<\om}$ be finitely branching trees such that $\widehat{T}_i= T_i$.
Let
\begin{equation}
c:\bigcup_{n<\om}\prod_{i<d} T_i(n)\ra 2
\end{equation}
be given.
Then there is an infinite set of levels $L\sse \om$ and strong subtrees $S_i\sse T_i$ each with branching nodes exactly at the levels in $L$
such that $c$ is monochromatic on
\begin{equation}
\bigcup_{n\in L}\prod_{i<d} S_i(n).
\end{equation}
\end{thm}
\begin{proof}
Let
$c:\bigcup_{n<\om}\prod_{i<d} T_i(n) \ra 2$
be given.
Let $\kappa=\beth_{2d}$.
The following forcing notion $\bP$ will add $\kappa$ many paths through each $T_i$, $i\in d$.
$\bP$ is the set of conditions $p$ such that
$p$ is a function
of the form
\begin{equation}
p: d\times\vec{\delta}_p\ra \bigcup_{i<d} T_i(l_p)
\end{equation}
where
\begin{enumerate}
\item[(i)]
$\vec{\delta}_p\in[\kappa]^{<\om}$;
\item[(ii)]
$l_p<\om$; and
\item [(iii)]
for each $i<d$,
$\{p(i,\delta) : \delta\in \vec{\delta}_p\}\sse T_i( l_p)$.
\end{enumerate}
The partial ordering on $\bP$ is simply inclusion:
$q\le p$ if and only if
$l_q\ge l_p$, $\vec\delta_q\contains \vec\delta_p$,
and for each $(i,\delta)\in d\times \vec\delta_p$,
$q(i,\delta)\contains p(i,\delta)$.
$\bP$ adds $\kappa$ branches through each of tree $T_i$, $i<d$.
For each $i<d$ and $\al<\kappa$,
let $\dot{b}_{i,\al}$ denote the $\al$-th generic branch through $T_i$.
Thus,
\begin{equation}
\dot{b}_{i,\al}=\{\lgl p(i,\al),p\rgl :p\in \bP,\ \mathrm{and}\ (i,\al)\in\dom(p)\}.
\end{equation}
Note that for each $p\in \bP$ with $(i,\al)\in\dom(p)$, $p$ forces that $\dot{b}_{i,\al}\re l_p= p(i,\al)$.
\begin{rem}
$(\bP,\le)$ is just a fancy form of adding $\kappa$ many Cohen reals, where
we add $d\times\kappa$ many Cohen reals, and the conditions are
homogenized over the levels of trees in the ranges of conditions and over the finite set of ordinals indexing the generic branches.
\end{rem}
Let $\dot{\mathcal{U}}$ be a $\bP$-name for a non-principal ultrafilter on $\om$.
To ease notation, we shall write sets $\{\al_i:i< d\}$ in $[\kappa]^d$ as vectors $\vec{\al}=\lgl \al_0,\dots,\al_{d-1}\rgl$ in strictly increasing order.
For $\vec{\al}=\lgl\al_0,\dots,\al_{d-1}\rgl\in[\kappa]^d$,
rather than writing out
$\lgl \dot{b}_{0,\al_0},\dots, \dot{b}_{d-1,\al_{d-1}}\rgl$
each time we wish to refer to these generic branches,
we shall simply
\begin{equation}
\mathrm{let\ \ }\dot{b}_{\vec{\al}}\mathrm{\ \ denote\ \ }
\lgl \dot{b}_{0,\al_0},\dots, \dot{b}_{d-1,\al_{d-1}}\rgl.
\end{equation}
For any $l<\om$,
\begin{equation}
\mathrm{\ let\ \ }\dot{b}_{\vec\al}\re l
\mathrm{\ \ denote \ \ }
\{\dot{b}_{i,\al_i}\re l:i<d\}.
\end{equation}
The goal now is to find
infinite pairwise disjoint sets $K'_i\sse \kappa$, $i<d$,
and a set of conditions $\{p_{\vec\al}:\vec\al\in \prod_{i<d}K_i'\}$ which are compatible,
have the same images in $T$,
and such that for some fixed $\varepsilon^*$,
for each $\vec\al\in\prod_{i<d}K_i'$,
$p_{\vec\al}$ forces
$c(\dot{b}_{\vec\al}\re l)=\varepsilon^*$ for ultrafilter $\dot{\mathcal{U}}$ many $l$.
Moreover, we will find nodes $t^*_i$, $i\le d$, such that for each $\vec\al\in\prod_{i<d}K_i'$,
$p_{\vec\al}(i,\al_i)=t^*_i$.
These will serve as the basis for the process of building the strong subtrees $S_i\sse T_i$ on which $c$ is monochromatic.
For each $\vec\al\in[\kappa]^d$,
choose a condition $p_{\vec{\al}}\in\bP$ such that
\begin{enumerate}
\item
$\vec{\al}\sse\vec{\delta}_{p_{\vec\al}}$;
\item
$p_{\vec{\al}}\forces$ ``There is an $\varepsilon\in 2$ such that
$c(\dot{b}_{\vec{\al}}\re l)=\varepsilon$
for $\dot{\mathcal{U}}$ many $l$";
\item
$p_{\vec{\al}}$ decides a value for $\varepsilon$, label it $\varepsilon_{\vec{\al}}$; and
\item
$c(\{p_{\vec\al}(i,\al_i):i< d\})=\varepsilon_{\vec{\al}}$.
\end{enumerate}
Such conditions $p_{\vec\al}$ may be obtained as follows.
Given $\vec\al\in[\kappa]^d$,
take $p_{\vec\al}^1$ to be any condition such that $\vec\al\sse\vec{\delta}_{p_{\vec\al}^1}$.
Since $\bP$ forces $\dot{\mathcal{U}}$ to be an ultrafilter on $\om$, there is a condition
$p_{\vec\al}^2\le p_{\vec\al}^1$ such that
$p_{\vec\al}^2$ forces that $c(\dot{b}_{\vec\al}\re l)$ is the same color for $\dot{\mathcal{U}}$ many $l$.
Furthermore, there must be a stronger
condition deciding which of the colors
$c(\dot{b}_{\vec\al}\re l)$ takes on $\dot{\mathcal{U}}$ many levels $l$.
Let $p_{\vec\al}^3\le p_{\vec\al}^2$ be a condition which decides this color, and let $\varepsilon_{\vec\al}$ denote that color.
Finally, since $p_{\vec\al}^3$ forces that for $\dot{\mathcal{U}}$ many $l$ the color
$c(\dot{b}_{\vec\al}\re l)$
will equal $\varepsilon_{\vec{\al}}$,
there is some $p_{\vec\al}^4\le p_{\vec\al}^3$ which decides some level $l$ so that
$c(\dot{b}_{\vec\al}\re l)=\varepsilon_{\vec{\al}}$.
If $l_{p_{\vec\al}^4}<l$,
let $p_{\vec\al}$ be any member of $\bP$ such that
$p_{\vec\al}\le p_{\vec\al}^4$ and $l_{p_{\vec\al}}=l$.
If $l_{p_{\vec\al}^4}\ge l$,
let $p_{\vec\al}=\{((i,\delta), p_{\vec\al}^4(i,\delta)\re l):(i,\delta)\in d\times\vec\delta_{p_{\vec\al}^4}\}$,
the truncation of $p_{\vec\al}^4$ to images that have length $l$.
The $p_{\vec\al}$ forces that $\dot{b}_{\vec\al}\re l=\{p_{\vec\al}(i,\al_i):i< d\}$, and hence
$p_{\vec\al}$ forces that
$c(\{p_{\vec\al}(i,\al_i):i< d\})=\varepsilon_{\vec{\al}}$.
We are assuming $\kappa=\beth_{2d}$, which is at least $\beth_{2d-1}(\aleph_0)^+$, so $\kappa\ra(\aleph_1)^{2d}_{\aleph_0}$ by Theorem \ref{thm.ER}.
Now we prepare for an application of the \Erdos-Rado Theorem. Given two sets of ordinals $J,K$ we shall write $J<K$ if and only if every member of $J$ is less than every member of $K$.
Let $D_e=\{0,2,\dots,2d-2\}$ and $D_o=\{1,3,\dots,2d-1\}$, the sets of even and odd integers less than $2d$, respectively.
Let $\mathcal{I}$ denote the collection of all functions $\iota: 2d\ra 2d$ such that
$\iota\re D_e$
and $\iota\re D_o$ are strictly increasing sequences
and
\begin{equation}
\{\iota(0),\iota(1)\}<\{\iota(2),\iota(3)\}<\dots<\{\iota(2d-2),\iota(2d-1)\}.
\end{equation}
Thus, each $\iota$ codes two strictly increasing sequences $\iota\re D_e$ and $\iota\re D_o$, each of length $d$.
For $\vec{\theta}\in[\kappa]^{2d}$,
$\iota(\vec{\theta}\,)$ determines the pair of sequences of ordinals
\begin{equation}
(\theta_{\iota(0)},\theta_{\iota(2)},\dots,\theta_{\iota(2d-2))}), (\theta_{\iota(1)},\theta_{\iota(3)},\dots,\theta_{\iota(2d-1)}),
\end{equation}
both of which are members of $[\kappa]^d$.
Denote these as $\iota_e(\vec\theta\,)$ and $\iota_o(\vec\theta\,)$, respectively.
To ease notation, let $\vec{\delta}_{\vec\al}$ denote $\vec\delta_{p_{\vec\al}}$,
$k_{\vec{\al}}$ denote $|\vec{\delta}_{\vec\al}|$,
and let $l_{\vec{\al}}$ denote $l_{p_{\vec\al}}$.
Let $\lgl \delta_{\vec{\al}}(j):j<k_{\vec{\al}}\rgl$
denote the enumeration of $\vec{\delta}_{\vec\al}$
in increasing order.
Define a coloring $f$ on $[\kappa]^{2d}$ into countably many colors as follows:
Given $\vec\theta\in[\kappa]^{2d}$ and
$\iota\in\mathcal{I}$, to reduce the number of subscripts, letting
$\vec\al$ denote $\iota_e(\vec\theta\,)$ and $\vec\beta$ denote $\iota_o(\vec\theta\,)$,
define
\begin{align}\label{eq.fiotatheta}
f(\iota,\vec\theta\,)=& \,
\lgl \iota, \varepsilon_{\vec{\al}}, k_{\vec{\al}},
\lgl \lgl p_{\vec{\al}}(i,\delta_{\vec{\al}}(j)):j<k_{\vec{\al}}\rgl:i< d\rgl,\cr
& \lgl \lgl i,j \rgl: i< d,\ j<k_{\vec{\al}}, \vec{\delta}_{\vec{\al}}(j)=\al_i \rgl,
\lgl \lgl j,k\rgl:j<k_{\vec{\al}},\ k<k_{\vec{\beta}},\ \delta_{\vec{\al}}(j)=\delta_{\vec{\beta}}(k)\rgl\rgl.
\end{align}
Let $f(\vec{\theta}\,)$ be the sequence $\lgl f(\iota,\vec\theta\,):\iota\in\mathcal{I}\rgl$, where $\mathcal{I}$ is given some fixed ordering.
Since the range of $f$ is countable,
applying the \Erdos-Rado Theorem,
we obtain a subset $K\sse\kappa$ of cardinality $\aleph_1$
which is homogeneous for $f$.
Take $K'\sse K$ such that between each two members of $K'$ there is a member of $K$ and $\min(K')>\min(K)$.
Take subsets $K'_i\sse K'$ such that $K'_0<\dots<K'_{d-1}$
and each $|K'_i|=\aleph_0$.
\begin{claim}\label{claim.onetypes}
There are $\varepsilon^*\in 2$, $k^*\in\om$,
and $ \lgl t_{i,j}: j<k^*\rgl$, $i< d$,
such that
$\varepsilon_{\vec{\al}}=\varepsilon^*$,
$k_{\vec\al}=k^*$, and
$\lgl p_{\vec\al}(i,\delta_{\vec\al}(j)):j<k_{\vec\al}\rgl
=
\lgl t_{i,j}: j<k^*\rgl$,
for each $i< d$,
for all $\vec{\al}\in \prod_{i<d}K'_i$.
\end{claim}
\begin{proof}
Let $\iota$ be the member in $\mathcal{I}$
which is the identity function on $2d$.
For any pair $\vec{\al},\vec{\beta}\in \prod_{i<d}K'_i$, there are $\vec\theta,\vec\theta'\in [K]^{2d}$
such that
$\vec\al=\iota_e(\vec\theta\,)$ and $\vec\beta=\iota_e(\vec\theta'\,)$.
Since $f(\iota,\vec\theta\,)=f(\iota,\vec\theta'\,)$,
it follows that $\varepsilon_{\vec\al}=\varepsilon_{\vec\beta}$, $k_{\vec{\al}}=k_{\vec{\beta}}$,
and $\lgl \lgl p_{\vec{\al}}(i,\delta_{\vec{\al}}(j)):j<k_{\vec{\al}}\rgl:i< d\rgl
=
\lgl \lgl p_{\vec{\beta}}(i,\delta_{\vec{\beta}}(j)):j<k_{\vec{\beta}}\rgl:i< d\rgl$.
\end{proof}
Let $l^*$ denote the length of the nodes $t_{i,j}$.
\begin{claim}\label{claim.j=j'}
Given any $\vec\al,\vec\beta\in \prod_{i<d}K'_i$,
if $j,j'<k^*$ and $\delta_{\vec\al}(j)=\delta_{\vec\beta}(j')$,
then $j=j'$.
\end{claim}
\begin{proof}
Let $\vec\al,\vec\beta$ be members of $\prod_{i<d}K'_i$ and suppose that
$\delta_{\vec\al}(j)=\delta_{\vec\beta}(j')$ for some $j,j'<k^*$.
For each $i<d$, let $\rho_i$ be the relation from among $\{<,=,>\}$ such that
$\al_i\,\rho_i\,\beta_i$.
Let $\iota$ be the member of $\mathcal{I}$ such that for each $\vec\gamma\in[K]^{d}$ and each $i<d$,
$\theta_{\iota(2i)}\ \rho_i \ \theta_{\iota(2i+1)}$.
Then there is a
$\vec\theta\in[K']^{2d}$ such that
$\iota_e(\vec\theta)=\vec\al$ and $\iota_o(\vec\theta)= \vec\beta$.
Since between any two members of $K'$ there is a member of $K$, there is a
$\vec\gamma\in[K]^{d}$ such that for each $i< d$,
$\al_i\,\rho_i\,\gamma_i$ and $\gamma_i\,\rho_i\, \beta_i$,
and furthermore, for each $i<d-1$,
$\{\al_i,\beta_i<\gamma_i\}<\{\al_{i+1},\beta_{i+1},\gamma_{i+1}\}$.
Given that $\al_i\,\rho_i\,\gamma_i$ and $\gamma_i\,\rho_i\, \beta_i$ for each $i<d$,
there are $\vec\mu,\vec\nu\in[K]^{2d}$ such that $\iota_e(\vec\mu)=\vec\al$,
$\iota_o(\vec\mu)=\vec\gamma$,
$\iota_e(\vec\nu)=\vec\gamma$, and $\iota_o(\vec\nu)=\vec\beta$.
Since $\delta_{\vec\al}(j)=\delta_{\vec\beta}(j')$,
the pair $\lgl j,j'\rgl$ is in the last sequence in $f(\iota,\vec\theta)$.
Since $f(\iota,\vec\mu)=f(\iota,\vec\nu)=f(\iota,\vec\theta)$,
also $\lgl j,j'\rgl$ is in the last sequence in $f(\iota,\vec\mu)$ and $f(\iota,\vec\nu)$.
It follows that $\delta_{\vec\al}(j)=\delta_{\vec\gamma}(j')$ and $\delta_{\vec\gamma}(j)=\delta_{\vec\beta}(j')$.
Hence, $\delta_{\vec\gamma}(j)=\delta_{\vec\gamma}(j')$,
and therefore $j$ must equal $j'$.
\end{proof}
For any $\vec\al\in \prod_{i<d}K'_i$ and any $\iota\in\mathcal{I}$, there is a $\vec\theta\in[K]^{2d}$ such that $\vec\al=\iota_o(\vec\theta)$.
By homogeneity of $f$ and by the first sequence in the second line of equation (\ref{eq.fiotatheta}), there is a strictly increasing sequence
$\lgl j_i:i< d\rgl$ of members of $k^*$ such that for each $\vec\al\in \prod_{i<d}K'_i$,
$\vec\delta_{\vec\al}(j_i)=\al_i$.
For each $i< d$, let $t^*_i$ denote $t_{i,j_i}$.
Then for each $i<d$ and each $\vec\al\in \prod_{i<d}K'_i$,
\begin{equation}
p_{\vec\al}(i,\al_i)=p_{\vec{\al}}(i, \vec\delta_{\vec\al}(j_i))=t_{i,j_i}=t^*_i.
\end{equation}
\begin{lem}\label{lem.compat}
The set of conditions $\{p_{\vec{\al}}:\vec{\al}\in \prod_{i<d}K'_i\}$ is compatible.
\end{lem}
\begin{proof}
Suppose toward a contradiction that there are $\vec\al,\vec\beta\in\prod_{i<d}K'_i$ such that $p_{\vec\al}$ and
$p_{\vec\beta}$ are incompatible.
By Claim \ref{claim.onetypes},
for each $i<d$ and $j<k^*$,
\begin{equation}
p_{\vec{\al}}(i,\delta_{\vec{\al}}(j))
=t_{i,j}
=p_{\vec{\beta}}(i,\delta_{\vec{\beta}}(j)).
\end{equation}
Thus,
the only way $p_{\vec\al}$ and $p_{\vec\beta}$ can be incompatible is if
there are $i< d$ and $j,j'<k^*$ such that
$\delta_{\vec\al}(j)=\delta_{\vec\beta}(j')$
but
$p_{\vec\al}(i,\delta_{\vec\al}(j))\ne p_{\vec\beta}(i,\delta_{\vec\beta}(j'))$.
Since
$p_{\vec\al}(i,\delta_{\vec\al}(j))=t_{i,j}$ and
$p_{\vec\beta}(i,\delta_{\vec\beta}(j'))= t_{i,j'}$,
this would imply
$j\ne j'$.
But by Claim \ref{claim.j=j'},
$j\ne j'$ implies that $\delta_{\vec\al}(j)\ne\delta_{\vec\beta}(j')$, a contradiction.
Therefore,
$p_{\vec\al}$ and $p_{\vec\beta}$ must be compatible.
\end{proof}
To build the strong subtrees $S_i\sse T_i$,
for each $i<d$,
let $\stem(S_i)=t_i^*$.
Let $l_0$ be the length of the $t_i^*$.
\vskip.1in
\noindent\underline{Induction Assumption}:
Assume $1\le m<\om$ and
there are levels $l_0,\dots, l_{m-1}$
and
we have constructed finite strong subtrees $S_i\re (l_{m-1}+1)$ of $T_i$, $i<d$,
such that
for each $j<m$,
$c$ takes color $\varepsilon^*$ on each member of
$\prod_{i<d} S_i(l_j)$.
\vskip.1in
For each $i<d$, let $X_i$ denote the set of immediate extensions in $T_i$ of the maximal nodes of $S_i$.
For each $i<d$,
let $J_i$ be a subset of $K_i'$ with the same size as $X_i$.
For each $i< d$, label the nodes in $X_i$ as
$\{q(i,\delta):\delta\in J_i\}$.
Let $\vec{J}$ denote $\prod_{i< d}J_i$.
Notice that for each
$\vec\al\in \vec{J}$ and $i<d$, $q(i,\al_i)\contains t^*_i=p_{\vec{\al}}(i,\al_i)$.
We now construct a condition $q\in\bP$ such that
for each $\vec\al\in\vec{J}$,
$q\le p_{\vec\al}$.
Let
$\vec{\delta}_q=\bigcup\{\vec{\delta}_{\vec\al}:\vec\al\in \vec{J}\}$.
For each pair $(i,\gamma)$ with $i<d$ and $\gamma\in\vec{\delta}_q\setminus
J_i$,
there is at least one $\vec{\al}\in\vec{J}$ and some $j'<k^*$ such that $\vec{\delta}_{\vec\al}(j')=\gamma$.
For any other $\vec\beta\in\vec{J}$ for which $\gamma\in\vec{\delta}_{\vec\beta}$,
since the set $\{p_{\vec{\al}}:\vec{\al}\in\vec{J}\}$ is pairwise compatible by Lemma \ref{lem.compat},
it follows
that $p_{\vec\beta}(i,\gamma)$ must equal $p_{\vec{\al}}(i,\gamma)$, which is exactly $t^*_{i,j'}$.
Further note that in this case,
$\vec{\delta}_{\vec\beta}(j')$ must also equal $\gamma$:
If $j''<k^*$ is the integer satisfying $\gamma=\vec{\delta}_{\vec\beta}(j'')$,
then
$t^*_{i,j''}=p_{\vec\beta}(i,\vec{\delta}_{\beta}(j''))=p_{\vec\beta}(i,\gamma)=p_{\vec\al}(i,\gamma)=t^*_{i,j'}$, and hence $j''=j'$.
Let $q(i,\gamma)$ be the leftmost extension
of $t_{i,j}^*$ in $T$.
By the above argument, $q(i,\gamma)$ is well-defined.
Thus, $q(i,\gamma)$ is defined for each pair $(i,\gamma)\in d\times \vec{\delta}_q$.
Define
\begin{equation}
q= \{\lgl (i,\delta),q(i,\delta)\rgl: i<d,\ \delta\in \vec{\delta}_q\}.
\end{equation}
\begin{claim}\label{claim.qbelowpal}
For each $\vec\al\in \vec{J}$,
$q\le p_{\vec\al}$.
\end{claim}
\begin{proof}
Given $\vec\al\in\vec{J}$,
by our construction
for each pair $(i,\gamma)\in d\times\vec{\delta}_{\vec\al}$, we have
$q(i,\gamma)\contains p_{\vec{\al}}(i,\gamma)$.
\end{proof}
To construct the $m$-th level of the strong trees $S_i$,
take an $r\le q$ in $\bP$ which decides some $l_m\ge l_q$ for which $c(\dot{b}_{\vec\al}\re l_m)=\varepsilon^*$, for all $\vec\al\in\vec{J}$.
By extending or truncating $r$, we may assume, without
loss of generality, that $l_m$ is equal to the length of the nodes in the image of $r$.
Notice that since
$r$ forces $\dot{b}_{\vec{\al}}\re l_m=\{r(i,\al_i):i<d\}$ for each $\vec\al\in \vec{J}$,
and since the coloring $c$ is defined in the ground model,
it is simply true in the ground model that
$c(\{r(i,\al_i):i<d\})=\varepsilon^*$ for each $\vec\al\in \vec{J}$.
For each $i<d$ and $\al_i\in J_i$,
extend the nodes in $X_i$ to level $l_m$ by extending $q(i,\delta)$ to $r(i,\delta)$.
Thus, for each $i<d$,
we define $S_i(l_m)=\{r(i,\delta):\delta\in J_i\}$.
It follows that $c$ takes value $\varepsilon^*$ on each member of $\prod_{i<d} S_i(l_m)$.
For each $i<d$, let $S_i=\bigcup_{m<\om} S_i(l_m)$, and let $L=\{l_m:m<\om\}$.
Then each $S_i$ is a strong subtree of $T_i$, and
$c$ takes value $\varepsilon^*$ on $\bigcup_{l\in L}\prod_{i<d}S_i(l)$.
\end{proof}
The Halpern-\Lauchli\ Theorem is used to obtain
a space of strong trees with important Ramsey properties.
\begin{defn}[Milliken space]\label{defn.milliken}
The {\em Milliken space} is the triple
$(\mathcal{M},\le,r)$, where
$\mathcal{M}$ consists of all infinite strong subtrees $T\sse 2^{<\om}$;
$\le$ is the partial ordering defined by
$S\le T$ if and only if $S$ is a subtree of $T$;
and
$r_k(T)$ is
the $k$-th restriction of $T$, meaning
the set of all
$t\in T$ with $<k$ splitting nodes in $T$ below $t$.
\end{defn}
Thus, $r_k(T)$ is a finite strong tree with $k$ many levels.
Let $\mathcal{AM}_k$ denote the set of all strong trees with $k$ levels, and let
$\mathcal{AM}$ denote all finite strong trees.
A topology on $\mathcal{M}$ is generated by basic open sets of the form
\begin{equation}
[U,T]=\{S\in\mathcal{M}:\exists k(r_k(S)=U)\mathrm{\ and\ }S\le T\},
\end{equation}
where $U\in\mathcal{A}$ and $T\in\mathcal{M}$.
Milliken proved in \cite{Milliken81} that, in current terminology, the space of all strong trees forms a topological Ramsey space.
The properties of meager and having the property of Baire are defined in the standard way from the topology.
A subset $\mathcal{X}\sse\mathcal{M}$
is {\em Ramsey} if for every $\emptyset\ne [U,T]$ there is an $S\in[U,T]$ such that either $[U,S]\sse\mathcal{X}$ or else $[U,S]\cap\mathcal{X}=\emptyset$.
$\mathcal{X}$ is {\em Ramsey null} if the second option occurs for any given $[U,S]$.
\begin{defn}[\cite{TodorcevicBK10}]\label{defn.5.2}
A triple $(\mathcal{R},\le,r)$ is a {\em topological Ramsey space} if every subset of $\mathcal{R}$ with the property of Baire is Ramsey and if every meager subset of $\mathcal{R}$ is Ramsey null.
\end{defn}
The following theorem is a consequence of Milliken's result that the space of all strong subtrees of $2^{<\om}$ is a topological Ramsey space.
This theorem provides a powerful tool for obtaining finite big Ramsey degrees
for the Rado graph and the rationals, considered in the next section.
\begin{thm}[Milliken, \cite{Milliken81}]\label{thm.M}
For each $k<\om$, $T\in\mathcal{M}$, and coloring
of all finite strong subtrees of $T$ with $k$ levels,
there is an infinite strong subtree $S\le T$ such that
all finite strong subtrees of $S$ with $k$ levels have the same color.
\end{thm}
In the setting of topological Ramsey spaces, the following is the
pigeonhole principle ({\bf Axiom A.4} in \cite{TodorcevicBK10}); it
follows from an application
of the Halpern-\Lauchli\ Theorem as shown below.
For $U\in \mathcal{AM}_k$,
$r_{k+1}[U,T]$ denotes the set
$\{r_{k+1}(S):S\in [U,T]\}$.
\begin{lem} \label{lem.A4Milliken}
Let $k<\om$, $U\in\mathcal{AM}_k$, and $T\in\mathcal{M}$ such that
$r_{k+1}[U,T]$ is nonempty.
Then for each coloring of $r_{k+1}[U,T]$ into finitely many colors,
there is an $S\in [U,T]$ such that all members of $r_{k+1}[U,S]$ have the same color.
\end{lem}
\begin{proof}
By induction on the number of colors, it suffices to consider colorings into two colors.
Let $c:r_{k+1}[U,T]\ra 2$ be given.
If $k=0$, then $r_1[U,T]$ is simply the set of nodes in $T$.
In this case, the pigeonhole principle is exactly the Halpern-\Lauchli\ Theorem on one tree.
Now suppose $k\ge 1$.
Note that
there are $2^k$ many immediate successors of the maximal nodes in $U$;
list
these as $s_i$, $i<2^k$, and let $T_i=\{t\in T:t\contains s_i\}$.
Let $L$ denote the levels of the trees $T_i$; that is, $L$ is the set of all the lengths of the nodes in $T_i$ which split.
This set $L$ is the same for each $i<2^k$, since the $T_i$ are cones in the strong tree $T$ starting at the level one above the maximum lengths of nodes in $U$.
Notice that
$r_{k+1}[U,T]$ is exactly the set of all $U\cup \{u_i:i<2^k\}$, where $\lgl u_i:i<2^k\rgl$ is a member of $\prod_{i<2^k}T_i(l)$ for some $l\in L$.
Let $d$ be the coloring on $\bigcup_{l\in L}\prod_{i<2^k}T_i(l)$ induced by $c$ as follows:
\begin{equation}
d(\lgl u_i:i<2^k\rgl)=c(U\cup \{u_i:i<2^k\}).
\end{equation}
Apply the Halpern-\Lauchli\ Theorem for $2^k$ many trees to obtain an infinite set of levels $K\sse L$ and strong subtrees $S_i\sse T_i$ with nodes at the levels in $K$
such that $d$ is monochromatic on $\bigcup_{l\in K}\prod_{i<2^k}S_i(l)$.
Let
\begin{equation}
S=U\cup\bigcup_{i<2^k}S_i.
\end{equation}
Then $S$ is a strong subtree of $T$ such that $r_k(S)=U$
and $c$ is monochromatic on $r_{k+1}[U,S]$.
\end{proof}
Theorem \ref{thm.M} is obtained by Lemma \ref{lem.A4Milliken} using induction on $k$.
\section{Applications of Milliken's theorem to homogeneous binary relational structures}\label{sec.Sauer}
The {\em random graph} is the graph on $\om$ many vertices such that given any two vertices, there is a 50\% chance that there is an edge between them.
A graph $\R$ on $\om$ many vertices is random if and only if it is universal for all
countable graphs; that is, every countable graph embeds into $\R$.
This is equivalent to $\R$ being
homogeneous;
any isomorphism between two finite subgraphs of $\R$ can be extended to an automorphism of $\R$.
Another characterization of the random graph is that it
is the \Fraisse\ limit of the \Fraisse\ class of finite graphs.
As the random graph on $\om$ many vertices was first constructed by R.\ Rado, we will call it the {\em Rado graph}, and denote it by $\mathcal{R}$.
The Rado graph has the Ramsey Property for vertex colorings.
\begin{fact}[Folklore]\label{fact.RvertexRP}
For each coloring of the vertices of the Rado graph $\mathcal{R}$ into finitely many colors,
there is a subgraph $\mathcal{R}'$ which is also a Rado graph,
in which the vertices are homogeneous for $c$.
\end{fact}
For finite colorings of the copies of a graph with more than one vertex, it is not always possible to cut down to one color in a copy of the full Rado graph.
However, Sauer showed that there is a bound on the number of colors that cannot be avoided.
\begin{thm}[Sauer, \cite{Sauer06}]\label{thm.Sauer}
The Rado graph has finite big Ramsey degrees.
\end{thm}
The following outlines the key steps in Sauer's proof:
Let $\G$ be a finite graph.
\begin{enumerate}
\item
Trees can code graphs.
\item
There are only finitely many isomorphism types of trees coding $\mathrm{G}$, and only the strongly diagonal types matter.
\item
For each isomorphism type of tree coding $\G$,
there is a way of enveloping it into a finite strong tree.
\item
The coloring on copies of $\G$ can be transferred to color finite strong trees, and
Milliken's Theorem may be applied to
these `strong tree envelopes' of the trees coding $\G$.
\item
Conclude that there is an infinite strong subtree of $2^{<\om}$ which includes a code of $\mathcal{R}$ and on which there is one color per isomorphism type of tree coding $\G$.
\end{enumerate}
Let $s$ and $t$ be nodes in $2^{<\om}$, and suppose $|s|<|t|$.
If $s$ and $t$ represent vertices $v$ and $w$,
then $s$ and $t$ represent an edge between $v$ and $w$ if and only if $t(|s|)=1$.
Thus, if $t(|s|)=0$, then $s$ and $t$ represent no edge between vertices $v$ and $w$.
Let $\G$ be a graph.
Enumerate the vertices of $\G$ in any order as $\lgl v_n:n<N\rgl$, where $N=|\G|$.
Any collection of nodes $\lgl t_n:n<N\rgl$
in $2^{<\om}$ for which the following hold
is a {\em tree coding $\G$}:
For each pair $m<n<N$,
\begin{enumerate}
\item
$|t_m|<|t_n|$; and
\item
$t_n(|t_m|)=1\Leftrightarrow v_n\ E\ v_m$.
\end{enumerate}
The integer $t_n(|t_m|)$ is called the {\em passing number of $t_n$ at $t_m$}.
\begin{figure}\label{figure.3}
\begin{tikzpicture}[grow'=up,scale=.5]
\tikzstyle{level 1}=[sibling distance=4in]
\tikzstyle{level 2}=[sibling distance=2in]
\tikzstyle{level 3}=[sibling distance=1in]
\tikzstyle{level 4}=[sibling distance=0.5in]
\node {$\left< \ \right >$}
child{
child{
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}
child{ coordinate (t2)
}
}
child{ coordinate (t1)
child{
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}
child{coordinate (t3)}}
child{edge from parent[draw=none]} }}
child{coordinate (t0)
};
\node[right] at (t0) {$t_{0}$};
\node[right] at (t1) {$t_{1}$};
\node[right] at (t2) {$t_{2}$};
\node[right] at (t3) {$t_{3}$};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=6pt] at (t0) {};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=6pt] at (t1) {};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=6pt] at (t2) {};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=6pt] at (t3) {};
\draw[thick, dotted] let \p1=(t1) in (-12,\y1) node (v1) {$\bullet$} -- (7,\y1);
\draw[thick, dotted] let \p1=(t2) in (-12,\y1) node (v2) {$\bullet$} -- (7,\y1);
\draw[thick, dotted] let \p1=(t3) in (-12,\y1) node (v3) {$\bullet$} -- (7,\y1);
\draw[thick, dotted] let \p1=(t0) in (-12,\y1) node (v0) {$\bullet$} -- (7,\y1);
\node[left] at (v1) {$v_1$};
\node[left] at (v2) {$v_2$};
\node[left] at (v3) {$v_3$};
\node[left] at (v0) {$v_0$};
\draw[thick] (v0.center) to (v1.center) to (v2.center) to (v3.center) to [bend left] (v0.center);
\end{tikzpicture}
\caption{A tree coding a 4-cycle}
\end{figure}
A tree $Z\sse 2^{<\om}$ is {\em strongly diagonal}
if $Z$ is the meet closure of its terminal nodes,
no two terminal nodes of $Z$ have the same length,
for each $l<\om$, there is at most one splitting node or terminal node in $Z$ of length $l$,
and at a splitting node, all other nodes not splitting at that level have passing number $0$.
\begin{defn}[Sauer, \cite{Sauer06}]\label{def.Sauer}
Let $S$ and $T$ be subtrees of $2^{<\om}$.
A function $f:S\ra T$ is a {\em strong similarity} of $S$ to $T$ if for all nodes $s,t,u,v\in S$,
\begin{enumerate}
\item
$f$ is a bijection.
\item
($f$ preserves initial segments)
$s\wedge t\sse u\wedge v$ if and only if $f(s)\wedge f(t)\sse f(u)\wedge f(v)$.
\item
($f$ preserves relative lengths)
$|s\wedge t|<|u\wedge v|$ if and only if
$|f(s)\wedge f(t)|<|f(u)\wedge f(v)|$.
\item
($f$ preserves passing numbers)
If $|u|>|s\wedge t|$,
then $f(u)(|f(s\wedge t)|)=u(|s\wedge t|)$.
\end{enumerate}
\end{defn}
Whenever there is a strong similarity of $S$ to $T$, we call $S$ a {\em copy} of $T$.
Each finite strongly diagonal $X$ tree may be enveloped into a strong tree.
Minimal envelopes will have the same number of levels as the number of meets and maximal nodes in $X$.
The following diagram provides an example of the similarity type of a tree coding an edge, where the
leftmost node is longer than the rightmost.
In this example, an edge is coded
by the nodes $(010)$ and $(0001)$,
since the passing number of the sequence $(0001)$ at length $3=|(010)|$ is $1$.
There is only one possible envelope for this particular example of this strong similarity type coding an edge.
\vskip.2in
\begin{minipage}[b]{0.5\textwidth}
\centering
\begin{tikzpicture}[grow'=up,scale=.5]
\tikzstyle{level 1}=[sibling distance=4in]
\tikzstyle{level 2}=[sibling distance=2in]
\tikzstyle{level 3}=[sibling distance=1in]
\tikzstyle{level 4}=[sibling distance=0.5in]
\node {}
child{ coordinate (t0) edge from parent[draw=none]
child{
child{
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}
child{coordinate (t0001)}}
child{ edge from parent[draw=none]
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}}}
child{
child{ coordinate(t010)
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}}
child{ edge from parent[draw=none]
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}}}}
child{edge from parent[draw=none]
child{edge from parent[draw=none]
child{edge from parent[draw=none]
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}}
child{edge from parent[draw=none]
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}}}
child{edge from parent[draw=none]
child{edge from parent[draw=none]
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}}
child{edge from parent[draw=none]
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}}} };
\node[right] at (t0001) {$(0001)$};
\node[left] at (t0) {$(0)$};
\node[right] at (t010) {$(010)$};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=5pt] at (t010) {};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=5pt] at (t0001) {};
\end{tikzpicture}
\end{minipage}
\begin{minipage}[b]{0.5\textwidth}
\centering
\begin{tikzpicture}[grow'=up,scale=.5]
\tikzstyle{level 1}=[sibling distance=4in]
\tikzstyle{level 2}=[sibling distance=2in]
\tikzstyle{level 3}=[sibling distance=1in]
\tikzstyle{level 4}=[sibling distance=0.5in]
\node{}
child{coordinate (t0) edge from parent[draw=none]
child{coordinate (t00)
child{coordinate (t000)
child{coordinate (t0000)edge from parent[color=black]}
child{coordinate (t0001)}}
child{edge from parent[draw=none]
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}}}
child{ coordinate(t01)edge from parent[color=black]
child{ coordinate(t010)edge from parent[color=black]
child{coordinate(t0100)edge from parent[color=black]}
child{coordinate(t0101)edge from parent[color=black]}}
child{ edge from parent[draw=none]
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}}}}
child{edge from parent[draw=none]
child{edge from parent[draw=none]
child{edge from parent[draw=none]
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}}
child{edge from parent[draw=none]
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}}}
child{edge from parent[draw=none]
child{edge from parent[draw=none]
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}}
child{edge from parent[draw=none]
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}
child{edge from parent[draw=none]}}} };
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=5pt] at (t010) {};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=5pt] at (t0001) {};
\end{tikzpicture}
\end{minipage}
For some strongly diagonal trees, there can be more than one minimal envelope. The pair of nodes $(0)$ and $(110)$ have induce a tree with the second strong similarity type of a tree coding an edge.
On the right is one envelope.
\vskip.15in
\begin{minipage}[b]{0.5\textwidth}
\centering
\begin{tikzpicture}[grow'=up,scale=.5]
\tikzstyle{level 1}=[sibling distance=2in]
\tikzstyle{level 2}=[sibling distance=1in]
\tikzstyle{level 3}=[sibling distance=.5in]
\node {$\lgl \rgl$}
child{coordinate (t0)
}
child{ coordinate(t1)
child{ edge from parent[draw=none]}
child{ coordinate(t11)
child{ coordinate(t110) }
child{ edge from parent[draw=none]}} };
\node[left] at (t0) {$(0)$};
\node[right] at (t110) {$(110)$};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=5pt] at (t0) {};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=5pt] at (t110) {};
\end{tikzpicture}
\end{minipage}
\begin{minipage}[b]{0.5\textwidth}
\centering
\begin{tikzpicture}[grow'=up,scale=.5]
\tikzstyle{level 1}=[sibling distance=2in]
\tikzstyle{level 2}=[sibling distance=1in]
\tikzstyle{level 3}=[sibling distance=.5in]
\node {$\lgl \rgl$}
child{coordinate (t0)
child{coordinate (t00)
child{coordinate (t000)}
child{ edge from parent[draw=none]}}
child{ coordinate(t01)
child{ edge from parent[draw=none]}
child{ coordinate(t011)}}}
child{ coordinate(t1)
child{ coordinate(t10)
child{ edge from parent[draw=none]}
child{ coordinate(t101)}}
child{ coordinate(t11)
child{ coordinate(t110)}
child{ edge from parent[draw=none]}} };
\node[left] at (t0) {$(0)$};
\node[left] at (t000) {$(000)$};
\node[left] at (t011) {$(011)$};
\node[right] at (t1) {$1$};
\node[left] at (t101) {$(101)$};
\node[right] at (t110) {$(110)$};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=5pt] at (t0) {};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=5pt] at (t110) {};
\end{tikzpicture}
\end{minipage}
\vskip.1in
Here are two more envelopes for the same tree induced by the nodes $(0)$ and $(110)$ coding an edge.
\vskip.1in
\begin{minipage}[b]{0.5\textwidth}
\centering
\begin{tikzpicture}[grow'=up,scale=.5]
\tikzstyle{level 1}=[sibling distance=2in]
\tikzstyle{level 2}=[sibling distance=1in]
\tikzstyle{level 3}=[sibling distance=.5in]
\node {$\lgl \rgl$}
child{coordinate (t0)
child{coordinate (t00)
child{ edge from parent[draw=none]}
child{ coordinate(t001)}}
child{ coordinate(t01)
child{ edge from parent[draw=none]}
child{ coordinate(t011)}}}
child{ coordinate(t1)
child{ coordinate(t10)
child{ coordinate(t100)}
child{ edge from parent[draw=none]}}
child{ coordinate(t11)
child{ coordinate(t110)}
child{ edge from parent[draw=none]}} };
\node[left] at (t0) {$(0)$};
\node[left] at (t001) {$(001)$};
\node[left] at (t011) {$(011)$};
\node[right] at (t100) {$(100)$};
\node[right] at (t110) {$(110)$};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=5pt] at (t0) {};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=5pt] at (t110) {};
\end{tikzpicture}
\end{minipage}
\begin{minipage}[b]{0.5\textwidth}
\centering
\begin{tikzpicture}[grow'=up,scale=.5]
\tikzstyle{level 1}=[sibling distance=2in]
\tikzstyle{level 2}=[sibling distance=1in]
\tikzstyle{level 3}=[sibling distance=.5in]
\node {$\lgl \rgl$}
child{coordinate (t0)
child{coordinate (t00)
child{coordinate (t000)}
child{ edge from parent[draw=none]}}
child{ coordinate(t01)
child{ coordinate(t010)}
child{ edge from parent[draw=none]}}}
child{ coordinate(t1)
child{ coordinate(t10)
child{ coordinate(t100)}
child{ edge from parent[draw=none]}}
child{ coordinate(t11)
child{ coordinate(t110)}
child{ edge from parent[draw=none]}} };
\node[left] at (t0) {$(0)$};
\node[left] at (t000) {$(000)$};
\node[left] at (t010) {$(010)$};
\node[right] at (t100) {$(100)$};
\node[right] at (t110) {$(110)$};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=5pt] at (t0) {};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=5pt] at (t110) {};
\end{tikzpicture}
\end{minipage}
The point is that given a strong similarity type of a finite strongly diagonal tree $D$ coding a graph $\G$,
if $k$ is the number of maximal and splitting nodes in $D$,
then given any strong tree $U$ isomorphic to $2^{\le k}$, there is exactly one copy of $D$ sitting inside of
$X$.
Thus, a coloring on all strongly similar copies of $D$
inside a strong tree $S$ may be transfered
to the collection of all finite strong subtrees of $S$ in
$\mathcal{AM}_k$.
Then Milliken's Theorem may be applied to this coloring on all copies of $2^{\le k}$ inside $S$,
obtaining a strong subtree $S'\le S$ in which each copy of $D$ has the same color.
The final step for Sauer's proof is to show that in any infinite strong subtree of $2^{<\om}$, there is an infinite strongly diagonal tree $\bD$ whose terminal nodes code the Rado graph.
Every finite subtree of
$\bD$ will automatically be strongly diagonal, in particular those coding $\G$.
As there are only finitely many strong similarity types of strongly diagonal trees coding a fixed finite graph $\G$,
this provides the upper bound for the big Ramsey degree $n(\G)$.
It also provides the lower bound as
each strongly diagonal type persists in any subtree of $\bD$ which codes the Rado graph.
\vskip.1in
Sauer's Theorem \ref{thm.Sauer} was recently applied to
obatin the following.
\begin{thm}[Dobrinen, Laflamme, Sauer, \cite{Dobrinen/Laflamme/Sauer16}]\label{thm.DLS}
The Rado graph has the rainbow Ramsey property.
\end{thm}
This means that given any $2\le k<\om$, a finite graph $\G$, and any coloring of all copies of $\G$ in $\mathcal{R}$ into $\om$ many colors, where each color appears at most $k$ times,
then
there is a copy $\mathcal{R}'$ of $\mathcal{R}$ in which each color on a copy of $\G$ appears at most once.
This result extends, with not much more work, to the larger class of binary relational simple structures.
These include the random directed graph and the random tournament.
It is well-known that the natural numbers have the rainbow Ramsey property, as the proof follows from the Ramsey property.
On the other hand, Theorem \ref{thm.Sauer}
shows that the Rado graph does not have the Ramsey property when the subgraph being colored has more than one vertex.
However, the finite Ramsey degrees provides enough strength to still deduce the rainbow Ramsey property for the Rado graph.
We close this section with two applications of Milliken's Theorem to colorings of finite subsets of the rationals.
The rational numbers $\bQ=(Q,\le_Q)$
is up to isomorphism the countable dense linear order without endpoints.
The nodes in the tree $2^{<\om}$ may be given the following linear ordering so as to produce a copy of the rationals.
\begin{defn}\label{def.Devlin}
Let $<_Q$ be the order on $2^{<\om}$ defined as follows. For $s$ and $t$ incomparable, $s<_Q t$ if and only if $s<_{\mathrm{lex}} t$.
If $s\subset t$,
then $s<_Q t$ if and only if $t(|s|)=1$;
and $t<_Q s$ if and only if $t(|s|)=0$.
\end{defn}
With this ordering, $(2^{<\om},<Q)$ is order isomorphic to the rationals.
Then Milliken's Theorem may be applied to deduce Ramsey properties of the rationals.
We do not go into detail on this, but refer the interested reader to \cite{TodorcevicBK10} for further exposition.
The numbers $t_d$ are the {\em tangent numbers}.
\begin{thm}[Devlin, \cite{DevlinThesis}]\label{thm.DevlinThesis}
Let $d$ be a positive integer.
For each coloring of $[\mathbb{Q}]^d$ into finitely many colors, there is a subset $Q'\sse\mathbb{Q}$ which is order-isomorphic to $\mathbb{Q}$ and such that $[Q']^d$ uses at most $t_d$ colors.
There is a coloring of $[\mathbb{Q}]^d$ with $t_d$ colors, none of which can be avoided by going to an order-isomorphic copy of $\mathbb{Q}$.
\end{thm}
Milliken's Theorem along with the ordering $(2^{<\om},<_Q)$ isomorphic to the rationals were used to obtain the big Ramsey degrees for finite products of the rationals.
\begin{thm}[Laver, \cite{Laver84}]\label{thm.Laver}
Let $d$ be a positive integer
For each coloring of $\mathbb{Q}^d$, the product of $d$ many copies of the rationals, into finitely many colors,
there are subsets $Q_i\sse\mathbb{Q}$, $i<d$, also forming sets of rationals, such that
no more than $(d+1)!$ colors occur on $\prod_{i<d}Q_i$.
Moreover, $(d+1)!$ is optimal.
\end{thm}
\section{The universal triangle-free graph and Ramsey theory for strong coding trees}\label{sec.H_3}
The problem of whether or not countable homogeneous structures omitting a certain type of substructure can have finite big Ramsey degrees is largely open.
The simplest homogeneous relational structure omitting a type
is the universal triangle-free graph.
A graph $\G$ is {\em triangle-free} if for any three vertices in $\G$, at least one pair has no edge between them.
The {\em universal triangle-free graph} is the triangle-free graph on $\om$ many vertices into which every other triangle-free graph on countably many vertices embeds.
This is the analogue of the Rado graph for triangle-free graphs.
The first universal triangle-free graph was constructed by Henson in \cite{Henson71}, which
we denote as $\mathcal{H}_3$, in which
he proved that any two
countable universal triangle-free graphs are isomorphic.
There are several equivalent characterizations of $\mathcal{H}_3$.
Let
$\mathcal{K}_3$ denote the \Fraisse\ class of all finite triangle-free graphs.
We say that a triangle-free graph
$\mathcal{H}$ is {\em homogeneous} for $\mathcal{K}_3$ if any isomorphism between two finite subgraphs of $\mathcal{H}$ can be extended to an automorphism of $\mathcal{H}$.
\begin{thm}[Henson, \cite{Henson71}]\label{thm.Henson}
Let $\mathcal{H}$ be a triangle-free graph on $\om$ many vertices.
The following are equivalent.
\begin{enumerate}
\item
$\mathcal{H}$ is universal for countable triangle-free graphs.
\item
$\mathcal{H}$ is the \Fraisse\ limit of $\mathcal{K}_3$.
\item
$\mathcal{H}$ is homogeneous for $\mathcal{K}_3$.
\end{enumerate}
\end{thm}
In 1971, Henson proved in \cite{Henson71} that for any coloring of the vertices of $\mathcal{H}_3$ into two colors, there is either a subgraph $\mathcal{H}'\le \mathcal{H}_3$ with all vertices in the first color, and which is isomorphic to $\mathcal{H}_3$;
or else there is an infinite subgraph $\mathcal{H}'\le\mathcal{H}_3$ in which all the vertices have the second color and into which each member of $\mathcal{K}_3$ embeds.
Fifteen years later, Komj\'{a}th and \Rodl\ proved that vertex colorings of $\mathcal{H}_3$ have the Ramsey property.
\begin{thm}[Komj\'{a}th/\Rodl, \cite{Komjath/Rodl86}]\label{thm.KR}
For any finite coloring of the vertices $|\mathcal{H}_3|$,
there is an $\mathcal{H}\in\binom{\mathcal{H}_3}{\mathcal{H}_3}$ such that $|\mathcal{H}|$ has one color.
\end{thm}
The next question was whether
finite colorings of edges in $\mathcal{H}_3$ could be
reduced to one color on a copy of $\mathcal{H}_3$.
In 1988, Sauer proved that this was impossible.
\begin{thm}[Sauer, \cite{Sauer98}]\label{thm.SauerH_3}
For any finite coloring of the edges in $\mathcal{H}_3$, there is an
$\mathcal{H}\in\binom{\mathcal{H}_3}{\mathcal{H}_3}$ such that the edges in $\mathcal{H}$ take on no more than two colors.
Furthermore, there is a coloring on the edges in $\mathcal{H}_3$ into two colors such that every universal triangle-free subgraph of $\mathcal{H}_3$ has edges of both colors.
\end{thm}
This is in contrast to a theorem of \Nesetril\ and \Rodl\ in \cite{Nesetril/Rodl77} and \cite{Nesetril/Rodl83} proving that
the \Fraisse\ class of finite ordered triangle-free graphs has the Ramsey property.
Sauer's result begged the question of whether
his result would extend to all finite triangle-free graphs.
In other words, does
$\mathcal{H}_3$ have finite big Ramsey degrees?
This was recently solved by the author in \cite{DobrinenH_317}.
\begin{thm}[Dobrinen, \cite{DobrinenH_317}]\label{thm.DG}
The universal triangle-free graph has finite big Ramsey degrees.
\end{thm}
The proof of Theorem \ref{thm.DG}
proceeds via the following steps.
\begin{enumerate}
\item
Build a space of new kinds of trees, each of which codes $\mathcal{H}_3$. We call these {\em strong coding trees}.
Develop a new notion of strict similarity type, which augments the notion of strong similarity type in $2^{<\om}$.
\item
Prove analogues of Halpern-\Lauchli\ and Milliken for
the collection of strong coding trees, obtaining one color per strong similarity type.
These use the technique of forcing. The set-up and arguments are similar to those in Theorem \ref{thm.matrixHL}.
The coding nodes present an obstacle which must be overcome in several separate forcings; furthermore,
the partial orderings are stricter than simply extension.
\item
Develop new notion of envelope.
\item
Apply theorems and notions from (3) and (4) to obtain a strong coding tree $S$ with one color per strict similarity type.
\item
Construct a diagonal subtree $D\sse S$ which codes $\mathcal{H}_3$, and has room for the envelopes to fit in an intermediary subtree $S'$, where $D\sse S'\sse S$.
\item
Conclude that $\mathcal{H}_3$ has finite big Ramsey degrees.
\end{enumerate}
In this article, we present the space of strong coding trees and the Halpern-\Lauchli\ analogue, leaving the reader interested in the further steps to read \cite{DobrinenH_317}.
One constraint for finding the finite big Ramsey degrees for $\mathcal{H}_3$ was that, unlike the bi-embeddability between the Rado graph and the graph coded by all the nodes in $2^{<\om}$, an interplay which was of fundamental importance to Sauer's proof in the previous section,
there is no graph induced by a homogeneous tree of some simple form which is bi-embeddable with the universal triangle-free graph.
Thus, our approach was to consider certain nodes in our trees as distinguished to code vertices, calling them
{\em coding nodes}.
We now present the new space of strong triangle-free trees coding $\mathcal{H}_3$.
For $i<j<k$, suppose the vertices
$\{v_i,v_j,v_k\}$ are coded by
the distinguished nodes $t_i,t_j,t_k$ in $2^{<\om}$,
where $|t_i|<|t_j|<|t_k|$.
The vertices
$\{v_i,v_j,v_k\}$ form a triangle
if and only if
there are edges between each pair of vertices
if and only if
the distinguished coding nodes $t_i,t_j,t_k$ satisfy
\begin{equation}\label{eq.triangle}
t_k(|t_j|)=t_k(|t_i|)=t_j(|t_i|)=1.
\end{equation}
Whenever
$t_k(|t_i|)=t_j(|t_i|)=1$, we say that $t_k$ and $t_j$ have {\em parallel 1's}.
The following criterion guarantees that as we construct a tree with distinguished nodes coding vertices, we can construct one in which the coding nodes code no triangles.
\vskip.1in
\noindent \bf Triangle-Free Extension Criterion: \rm A node $t$ at the level of the $n$-th coding node $t_n$ extends right if and only if $t$ and $t_n$ have no parallel $1$'s.
\vskip.1in
The following slight modification of a property which Henson proved guarantees a copy of $\mathcal{H}_3$ is used in our construction of strong coding trees.
\vskip.1in
\begin{enumerate}
\item[]
\begin{enumerate}
\item[$(A_3)^{\tt{tree}}$]
Let $\lgl F_i:i<\om\rgl$ be any listing of finite subsets of $\om$ such that $F_i\sse i$ and each finite set appears as $F_i$ for infinitely many indices $i$.
For each $i<\om$,
if
$t_k(l_j)=0$ for all pairs $j<k$ in $F_i$,
then
there is some $n\ge i$ such that
for all $k<i$,
$t_n(l_k)=1$ if and only if $ k\in F_i$.
\end{enumerate}
\end{enumerate}
\vskip.1in
We now show how to build a tree $\bS$ which has distinguished nodes coding the vertices in $\mathcal{H}_3$ and which is maximally branching subject to not coding any triangles.
Moreover, the coding nodes will be dense in the tree $\bS$.
Let $\lgl F_i:i<\om\rgl$ list $[\om]^{<\om}$ in such a way that $F_i\sse i$ and each finite set appears infinitely many times.
Enumerate the nodes in $2^{<\om}$ as $\lgl u_i:i<\om\rgl$,
where all nodes in $2^k$ appear before any node in $2^{k+1}$.
Let the first two levels be $2^{\le 1}$ and let the least coding node $t_0$ be $\lgl 1\rgl$.
Extend $\lgl 0\rgl$ both right and left and extend $t_0$ only left.
$t_0$ codes the vertex $v_0$.
From here,
on odd steps $2n+1$,
if the node $u_n$ is in the part of the tree constructed so far,
extend $u_n$ to a coding node $t_{2n+1}$ in $2^{2n+2}$ such that the only edge it codes is an edge with vertex $v_{2n}$;
that is, $t_{2n+1}(|t_i|)=1$ if and only if $i=2n$.
On even steps $2n$, if $\{t_i:i\in F_n\}$ does not code any edges between the vertices $\{v_i:i\in F_n\}$,
then take some node $s$ in the tree constructed so far such that $s(|t_i|)=1$ for all $i\in F_n$,
$s(|t_i|)=0$ for all $i\in 2n-1$,
and $s(2n)=1$.
That such a node $s$ is in the tree constructed so far is guaranteed by our maximal branching subject to the Triangle-Free Extension Criterion.
If on either step the condition is not met, then let $t_{2n+1}={0^{2n+1}}^{\frown}1$.
The trees constructed in \cite{DobrinenH_317} have an additional requirement, but these are the main ideas.
Since the condition $(A_3)^{\tt tree}$ is met, the coding nodes in $\bS$ code $\mathcal{H}_3$.
Notice that any subtree of $\bS$ which is isomorphic to $\bS$, coding nodes being taken into account in the isomorphism, also codes $\mathcal{H}_3$.
\begin{center}
\begin{figure}
\begin{tikzpicture}[grow'=up,xscale=.55,yscale=.5]
\tikzstyle{level 1}=[sibling distance=4in]
\tikzstyle{level 2}=[sibling distance=2in]
\tikzstyle{level 3}=[sibling distance=1in]
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\tikzstyle{level 5}=[sibling distance=0.3in]
\tikzstyle{level 6}=[sibling distance=0.2in]
\node {$\left< \ \right >$}
child{
child{
child{
child{
child{child child}
child{child child{edge from parent[draw=none]}}}
child{
child{child child{coordinate (t5)}}
child {edge from parent[draw=none]}
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child{ coordinate (t2)
child{
child{ child child{edge from parent[draw=none]} }
child{ child child{edge from parent[draw=none]} }
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child {edge from parent[draw=none]}}
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child{ coordinate (t1)
child{
child{
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child
child
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child {edge from parent[draw=none]}}
child{coordinate (t3)
child{
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child {edge from parent[draw=none]}}}
child {edge from parent[draw=none]} }}
child{coordinate (t0)
child{
child{
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child{child{
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child {edge from parent[draw=none]}} child {edge from parent[draw=none]}}
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\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=5pt] at (t1) {};
\node[circle, fill=black,inner sep=0pt, minimum size=5pt] at (t2) {};
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\draw[thick, dotted] let \p1=(t1) in (-12,\y1) node (v1) {$\bullet$} -- (7,\y1);
\draw[thick, dotted] let \p1=(t2) in (-12,\y1) node (v2) {$\bullet$} -- (7,\y1);
\draw[thick, dotted] let \p1=(t3) in (-12,\y1) node (v3) {$\bullet$} -- (7,\y1);
\draw[thick, dotted] let \p1=(t0) in (-12,\y1) node (v0) {$\bullet$} -- (7,\y1);
\draw[thick, dotted] let \p1=(t4) in (-12,\y1) node (v4) {$\bullet$} -- (7,\y1);
\draw[thick, dotted] let \p1=(t5) in (-12,\y1) node (v5) {$\bullet$} -- (7,\y1);
\node[left] at (v1) {$v_1$};
\node[left] at (v2) {$v_2$};
\node[left] at (v3) {$v_3$};
\node[left] at (v0) {$v_0$};
\node[left] at (v4) {$v_4$};
\node[left] at (v5) {$v_5$};
\draw[thick] (v0.center) to (v1.center) to (v2.center) to (v3.center) to [bend left] (v0.center);
\draw[thick] (v3.center) to (v4.center) to (v5.center) to [bend right] (v2.center);
\draw[thick] (v4.center) to[bend left] (v1.center);
\end{tikzpicture}
\caption{Initial part of a tree $\bS$ coding $\mathcal{H}_3$ maximally branching subject to TFC}
\end{figure}
\end{center}
The trees of the form $\bS$ are almost what is needed.
However, in order to procure the full extent of the Ramsey theorems needed,
it is necessary to work with stretched versions of $\bS$ which are skew.
This means that each level has at most one of either a node which splits or a coding node.
Call the set of nodes which are either coding or splitting the set of {\em critical nodes}.
Let $\bT$ denote a skewed version of $\bS$, so that its coding nodes are dense in $\bT$ and code $\mathcal{H}_3$.
Let $\mathcal{T}(\bT)$ denote the collection of all subtrees of $\bT$ which are isomorphic to $\bT$.
Thus, every tree in $\mathcal{T}(\bT)$ codes $\mathcal{H}_3$.
Similarly to the notation for the Milliken space in Definition \ref{defn.milliken} and following,
let $r_k(T)$ denote the first $k$ levels of $T$;
thus $r_k(T)$ contains a total of $k$ critical nodes.
$r_{k+1}[r_k(T),T]$ denotes the set of all $r_{k+1}(S)$, where $r_k(S)=r_k(T)$ and $S$ is a subtree of $T$ in $\mathcal{T}(\bT)$.
The following is the analogue of the Halpern-\Lauchli\ Theorem for strong coding trees.
\begin{thm}[Dobrinen, \cite{DobrinenH_317}]\label{thm.A.4}
Let $\bT$ be a strong coding tree, $T\in\mathcal{T}(\bT)$, $k<\om$, and $c$ be a coloring of $r_{k+1}[r_k(T),T]$ into two colors.
Then there is an $S\in [r_k(T),T]$ such that all members of $r_{k+1}[r_k(T),S]$ have the same $c$-color.
\end{thm}
The case when the maximal critical node in $r_{k+1}(T)$ is a splitting node is significantly simpler to handle than when it is a coding node, so we present that forcing here.
Enumerate the maximal nodes of $r_{k+1}(T)$ as $\lgl s_i:i\le d\rgl$, and let $s_d$ denote the splitting node.
Let $i_0$ denote the index such that $s_{i_0}\in \{0\}^{<\om}$.
For each $i\ne i_0$, let $T_i=\{t\in T:t\contains s_i\}$;
let $T_{i_0}={0}^{<\om}$.
Let $L$ denote the set of levels $l$ such that there is a splitting node at level $l$ in $T_d$.
Let $\bP$ be the set of conditions $p$ such that
$p$ is a function
of the form
$$
p:\{d\}\cup(d\times\vec{\delta}_p)\ra T\re l_p,
$$
where $\vec{\delta}_p\in[\kappa]^{<\om}$ and $l_p\in L$,
such that
\begin{enumerate}
\item[(i)]
$p(d)$ is {\em the} splitting node extending $s_d$ at level $l_p$;
\item [(ii)]
For each $i<d$,
$\{p(i,\delta) : \delta\in \vec{\delta}_p\}\sse T_i\re l_p$.
\end{enumerate}
\vskip.1in
The partial
ordering on $\bP$ is defined as follows:
$q\le p$ if and only if either
\begin{enumerate}
\item
$l_q=l_p$ and $q\contains p$ (so also $\vec{\delta}_q\contains\vec{\delta}_p$);
or else
\item
$l_q>l_p$, $\vec{\delta}_q\contains \vec{\delta}_p$, and
\begin{enumerate}
\item[(i)]
$q(d)\supset p(d)$,
and for each $\delta\in\vec{\delta}_p$ and $i<d$,
$q(i,\delta)\supset p(i,\delta)$;
\item[(ii)]
Whenever $(\al_0,\dots,\al_{d-1})$ is a strictly increasing sequence in $(\vec{\delta}_p)^d$ and
\begin{equation}
r_k(T)\cup\{p(i,\al_i):i<d\}\cup \{p(d)\}\in
r_{k+1}[r_k(T),T],
\end{equation}
then also
\begin{equation}
r_k(T)\cup \{q(i,\al_i):i<d\}\cup \{q(d)\}\in
r_{k+1}[r_k(T),T].
\end{equation}
\end{enumerate}
\end{enumerate}
The proof proceeds in a similar manner to that of Theorem \ref{thm.matrixHL}, except that the name for an ultrafilter $\dot{\mathcal{U}}$ is now on $L$ and
there is much checking that certain criteria are met so that the tree being chosen by the forcing will actually again be a member of $\mathcal{T}(\bT)$.
The actual theorem needed to obtain the finite big Ramsey degrees for $\mathcal{H}_3$ is more involved; the statement above appears as a remark after Theorem 22 in \cite{DobrinenH_317}.
It is presented here in the hope that the reader will see the similarity with Harrington's forcing proof.
\section{Halpern-\Lauchli\ Theorem on trees of uncountable height and applications}\label{sec.measurable}
The Halpern-\Lauchli\ Theorem can be extended to trees of certain uncountable heights.
Here, we present some of the known results and their applications to uncountable homogeneous relational structures, as well as some open problems in this area.
The first extension of the Halpern-\Lauchli\ Theorem to uncountable height trees is due to Shelah.
In fact,
he proved a
strengthening of Milliken's Theorem, where level sets of size $m$, for a fixed positive integer $m$, are the objects being colored; this includes strong trees with $k$ levels when $m=2^k$, as strong trees can be recovered from the meet closures of their maximal nodes.
Shelah's theorem was strengthened to all $m$-sized antichains in \cite{Dzamonja/Larson/MitchellQ09}.
This is the version presented here.
The definition of {\em strong embedding} in the setting of uncountable height trees is an augmented analogue of Definition \ref{def.Sauer}
for countable height trees,
with the additional requirement that
a fixed well-ordering $\prec$ on the nodes in $2^{<\kappa}$
is also preserved.
A {\em strong subtree} of $2^{<\kappa}$ is a subtree $S\sse 2^{<\kappa}$ such that there is
a set of levels $L\sse\kappa$ of cardinality $\kappa$
and the splitting nodes in $S$ are exactly those with length in $L$.
In particular, if $e:2^{<\kappa}\ra 2^{<\kappa}$ is a strong embedding, then
the image $e[2^{<\kappa}]$ is a strong subtree of $2^{<\kappa}$.
For a node $w$ in a strong tree, Cone$(w)$ denotes the set of all nodes in the tree extending $w$.
The proof of the following theorem
is an elaborate forcing proof,
having as its base
ideas from Harrington's forcing proof of Theorem \ref{thm.matrixHL}.
\begin{thm}[Shelah, \cite{Shelah91}; \Dzamonja, Larson, and Mitchell, \cite{Dzamonja/Larson/MitchellQ09}]\label{thm.Shelah}
Suppose that $m<\om$ and $\kappa$ is a cardinal which is measurable in the generic extension obtained by adding $\lambda$ many Cohen subsets of $\kappa$,
where $\lambda\ra(\kappa)^{2m}_{2^{\kappa}}$.
Then for any coloring $d$ of the $m$-element
antichains of $2^{<\kappa}$ into $\sigma<\kappa$ colors, and for any well-ordering $\prec$ of the levels of $2^{<\kappa}$,
there is a strong embedding $e:2^{<\kappa}\ra 2^{<\kappa}$ and a dense set of elements $w$ such that
\begin{enumerate}
\item
$e(s)\prec e(t)$ for all $s\prec t$ from Cone$(w)$, and
\item
$d(e[A])=d(e[B])$ for all $\prec$-similar $m$-element antichains $A$ and $B$ of Cone$(w)$.
\end{enumerate}
\end{thm}
A model of ZFC in which the hypothesis of the theorem holds may be obtained by starting in a model of ZFC + GCH + $\exists$ a $(\kappa+2m+2)$-strong cardinal, as was shown by Woodin (unpublished).
A cardinal $\kappa$ is {\em $(\kappa +d)$-strong} if there is an elementary embedding $j:V\ra M$ with critical point $\kappa$ such that $V_{\kappa+d}=M_{\kappa+d}$.
Theorem \ref{thm.Shelah} is applied in two papers of D\v{z}amonja, Larson, and Mitchell to prove that
the $\kappa$-rationals and the $\kappa$-Rado graph have finite big Ramsey degrees.
The $\kappa$-rationals, $\mathbb{Q}_{\kappa}=(Q,\le_Q)$, is the strongly $\kappa$-dense linear order of size $\kappa$.
The nodes in the tree $2^{<\kappa}$ ordered by $<_Q$ produces the $\kappa$-rationals,
where $<_Q$ is the same ordering as in Definition \ref{def.Devlin} applied to the tree $2^{<\kappa}$.
\begin{thm}[\Dzamonja, Larson, and Mitchell,
\cite{Dzamonja/Larson/MitchellQ09}]
In any model of ZFC in which $\kappa$ is measurable after adding $\beth_{\kappa+\om}$ many Cohen subsets to $\kappa$,
for any fixed positive integer $m$, given any coloring of
of $[\mathbb{Q}_{\kappa}]^m$ into less than $\kappa$ colors, there is a subset $Q^*\sse Q$ such that
$\mathbb{Q}^*=(Q^*,\le_Q)$ is also a strongly $\kappa$ dense linear order, and
such that the members of $[\mathbb{Q}^*]^m$ take only finitely many colors.
Moreover, for each strong similarity type, all members in $[\mathbb{Q}^*]^m$ with that similarity type have the same color.
\end{thm}
As each similarity type persists in every smaller copy of the $\kappa$-rationals,
the strong similarity types provide the exact finite big Ramsey degree for
colorings of $[\mathbb{Q}_{\kappa}]^m$.
The {\em $\kappa$-Rado graph}, $\mathcal{R}_{\kappa}$, is the random graph on $\kappa$ many vertices.
Similarly to the coding of the Rado graph using nodes in the tree $2^{<\om}$ in Section \ref{sec.Sauer},
the $\kappa$-Rado graph can be coded using nodes in $2^{<\kappa}$.
Analogously to Sauer's use of Milliken's Theorem to prove that the Rado graph has finite big Ramsey degrees,
Theorem \ref{thm.Shelah} was an integral part in the proof obtaining finite bounds for colorings of all copies of a given finite graph inside $\mathcal{R}_{\kappa}$.
\begin{thm}[\Dzamonja, Larson, and Mitchell,
\cite{Dzamonja/Larson/MitchellRado09}]
In any model of ZFC with a cardinal $\kappa$ which is measurable after adding $\beth_{\kappa+\om}$
many Cohen subsets of $\kappa$,
for any finite graph $\G$
there is a finite number $r^+_{\G}$ such that
for any coloring of the copies of $\G$ in $\mathcal{R}_{\kappa}$ into less than $\kappa$ many colors,
there is a subgraph $\mathcal{R}'_{\kappa}$ which is also a $\kappa$-Rado graph
in which the copies of $\G$ take on at most $r^+_{\G}$ many colors.
\end{thm}
The number $r^+_{\G}$ is the number of strong similarity types of subtrees of $2^{<\kappa}$ which code a copy of $\G$; recall that in the uncountable context, the fixed linear ordering on the nodes in $2^{<\kappa}$ is a part of the description of strong similarity type.
\Dzamonja, Larson, and Mitchell showed that for any graph $\G$ with more than two vertices, this number $r^+_{\G}$ is strictly greater than the
Ramsey degree for the same graph $\G$ inside the Rado graph.
They conclude \cite{Dzamonja/Larson/MitchellRado09} with the following question.
\begin{question}[\cite{Dzamonja/Larson/MitchellRado09}]
What is the large cardinal strength of the conclusion of Theorem \ref{thm.Shelah}?
\end{question}
The Halpern-\Lauchli\ Theorem for more than one tree can also be extended to uncountable height trees.
Hathaway and the author considered in \cite{Dobrinen/Hathaway16}
direct analogues
of the Halpern-\Lauchli\ Theorem to more than one tree of uncountable height, also considering trees with infinite branching.
A tree $T \subseteq {^{<\kappa}\kappa}$
is a {\em $\kappa$-tree} if $T$ has cardinality $\kappa$ and every level of $T$ has cardinality less than $\kappa$.
We shall say that a tree
$T \subseteq {^{<\kappa}\kappa}$ is
{\em regular} if it is a perfect
$\kappa$-tree in which every maximal branch has
cofinality $\kappa$.
For $\zeta < \kappa$,
let
$T(\zeta) = T \cap {^\zeta \kappa}$.
Given a regular tree $T \subseteq {^{<\kappa} \kappa}$,
tree $S \subseteq T$
is called a {\em strong subtree} of $T$ if $S$ is regular and there is some set of levels
$L \subseteq \kappa$ cofinal in $\kappa$
such that for each $s\in S$,
\begin{enumerate}
\item
$s$ splits if and only if $t$ has length $\zeta\in L$, and
\item
for each $\zeta\in L$ and $s\in S(\zeta)$,
$s$ is maximally branching in $T$.
\end{enumerate}
\begin{defn}
Let $\delta, \sigma > 0$ be ordinals
and $\kappa$ be an infinite cardinal.
$\textrm{HL}(\delta,\sigma,\kappa)$
is the following statement:
Given any sequence
$\langle T_i \subseteq {^{<\kappa}\kappa} :
i < \delta \rangle$
of regular trees and a coloring
$$
c:\bigcup_{\zeta<\kappa}\prod_{i<\delta} T_i(\zeta)\ra\sigma,
$$
there exists a sequence of trees
$\langle S_i : i < \delta \rangle$ and $L\in[\kappa]^{\kappa}$
such that
\begin{enumerate}
\item
each $S_i$ is a strong subtree of $T_i$
as witnessed by $L\subseteq \kappa$,
and
\item
there is some $\sigma' < \sigma$
such that
$c$ has color $\sigma'$ on $\bigcup_{\zeta\in L}\prod_{i<\delta} S_i(\zeta)$.
\end{enumerate}
\end{defn}
\begin{thm}[Dobrinen and Hathaway, \cite{Dobrinen/Hathaway16}]\label{thm.DH}
Let $d\ge 1$ be any finite integer and suppose that $\kappa$ is a $(\kappa+d)$-strong cardinal in a model $V$ of ZFC satisfying GCH.
Then there is a forcing extension in which $\kappa$ remains measurable and HL$(d,\sigma,\kappa)$ holds, for all $\sigma<\kappa$.
\end{thm}
A direct lifting of the proof in
Theorem \ref{thm.matrixHL} would yield Theorem \ref{thm.DH}, but at the expense of assuming a $(\kappa +2d)$-strong cardinal.
In order to bring the large cardinal strength down
to a $(\kappa+d)$-strong cardinal,
Hathaway and the author combined the method of proof in Theorem \ref{thm.matrixHL}
with ideas from the proof of the Halpern-\Lauchli\ Theorem in \cite{Farah/TodorcevicBK}, using the measurability of $\kappa$ where the methods in
\cite{Farah/TodorcevicBK}
would not directly lift.
It is known that a $(\kappa+d)$-strong
cardinal is necessary to obtain a model of ZFC in which $\kappa$ is measurable after adding $\kappa^{+d}$ many new Cohen subsets of $\kappa$.
Thus, it is intriguing as to whether or not this is the actual consistency strength of the Halpern-\Lauchli\ Theorem for $d$ trees at a measurable cardinal, or if there is some other means for obtaining HL$(d,\sigma,\kappa)$ at a measurable cardinal $\kappa$.
\begin{problem}[\cite{Dobrinen/Hathaway16}]\label{problem.constrength}
Find the exact consistency strength of HL$(d,\sigma,\kappa)$ for $\kappa$ a measurable cardinal, $d$ a positive integer, and $\sigma<\kappa$.
\end{problem}
We remark that a model of ZFC with a strongly inaccessible cardinal $\kappa$ where HL$(d,2,\kappa)$
fails for some $d\ge 1$ is not known at this time.
We also point out that the use of $\delta$ in the definition of HL$(\delta,\sigma,\kappa)$, rather than just $d$,
is in reference to the fact that a
theorem
similar to Theorem \ref{thm.DH} is proved in \cite{Dobrinen/Hathaway16} for infinitely many trees, a result which is of interest in choiceless models of ZF.
It is open whether there is a model of ZF in which the measurable cardinal remains measurable after adding the amount of Cohen subsets of $\kappa$.
See \cite{Dobrinen/Hathaway16} for this and other open problems.
Various weaker forms of the Halpern-\Lauchli\ Theorem were also investigated in \cite{Dobrinen/Hathaway16}.
The {\em somewhere dense Halpern-\Lauchli\ Theorem}, SDHL$(\delta,\sigma,\kappa)$,
is the version where it is only required to find levels $l<l'<\kappa$, nodes $t_i\in T_i(l)$,
and sets $S_i\sse T_i(l')$ such that each immediate successor of $t_i$ in $T_i$ is extended by a unique member of $S_i$,
and all sequences in $\prod_{i<\delta} S_i$ have the same color.
\begin{thm}[Dobrinen and Hathaway, \cite{Dobrinen/Hathaway16}]
For a weakly compact cardinal $\kappa$ and ordinals $0<\delta,\sigma<\kappa$,
SDHL$(\delta,\sigma,\kappa)$ holds if and only if
HL$(\delta,\sigma,\kappa)$.
\end{thm}
Very recently, Zhang extended Laver's Theorem \ref{thm.Laver}
to the uncountable setting.
First, he proved a strengthened version of Theorem \ref{thm.DH}, though using a stronger large cardinal hypothesis.
Then he applied it to prove the following.
\begin{thm}[Zhang, \cite{Zhang17}]\label{thm.Zhang}
Suppose that $\kappa$ is a cardinal which is measurable
after forcing to add $\lambda$ many Cohen subsets of $\kappa$, where
$\lambda$ satisfies the partition relation
$\lambda\ra(\kappa)^{2d}_{2^{\kappa}}$.
Then for any coloring of the product of $d$ many copies of $\mathbb{Q}_{\kappa}$ into less than $\kappa$ many colors,
there are copies $Q_i$, $i<d$, of $\mathbb{Q}_{\kappa}$ such that the coloring takes on at most $(d+1)!$ colors on $\prod_{i<d}Q_i$.
Moreover, $(d+1)!$ is optimal.
\end{thm}
As discussed previously, it is consistent with a $(\kappa +2d)$-strong cardinal to have a model where $\kappa$ satisfies the hypothesis of Theorem
\ref{thm.Zhang}.
Zhang asked whether the conclusion of this theorem is a consequence of some large cardinal hypothesis.
The author asks the following possibly easier question.
\begin{question}
Is a $(\kappa+d)$-strong cardinal sufficient to produce a model in which
the conclusion of Theorem \ref{thm.Zhang}
holds?
\end{question}
In \cite{Dobrinen/Hathaway16}, it was proved in ZFC that HL$(1,k,\kappa)$ holds for each positive integer $k$ and each weakly compact cardinal $\kappa$.
This was recently extended by Zhang in \cite{Zhang17}
to colorings into less than $\kappa$ many colors; moreover, he proved this for a stronger asymmetric version.
Furthermore, Zhang showed that relative to the existence of a measurable cardinal, it is possible to have HL$(1,\delta,\kappa)$ hold where $\kappa$ is a strongly inaccessible cardinal which is not weakly compact.
Still, the following basic question remains open.
\begin{question}
Is it true in ZFC that if $\kappa$ is strongly inaccessible, then HL$(1,\delta,\kappa)$ holds, for some (or all) $\delta$ with $2\le\delta<\kappa$?
\end{question}
Mapping out all the implications between the various forms of the Halpern-\Lauchli\ Theorem
at uncountable cardinals, their applications to homogeneous relational structures, and their relative consistency strengths
is an area ripe for further exploration.
\bibliographystyle{amsplain}
| {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaArXiv"
} | 1,851 |
\section{\label{sec:level1}Introduction}
The observed neutrino oscillation phenomenon, the origin of the idea behind the massive nature of neutrinos, has been one of the most appealing evidences to expect physics beyond standard model (BSM). Neutrino oscillation probabilities are dependent on the three mixing angles,the neutrino mass-squared differences ($\Delta m_{21}^{2}$, $\Delta m_{31}^{2}$) and the Dirac CP phase ($\delta_{CP}$). Though there are precise measurements of the mixing angles and mass squared differences, yet there are no conclusive remarks on ($\delta_{CP}$) or the mass ordering of the neutrinos. NO$\nu$A \cite{PhysRevD.98.032012} and T2K \cite{Abe:2015awa} experiments have recently provided hint towards the CP violation in Dirac neutrino matrix. Again, another important unsolved issue is the mass ordering of the neutrinos whether it is normal ($m_{1}<m_{2}<m_{3}$) or inverted ($m_{3}<m_{1}<m_{2}$). There are some other open questions in particle physics as well as cosmology such as CP violation in lepton sector, baryon asymmetry of the universe and particle nature of dark matter. Motivated by these shortcomings, different beyond standard model (BSM) theories \cite{Mohapatra:1980yp} are pursued in different experiments.
Many searches for new physics beyond standard model are going on in different experiments. Charged lepton flavor violating (cLFV) processes can provide a way to search for new physics beyond standard model. cLFV processes are heavily suppressed in the standard model . However, the well established neutrino oscillation phenomenon give a signal towards the flavor violation in the charged lepton sector also. There are present and planned experiments to search for lepton flavor violating radiative decay ($l_{i}\longrightarrow l_{j}\gamma$)\cite{Bernstein:2013hba} and also three body decays ($l_{i}\longrightarrow l_{j}l_{k}l_{k}$) \cite{Mihara:2013zna}. The present and future experimental constraints on cLFV processes can be found in table \ref{tab1a} and \ref{tab1b} . In this work, we study the transition among the three charged leptons. However, the transitions of muon such as $\mu-e,N$, $\mu\longrightarrow eee$, $\mu\longrightarrow e\gamma$ \cite{Lindner:2016bgg,Bertl:2006up} and recently proposed $\mu^{-}e^{-}\longrightarrow e^{-}e^{-}$ \cite{PhysRevLett.105.121601} are extensively analyzed as the parent particle is substantially available in the cosmic radiation as well as in dedicated accelerators\cite{Calibbi:2017uvl}. Many other challenging cLFV processes are those which involve the third family of leptons (taus) as it opens many flavor violating channels. Among these $\tau\longrightarrow e\gamma$, $\tau\longrightarrow \mu\gamma$, $\tau\longrightarrow 3e$ and $\tau\longrightarrow 3\mu$ are significant. The processes involving taus also open up many channels involving hadrons in the final state such as $\tau\longrightarrow l\pi^{0}$ , $\tau\longrightarrow l\pi^{+}\pi^{-}$\cite{Calibbi:2017uvl,Hayasaka:2010np} .
\begin{table}[H]
\centering
\begin{tabular}{|c|c|c|}
\hline
cLFV Process & Present Bound & Future sensitivity \\
\hline
$\mu\longrightarrow eee$ & $1.0\times10^{-12}$& $\sim 10^{-16}$ \\
$\mu\longrightarrow e\gamma$ &$5.7\times10^{-13}$& $6.0\times10^{-14}$ \\
$\tau\longrightarrow e\gamma$ & $3.3\times10^{-8}$& $\sim 3\times10^{-9}$ \\
$\tau\longrightarrow \mu\gamma$& $4.4\times10^{-8}$& $\sim 10^{-9}$ \\
$\tau\longrightarrow eee$& $2.7\times10^{-8}$& $\sim 10^{-9}$\\
\hline
\end{tabular}
\caption{Current experimental bounds and future sensitivities for different cLFV
processes.\cite{TheMEG:2016wtm,Aubert:2009ag,Bellgardt:1987du,Hayasaka:2010np}}\label{tab1a}
\end{table}
\begin{table}[H]
\centering
\begin{tabular}{|c|c|}
\hline
cLFV Process & Experimental Bound \\
\hline
$(\mu - e,Au)$ & $7\times10^{-13}$\\
$(\mu - e,Al)$ & $3\times10^{-12}$\\
\hline
\end{tabular}
\caption{Experimental bounds for the
processes CR $(\mu - e,N)$. \cite{Bertl:2006up,Bellgardt:1987du}}\label{tab1b}
\end{table}
There are various theoretical models which are the extension of SM that can account for cLFV processes \cite{Deppisch:2004fa,Ilakovac:1994kj,Abada:2016vzu}. These models usually introduce new particle fields to act as a source of flavor violation. The models with heavy sterile neutrinos can provide prominent contributions to cLFV processes. There are many theoretical motivations as well as experimental background for the existence of sterile neutrinos. The anomalies of the LSND \cite{Athanassopoulos:1997pv} and MiniBooNE \cite{Aguilar-Arevalo:2018gpe} results provide a hint towards the presence of one or two sterile neutrino states. Again from the theoretical point of view, the addition of sterile fermions into the standard model can explain the neutrino mass and also mixing \cite{Naumov:2019kwm}. Moreover, sterile neutrino can account for many cosmological observations like dark matter \cite{Gautam:2019pce,Adhikari:2016bei,Dolgov:2000ew,Hamann:2011ge,Dodelson:1993je} and baryon asymmetry of universe (BAU) \cite{Lucente:2016vru,Gautam:2020wsd}. Furthermore, their mixing with the active neutrinos can contribute to certain non-oscillation processes like neutrino-less double decay (0$\nu\beta\beta$) amplitude or in beta decay spectra in the KATRIN experiment \cite{Abada:2018qok,Abazajian:2017tcc}.
To study the effect of sterile neutrino on low scale processes, we have chosen minimal extended seesaw (MES) framework augmented with $\Delta(96)$ flavor symmetry. In MES framework, three right-handed neutrinos and one additional gauge singlet field S are added to the SM particle content \cite{Zhang:2011vh,Barry:2011wb}. The extra sterile state may have significant contribution to cLFV processes and 0$\nu\beta\beta$ depending on its mass and mixing with the active neutrinos in the model. In the present work, $C_{2}$ and $C_{3}$ discrete groups are introduced along with $\Delta(96)$ to avoid the unwanted couplings among the particles. The mass matrices constructed in the MES model embedded with $\Delta(96)$ flavor symmetry lead to a particular mixing pattern widely known as $\text{TM}_{1}$ mixing \cite{Luhn:2013lkn}. $\text{TM}_{1}$ mixing is one of the most significant mixing pattern which comply with the experimental predictions mixing angles and Dirac CP phase. In the present work, after constructing the mass matrices leading to $\text{TM}_{1}$ mixing, the model parameters have been evaluated using three neutrino oscillation parameters and then mass and mixing of the particles are calculated as a function of these model parameters. Further, we have evaluated different observables characterizing the different cLFV processes and neutrinoless double beta decay (0$\nu\beta\beta$).
The paper is planned as follows. In section \ref{sec:level2}, we describe the $\text{TM}_{1}$ mixing and the model with $\Delta(96)$ flavor symmetry. The particles are assigned with different charges under the symmetry group and the mass matrices involved in the model are constructed. Section \ref{sec:level3} is the brief discussion of different cLFV processes and contribution of sterile neutrinos in such processes. In section \ref{sec:level4}, we briefly discuss about neutrinoless double beta decay process in presence of heavy sterile neutrinos. The results of the numerical analysis are discussed in detail in section \ref{sec:level5}. Finally, we conclude in section \ref{sec:level6}.
\section{\label{sec:level2} Minimal Extended Seesaw with $\Delta(96)$ flavor symmetry with $\text{TM}_{1}$ mixing}
\subsection{The MES Framework}
Minimal Extended Seesaw (MES) is the extension of canonical type-I seesaw by the addition of extra gauge singlet field, $\nu_{s}$ to accommodate sterile neutrinos. This field has a coupling with the heavy right handed neutrino fields that are present in type-I seesaw \cite{Zhang:2011vh,Nath:2016mts,Das:2018qyt}. Thus the Lagrangian in this MES model can be obtained as \cite{Zhang:2011vh},
\begin{equation}\label{eq:1}
-\mathcal{L} = \bar{\nu_{L}}M_{D} N + \frac{1}{2} N^{c}M_{R}N + \bar{S}M_{S}N + h.c
\end{equation}
Subsequently, the mass matrix arising from the Lagrangian in Eq.(\ref{eq:1}) in the basis $(\nu_{L},N^{c},S^{c})$ can be written as,
\begin{equation}
M_{\nu}^{7\times7}=\left(\begin{array}{ccc}
0 & M_{D}& 0 \\
{M_{D}}^{T} & M_{R} &M_{S}^{T} \\
0 & M_{S} & 0
\end{array}\right)
\label{massmatrix}
\end{equation}
Since the right-handed neutrinos are much heavier than the electroweak scale as in case of type-I seesaw, they should be decoupled at low scales. Effectively,
the full $7\times7$ matrix can be block diagonalised into a $4\times4$ neutrino
mass matrix as follows \cite{Zhang:2011vh},
\begin{equation}\label{massmatrix1}
M_{\nu}^{4\times4}=-\left(\begin{array}{ccc}
M_{D}{M_{R}}^{-1}{M_{D}}^{T} & M_{D}{M_{R}}^{-1}{M_{S}}^{T} \\
M_{S}({M_{R}}^{-1})^{T}{M_{D}}^{T} & M_{S}{M_{R}}^{-1}{M_{S}}^{T}
\end{array}\right)
\end{equation}
Assuming $M_{S}>M_{D}$, the active neutrino mass matrix of Eq.(\ref{massmatrix1}) takes the form as,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:1bb}
M_{\nu}\simeq M_{D}M_{R}^{-1}M_{S}^{T}(M_{S}M_{R}^{-1}M_{S}^{T})^{-1}M_{S}M_{R}^{-1}M_{D}^{T}-M_{D}M_{R}^{-1}M_{D}^{T}
\end{equation}
The sterile neutrino mass can be obtained as,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:1a}
m_{4}\simeq M_{S}M_{R}^{-1}M_{S}^{T}
\end{equation}
The charged lepton mass matrix in general can be diagonalised using unitary matrices $U_{L}$ and $U_{R}$ as follows ,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:1cc}
U_{L}M_{l}U_{R}^{\dagger}= \text{diag}(m_{e},m_{\mu},m_{\tau})
\end{equation}
Again, we obtain the light neutrino masses using unitary matrix $U_{\nu}$ as,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:1ee}
U_{\nu}^{\dagger}M_{\nu}^{3\times3}U_{\nu}= \text{diag}(m_{1},m_{2},m_{3})
\end{equation}
The $4\times4$ neutrino mixing matrix in MES model using $U_{L}$ and $U_{\nu}$ can be obtained as \cite{Krishnan:2020xeq} ,
\begin{equation}
V =\left(\begin{array}{ccc}
U_{L}(1-\frac{1}{2} R R^{\dagger})U_{\nu} & U_{L} R \\
- R^{\dagger}U_{\nu} & 1-\frac{1}{2} R^{\dagger} R
\end{array}\right)
\label{massmatrix2}
\end{equation}
The matrix $U_{L}R$ governs the active-sterile mixing in which R can be expressed as,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:1b}
R = M_{D}M_{R}^{-1}M_{S}^{T}(M_{S}M_{R}^{-1}M_{S}^{T})^{-1}
\end{equation}
and,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:1c}
U_{L}R = \text{diag}(U_{e4},U_{\mu 4},U_{\tau 4})^{T}
\end{equation}
Finally, the $3\times3$ lepton mixing matrix (PMNS) can be written as \cite{Krishnan:2020xeq},
\begin{equation}\label{eq:1f}
U_{PMNS} = U_{L}(1-\frac{1}{2} R R^{\dagger})U_{\nu}
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}\label{eq:1ff}
U_{PMNS}\simeq U_{L}U_{\nu}
\end{equation}
Thus PMNS matrix can be obtained by multiplying the diagonalising matrix of charged lepton mixing matrix and that of the effective seesaw matrix. $U_{L}$ is identity matrix in the framework where charged lepton mass matrix is diagonal.
\subsection{$TM_{1}$ Mixing}
Trimaximal ($TM_{1}$) mixing is a mixing ansatz that preserves the first column of tri-bimaximal mixing $U_{TBM}$ and mixes its second and third columns. It is a perturbation to TBM mixing and we can write the mixing matrix as \cite{King:2019vhv,Luhn:2013lkn,Chakraborty:2020gqc},
\begin{equation}
U_{{TM_{1}}}=U_{\text{TBM}}\left(\begin{array}{ccc}
1&0& 0\\
0& \cos{\theta} & \sin{\theta}e^{-i\zeta} \\
0 & -\sin{\theta}e^{i\zeta}& \cos{\theta}
\end{array}\right)
\label{matrixTM}
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}
U_{{TM_{1}}}=\left(\begin{array}{ccc}
\frac{\sqrt{2}}{\sqrt{3}}&\frac{\cos{\theta}}{\sqrt{3}}& \frac{\sin{\theta}}{\sqrt{3}}e^{-i\zeta}\\
\frac{-1}{\sqrt{6}}&\frac{\cos{\theta}}{\sqrt{3}}-\frac{\sin{\theta}}{\sqrt{2}}e^{i\zeta}& \frac{\sin{\theta}}{\sqrt{3}}e^{-i\zeta}+\frac{\cos{\theta}}{\sqrt{2}}\\
\frac{-1}{\sqrt{6}}&\frac{\cos{\theta}}{\sqrt{3}}+\frac{\sin{\theta}}{\sqrt{2}}e^{i\zeta}& \frac{\sin{\theta}}{\sqrt{3}}e^{-i\zeta}-\frac{\cos{\theta}}{\sqrt{2}}
\end{array}\right)
\label{matrixTM1}
\end{equation}
Comparing above mixing matrix in Eq.(\ref{matrixTM1}) with the standard PMNS mixing matrix, one can obtain the three mixing angles in terms of $\theta$ as follows \cite{Krishnan:2019xmk}:
\begin{align}
\sin^2{\theta_{13}}&= \frac{\sin^2{\theta}}{3} \\
\sin^2{\theta_{23}}&= \frac{1}{2} \left(1+\frac{\sqrt{6}\sin{2\theta}\cos{\zeta}}{3-\sin^2{\theta}}\right)\\
\sin^2{\theta_{12}}&= 1- \frac{2}{3-\sin^2{\theta}}\\
J_{\text{CP}} & = \frac{\sin{2\theta}\sin{\zeta}}{6 \sqrt{6}}
\end{align}
The Jarlskog's rephasing invariant $J_{\text{CP}}$ can be written in terms of the elements of the mixing matrix as,
\begin{align}\label{eq:2b}
J_{\text{CP}}& = \text{Im}(U_{\mu 3}U_{e 3}^{\ast}U_{e 2}U_{\mu 2}^{\ast})\nonumber \\
&=\frac{1}{8}\text{sin} \delta \text{sin}2\theta_{12}\text{sin}2\theta_{23}\text{sin}2\theta_{13}\text{cos}\theta_{13}
\end{align}
One can write the expression for the CP phase in the $TM_{1}$ scenario as,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:1d}
\sin^{2}\delta = \frac{8\text{sin}^{2}\theta_{13}(1-3\text{sin}^{2}\theta_{13})-\text{cos}^{4}\theta_{13}\text{cos}^{2}2\theta_{23}}{8\text{sin}^{2}\theta_{13}\text{sin}^{2}2\theta_{23}(1-3\text{sin}^{2}\theta_{13})}
\end{equation}
For a given $\theta_{13}(\theta)$, the $TM_{1}$ mixing with $\mu \text{-}\tau$ symmetry leads to maximal CP violation. Again it can be seen that if $\zeta = \pm \frac{\pi}{2}$ , $\theta_{23}= \frac{\pi}{4}$, which leads to$\mu \text{-}\tau$ symmetry.
\subsection{The Lagrangian}
In this work, we have used $\Delta (96)$ flavor symmetry \cite{Ding:2012xx,King:2012in,King:2013vna,Fonseca:2014koa} giving rise to unique textures of the mass matrices involved in the MES model. For a brief discussion about properties of $\Delta (96)$ ,its character table and tensor product rules please refer Appendix \ref{appen1}. $\Delta (96)$ symmetry is further augmented by $C_{2}$ ans $C_{3}$ discrete flavor symmetries to get rid of some unwanted interactions. The particle assignments in the model are shown in table \ref{tab1}.
In our MES model, the lepton doublets of the SM and the SM gauge singlets transform as triplets $3_{i}$ and $\bar{3_{i}}$ of $\Delta (96)$ respectively. The sterile neutrino and the three right-handed charged leptons transform as singlets under this symmetry group. We introduce flavons $\phi_{\mu}$,$\phi_{\tau}$,$\phi_{S}$ transforming as triplets $3_{i}$ while $\phi_{M}$,$\phi_{D}$ are triplet $3^{\prime}$ and $\phi_{Mi}$,$\phi_{Di}$ are $\bar{3_{i}^{\prime}}$ under $\Delta (96)$. These fields are also assigned various
charges under the $C_{2}$ and $C_{3}$ group which can be found in table \ref{tab1}
\begin{table}[H]
\centering
\begin{tabular}{|c|c|c|c|c|c|c|c|c|c|c|c|c|c|c|c|}
\hline
Field & $L$ & $e_{R}$ & $\mu_{R}$ & $\tau_{R}$ & N & S & $\phi_{\mu}$ &$\phi_{\tau}$ & $\phi_{M}$ & $\phi_{Mi}$ & $\phi_{D}$& $\phi_{Di}$ & $\phi_{S}$ \\
\hline
$\Delta(96)$ &$3_{i}$ & $1$& $1$ & $1$ & $\bar{3_{i}}$& $1$ &$3_{i}$ &$3_{i}$ & $3^{\prime}$ &$\bar{3_{i}^{\prime}}$ &$3^{\prime}$ & $\bar{3_{i}^{\prime}}$ &$3_{i}$ \\
\hline
$C_{3}$ & $1$ & $1$ &$\omega$& $\bar{\omega}$ & $1$ & $1$ & $\bar{\omega}$ &$\omega$&$1$&$1$ & $1$ & $1$ &$1$ \\
\hline
$C_{2}$& $1$ & $1$ & $1$ &$1$& $-1$ & $1$ & $1$ & $1$ &$1$ &$1$& $-1 $ & $-1$ & $-1 $ \\
\hline
$C_{3}$& $1$ & $1$ &$1$& $1$ & $1$ & $\omega$ & $1$ &$1$ & $1$ & $1$& $1$ & $1$& $\bar{\omega}$ \\
\hline
\end{tabular}
\caption{Fields and their respective transformations under the symmetry group of the model.} \label{tab1}
\end{table}
The Yukawa Lagrangian for the charged leptons and also for the neutrinos can be expressed as:
\begin{equation}
-\mathcal{L} = \mathcal{L}_{\mathcal{M_{L}}}+\mathcal{L}_{\mathcal{M_{D}}} + \mathcal{L}_{\mathcal{M}}+ \mathcal{L}_{\mathcal{M_{S}}}+ h.c
\end{equation}
$\mathcal{L}_{\mathcal{M_{D}}} $ represents Dirac neutrino Lagrangian given as,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:3}
\mathcal{L}_{\mathcal{M_{D}}} = \frac{y_{D}}{\Lambda}(\bar{L}N)_{3^{\prime}}\tilde{H} \phi_{D} + \frac{y_{Di}}{\Lambda}(\bar{L}N)_{3_{i}^{\prime}}\tilde{H} \phi_{Di}
\end{equation}
The neutrino Majorana mass term $\mathcal{L}_{\mathcal{M}}$ can be expressed as,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:4}
\mathcal{L}_{\mathcal{M}} = y_{M}(\bar{N^{c}}N)_{3^{\prime}} \phi_{M} + y_{Mi}(\bar{N^{c}}N)_{3_{i}^{\prime}}\phi_{Mi}
\end{equation}
The interactions between the sterile and the right handed neutrinos are involved in $\mathcal{L}_{\mathcal{M_{S}}}$.
\begin{equation} \label{eq:5}
\mathcal{L}_{\mathcal{M_{S}}} = y_{S}{\bar{{S}^{c}}}N\phi_{S}
\end{equation}
$ \mathcal{L}_{\mathcal{M_{L}}}$ is the Lagrangian for the charged leptons which can be written as
\begin{equation} \label{eq:6}
\mathcal{L}_{\mathcal{M_{L}}} = \frac{y_{\mu}}{\Lambda}\bar{L}H\phi_{\mu}\mu_{R}+\frac{y_{\tau}}{\Lambda}\bar{L}H\phi_{\tau}\tau_{R} +\frac{y_{e}}{\Lambda^{2}}\bar{L}H(\bar{\phi_{\tau}}\bar{\phi_{\mu}})_{3_{i}} e_{R}
\end{equation}
After Spontaneous Symmetry Breaking (SSB) , the scalar fields acquire VEV's which are assigned as:
\begin{equation} \label{eq:6a}
\langle \phi_{\mu} \rangle = v_{\mu}(1,\bar{\omega},\omega)^{T}, \; \langle \phi_{\tau} \rangle = v_{\tau}(1,\omega,\bar{\omega})^{T}, \;\langle \phi_{S} \rangle = (0,v_{S},-v_{S})$$
$$\langle\phi_{M} \rangle = v_{M}(1,1,1)^{T},\; \langle\phi_{Mi} \rangle = v_{Mi}(1,0,-1)^{T},\; \langle\phi_{D} \rangle = v_{D}(0,1,0)^{T},\; \langle\phi_{Di} \rangle = v_{Di}(1,0,-1)^{T}
\end{equation}
\subsection{The Mass Matrices involved in the Model}
The textures of the mass matrices involved in MES model can be obtained using flavon alignments defined with residual symmetries under our flavor group. With these flavon alignments mentioned above, we obtain the charged-lepton and the neutrino mass matrices.
In the charged lepton sector, $\bar{L}$ which couples to $l_{R} (l= e,\mu,\tau)$ through the flavon $\phi_{\mu}$ and $\phi_{\tau}$. Using the VEV's of the flavons and the Higgs in the Lagrangian given by Eq.(\ref{eq:6}) ,the charged lepton mass matrix can be written as,
\begin{equation} \label{eq:u1}
M_{C}= \frac{i \sqrt{3}v v_{\mu}v_{\tau}}{\Lambda^{2}}\left(\begin{array}{ccc}
y_{e} & 0 & 0\\
y_{e} & 0 & 0\\
y_{e} & 0 & 0
\end{array}\right) + \frac{v}{\Lambda}\left(\begin{array}{ccc}
0 & y_{\mu}v_{\mu} &y_{\tau}v_{\tau} \\
0 & \bar{\omega} y_{\mu}v_{\mu} & \omega y_{\tau}v_{\tau}\\
0 & \omega y_{\mu}v_{\mu} & \bar{\omega} y_{\tau}v_{\tau}
\end{array}\right)
\end{equation}
The charged lepton mass matrix $M_{C}$ is diagonalised using the unitary matrix $U_{L}$ given as,
\begin{equation} \label{eq:u6}
U_{L} = \frac{1}{\sqrt{3}}\left(\begin{array}{ccc}
1 & 1 & 1 \\
1 & \omega & \bar{\omega}\\
1 &\bar{\omega} & \omega
\end{array}\right)
\end{equation}
$U_{L}$ is referred to as the $3\times3$ trimaximal matrix (TM) or the magic matrix.
\begin{equation} \label{eq:u7}
U_{L} M_{C}\text{diag}(-i,1,1) = \text{diag}(m_{e},m_{\mu},m_{\tau})
\end{equation}
and we obtain the masses of the charged leptons as,
\begin{equation} \label{eq:u8}
m_{e} = 3 y_{e}v \frac{v_{\mu}v_{\tau}}{\Lambda^{2}} , m_{\mu} = \sqrt{3} y_{\mu}v \frac{v_{\mu}}{\Lambda} , m_{\tau} = \sqrt{3} y_{\tau}v \frac{v_{\tau}}{\Lambda}
\end{equation}
It is seen from Eq.(\ref{eq:u8}) that the mass scale of electron is suppressed by an additional factor $\frac{1}{\Lambda}$ compared to tau or muon mass similar to Froggatt-Nielsen mechanism of obtaining the mass hierarchy.
Again, from Eq.(\ref{eq:3}), we obtain the Dirac neutrino mass matrix as,
\begin{equation} \label{eq:u2}
M_{D}= \frac{v}{\Lambda}\left(\begin{array}{ccc}
0 & -y_{Di}v_{Di} & 0 \\
-y_{Di}v_{Di} & y_{D}v_{D} & y_{Di}v_{Di}\\
0 & y_{Di}v_{Di} & 0
\end{array}\right)
\end{equation}
Denoting $\frac{y_{D}v_{D}v}{\Lambda}= m_{D}$ and $\frac{y_{Di}v_{Di}}{y_{D}v_{D}}=r_{1}$, we rewrite the Dirac mass matrix in Eq.(\ref{eq:u2}) as,
\begin{equation} \label{eq:u22}
M_{D}= m_{D} \left(\begin{array}{ccc}
0 & -r_{1} & 0 \\
-r_{1} & 1 & r_{1}\\
0 & r_{1} & 0
\end{array}\right)
\end{equation}
$m_{D}$ has the dimension of mass similar to the order of the SM fermion masses and $ r_{1}$ is dimensionless.
The Majorana mass matrix for the heavy right-handed neutrinos can be obtained using the VEV's of $\phi_{M}$ and $\phi_{Mi}$ in Eq.(\ref{eq:4}) as,
\begin{equation} \label{eq:u3}
M_{R}= \left(\begin{array}{ccc}
y_{M}v_{M} & -y_{Mi}v_{Mi} & 0 \\
-y_{Mi}v_{Mi} &y_{M}v_{M} & y_{Mi}v_{Mi}\\
0 & y_{Mi}v_{Mi} & y_{M}v_{M}
\end{array}\right)
\end{equation}
Here also, we denote $y_{M}v_{M}= m_{R}$ and $\frac{y_{Mi}v_{Mi}}{y_{M}v_{M}}= r_{2}$ and rewrite the above matrix as,
\begin{equation} \label{eq:u33}
M_{R}= m_{R}\left(\begin{array}{ccc}
1 & -r_{2} & 0 \\
-r_{2} &1 & r_{2}\\
0 & r_{2}& 1
\end{array}\right)
\end{equation}
$m_{R}$ has the dimension of mass at the scale of flavon VEV and $ r_{2}$ is dimensionless.
Finally, we obtain the mass matrix representing the coupling between right handed neutrinos and sterile neutrino as,
\begin{equation} \label{eq:u4}
M_{S}= y_{S}v_{S} \left(\begin{array}{ccc}
0 & 1 & -1
\end{array}\right)
\end{equation}
or we can rewrite it as,
\begin{equation} \label{eq:u44}
M_{S}= m_{S} \left(\begin{array}{ccc}
0 & 1 & -1
\end{array}\right)
\end{equation}
where, $m_{S} = y_{S}v_{S}$ has the dimension of mass.
The light neutrino mass matrix in the framework of MES arising from the mass matrices in Eqs.(\ref{eq:u22},\ref{eq:u33},\ref{eq:u44}) can be written using Eq.(\ref{massmatrix1}) as:
\begin{equation} \label{eq:15}
M_{\nu}=\left(\begin{array}{ccc}
K_{1} & -K_{2} & -K_{1} \\
-K_{2} &K_{3}&K_{2}\\
-K_{1} &K_{2}& K_{1}
\end{array}\right)
\end{equation}
where,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:15a}
K_{1} = -\frac{m_{D}^{2}r_{1}^{2}}{m_{R}(2+ r_{2}-r_{2}^{2})}
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}\label{eq:15b}
K_{2} = \frac{m_{D}^{2}r_{1}(-1+r_{1}(-1+r_{2}))}{m_{R}(2+ r_{2}-r_{2}^{2})}
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}\label{eq:15c}
K_{3} = -\frac{m_{D}^{2}(1+3 r_{1}^{2} - 2 r_{1}(-1+r_{2}) )}{m_{R}(2+ r_{2}-r_{2}^{2})}
\end{equation}
The effective seesaw mass matrix in Eq.(\ref{eq:15}) can be diagonalised in two steps using the unitary matrix $U_{BM}$ and $U_{\theta}$ as,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:16}
U_{\theta}^{T}U_{BM}^{T}M_{\nu}U_{BM}U_{\theta}= \text{diag}(m_{1},m_{2},m_{3})
\end{equation}
or one may write,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:17a}
M_{\nu}= U_{BM}U_{\theta}\text{diag}(m_{1},m_{2},m_{3})U_{\theta}^{T}U_{BM}^{T}
\end{equation}
The matrix $U_{\theta}$ and the bimaximal matrix $U_{BM}$ in the Eq.(\ref{eq:16}) are given by,
\begin{equation} \label{eq:17}
U_{\theta}= \left(\begin{array}{ccc}
1 & 0 &0\\
0 & \text{cos}\theta & \text{sin}\theta\\
0 &-\text{sin}\theta&\text{cos}\theta
\end{array}\right),\; U_{BM} = \left(\begin{array}{ccc}
\frac{1}{\sqrt{2}} & 0 & -\frac{1}{\sqrt{2}} \\
0 & 1 & 0\\
\frac{1}{\sqrt{2}} & 0 &\frac{1}{\sqrt{2}}
\end{array}\right)
\end{equation}
Comparing Eq.(\ref{eq:16}) with Eq.(\ref{eq:1ee}), we can write the neutrino mixing matrix $U_{\nu}$ as,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:18}
U_{\nu} = U_{BM}U_{\theta}
\end{equation}
Therefore,using Eq.(\ref{eq:1ff}),the PMNS matrix in this model can be expressed as,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:19}
U_{PMNS} \simeq U_{L}U_{BM}U_{\theta}
\end{equation}
Here, $U_{L}U_{BM}$ is the tri-bimaximal (TBM) mixing matrix,$U_{TBM}$. The multiplication of $U_{TBM}$ and $U_{\theta}$ mixes the 2nd and the 3rd columns of $U_{TBM}$ resulting in $TM_{1}$ mixing matrix $U_{TM1}$. Our construction of $M_{\nu}$ given in Eq.(\ref{eq:15}) leading to $TM_{1}$ mixing implies that $m_{1}= 0$, which rules out inverted hierarchy. Using this in Eq.(\ref{eq:17a}) and comparing with Eq.(\ref{eq:15}), we can find the expressions for model parameters $K_{1}$,$K_{2}$ and $K_{3}$ in terms of the parameters $\theta$, $m_{2}$ and $m_{3}$ as,
\begin{equation}
K_{1} = \frac{1}{2}(m_{3}\text{cos}^{2}\theta+ m_{2}\text{sin}^{2}\theta)
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}
K_{2} = \frac{1}{\sqrt{2}}(m_{3}-m_{2})\text{cos}\theta\text{sin}\theta
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}
K_{3} = m_{2}\text{cos}^{2}\theta+ m_{3}\text{sin}^{2}\theta
\end{equation}
\subsection{Sterile Neutrino Mass and Mixing in the Model}
Apart from the active neutrinos, the mass and mixing of the sterile neutrino present in the model play crucial role in cLFV processes which will be discussed in the next section. As mentioned above, the sterile neutrino mass can be obtained using Eq.(\ref{eq:1a}) and we can write the mass term for sterile neutrino as,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:d1}
m_{4} = \frac{m_{S}^{2}(-2-2 r_{2} +2 r_{2}^{2})}{m_{R}(-1+2 r_{2}^{2})}
\end{equation}
The active-sterile mixing using Eq.(\ref{eq:1b}) and Eq.(\ref{eq:1c}) can be obtained as,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:d2}
U_{e4} = \frac{m_{D}(-1+r_{1}-r_{2} +2 r_{1} r_{2})}{\sqrt{3}m_{S}(-2-2 r_{2}+2 r_{2}^{2})}
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}\label{eq:d3}
U_{\mu4} = \frac{m_{D}((1- i\sqrt{3})(1+ r_{2})+r_{1}(2+ 2 i \sqrt{3}+r_{2} +3i \sqrt{3}r_{2}))}{2 \sqrt{3} m_{S}(-2-2 r_{2}+2 r_{2}^{2})}
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}\label{eq:d4}
U_{\tau4} = \frac{m_{D}((1+ i\sqrt{3})(1+ r_{2})+r_{1}(2-2 i \sqrt{3}+r_{2} -3i \sqrt{3}r_{1}) )}{2 \sqrt{3} m_{S}(-2-2 r_{2}+2 r_{2}^{2})}
\end{equation}
In the above Eqs.(\ref{eq:d1},\ref{eq:d2},\ref{eq:d3},\ref{eq:d4}), $m_{D}$,$m_{R}$,$r_{1}$ and $r_{2}$ are the model parameters.
\section{\label{sec:level3}Charged Lepton Flavor Violating Processes}
\subsection{\label{sec:level3.1}Processes involving Muonic atoms}
Many on-going experiments like MECO, SINDRUM II \cite{Bertl:2006up},COMET \cite{Cui:2009zz} are involved in searching for $\mu-e$ conversion with different targets. The observable characterizing this process is defined as ,
\begin{equation}
CR (\mu-e,N) = \frac{\Gamma(\mu^{-}+ N\rightarrow e^{-}+N)}{\Gamma(\mu^{-}+ N\rightarrow \text{all capture})}
\end{equation}
These experiments are running with different targets like Titanium (Ti), Lead (Pb), Gold (Au) Aluminum (Al) and give bounds for different targets. There are also some planned future experiments like the second phase of COMET experiment, Mu2e \cite{Carey:2008zz} to improve the sensitivity to this cLFV process. \\
There are several theoretical models to account for such rare LFV processes. As explained in \cite{Abada:2015oba}, in the extension of standard model with one heavy sterile neutrino, such processes originate from one-loop diagrams involving active and sterile neutrinos with non zero mixing angles. In the MES model,the conversion ratio can be written as \cite{Abada:2015oba},
\begin{equation}
CR (\mu-e,N) = \frac{2 G_{F}^{2}\alpha_{\omega}^{2}m_{\mu}^{5}} {(4\pi)^{2}\Gamma_{cap}(Z)}\mathrel{\Big|}4V^{(p)}(2\tilde{F_{u}^{\mu e}}+\tilde{F_{d}^{\mu e}})+4 V^{(n)}(\tilde{F_{u}^{\mu e}}+2\tilde{F_{d}^{\mu e}})+ DG_{\gamma}^{\mu e}\frac{s_{\omega}^{2}}{2\sqrt{4\pi\alpha}}\mathrel{\Big|}^{2}
\end{equation}
In the above expression, $G_{F}$,$s_{\omega}$,$\Gamma_{cap}(Z)$ are Fermi constant, sine of weak mixing angle and capture rate of the nucleus respectively. Here, $\alpha=\frac{e^{2}}{4\pi}$ and $\tilde{F}_{q}^{\mu e}$ are form factors given as,
\begin{equation}
\tilde{F}_{q}^{\mu e}= Q_{q}s_{\omega}^{2} F_{\gamma}^{\mu e}+F_{Z}^{\mu e}(\frac{I_{q}^{3}}{2}- Q_{q}s_{\omega}^{2})+\frac{1}{4}F_{Box}^{\mu e qq}
\end{equation}
Here, $Q_{q}$ represents the quark electric charge which is $\frac{2}{3}$ and $-\frac{1}{3}$ for up and down quark respectively. The weak isospin $I_{q}^{3}$ is $\frac{1}{2}$ and $-\frac{1}{2}$ for up and down quark respectively. The numerical values of $V^{(p)}$,$V^{(n)}$ and D in \cite{Ilakovac:1994kj}. In the small limit of masses ($x_{j}= \frac{m_{\nu j}^{2}}{m_{W}^{2}}\ll 1$), the form factors can be written as \cite{Abada:2015oba},
\begin{equation}\label{eq:11}
F_{\gamma}^{\mu e} \rightarrow \sum_{j=1}^{3+ n_{S}} U_{ej} U_{\mu j}^{ \ast}[-x_{j}]
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}\label{eq:12}
G_{\gamma}^{\mu e} \rightarrow \sum_{j=1}^{3+ n_{S}} U_{ej}U_{\mu j}^{ \ast}[\frac{x_{j}}{4}]
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}\label{eq:13}
F_{Z}^{\mu e} \rightarrow \sum_{j=1}^{3+ n_{S}} U_{ej}U_{\mu j}^{ \ast}[x_{j}(-\frac{5}{2}-ln x_{j})]
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}\label{eq:14}
F_{Box}^{\mu eee} \rightarrow \sum_{j=1}^{3+ n_{S}} U_{ej} U_{\mu j}^{ \ast}[2 x_{j}(1+ln x_{j})]
\end{equation}
There may be flavour violating non-radiative decay of $\mu^{-}$ into three electrons ($\mu\longrightarrow eee$) \cite{Kitano:2002mt}. Mu3e experiment running at PSI aims at finding the signatures of this type of decay \cite{Willmann:1998gd}. The branching ratio of this decay process can be written as,
\begin{align}
BR(\mu\longrightarrow eee)& = \frac{\alpha_{\omega}^{4}} {24576 \pi^{3}}\frac{m_{\mu}^{4}} {m_{W}^{4}}\frac{m_{\mu}} {\Gamma_{\mu}}2\mathrel{\Big|}\frac{1}{2} F_{Box}^{\mu eee}+F_{Z}^{\mu e}-2 s_{\omega}^{2}(F_{Z}^{\mu e}-F_{\gamma}^{\mu e})\mathrel{\Big|}^{2}+ 4 s_{\omega}^{4}|F_{Z}^{\mu e}- F_{\gamma}^{\mu e}|^{2} \nonumber \\
& + 16 s_{\omega}^{2} Re[(F_{Z}^{\mu e}+ \frac{1}{2} F_{Box}^{\mu eee})G_{\gamma}^{\mu e\ast}]-48 s_{\omega}^{4} Re[(F_{Z}^{\mu e}- F_{\gamma}^{\mu e})G_{\gamma}^{\mu e\ast}]\nonumber \\
&+ 32 s_{\omega}^{4}|G_{\gamma}^{\mu e}|^{2}[ln\frac{m_{\mu}^{2}}{m_{e}^{2}}-\frac{11}{4}]
\end{align}
In the above equation, the form factors can be obtained from Eq.(\ref{eq:11}) to Eq.(\ref{eq:14}).
The MEG experiment \cite{Adam:2013mnn} aims at investigating LFV process $\mu\longrightarrow e \gamma$ and there are many planned projects in search for this kind of decay. In the framework of minimal extended seesaw, the heavy neutrinos can cause $\mu\longrightarrow e \gamma$ decay. The branching ratio of the process can be given as,
\begin{equation}
BR(\mu\longrightarrow e\gamma) = \frac{\alpha_{\omega}^{3}s_{\omega}^{2}} {256 \pi^{2}}\frac{m_{\mu}^{4}} {M_{W}^{4}}\frac{m_{\mu}} {\Gamma_{\mu}}|G_{\gamma}^{\mu e}|^{2}
\end{equation}
In the above equation,the total decay width of muon ($\Gamma_{\mu}$) is obtained as,
\begin{equation}
\Gamma_{\mu} = \frac{G_{F}^{2}m_{\mu}^{5}}{192 \pi^{3}}(1-8 \frac{m_{e}^{2}}{m_{\mu}^{2}})[1+\frac{\alpha_{em}}{2\pi}(\frac{25}{4}-\pi^{2})]
\end{equation}
Another possible cLFV process is the decay of a bound $\mu^{-}$ in a muonic atom into a pair of electrons $(\mu^{-}e^{-}\longrightarrow e^{-}e^{-})$ proposed by \cite{PhysRevLett.105.121601}. This particular decay process offers several advantages over three body decay processes from the experimental point of view. There are different classes of extension of SM which can show a contribution to such processes. In this model with one extra sterile state, the effective Lagrangian describing this process contains long range interactions and local interaction terms. The branching ratio of such process in muonic atoms,with an atomic number Z can be expressed as,
\begin{align}
BR(\mu^{-}e^{-}\longrightarrow e^{-}e^{-},N)& = 24 \pi f_{Coul}(Z)\alpha_{\omega}\frac{m_{e}^{3}} {m_{\mu}^{3}}\frac{\tilde{\tau}_{\mu}} {\tau_{\mu}}(16|\frac{1}{2} (\frac{g_{\omega}}{4 \pi})^{2} (\frac{1}{2}F_{Box}^{\mu eee}+F_{Z}^{\mu e}-2 s_{\omega}^{2}(F_{Z}^{\mu e}-F_{\gamma}^{\mu e}))|^{2}\nonumber \\
&+4|\frac{1}{2} (\frac{g_{\omega}}{4 \pi})^{2}2 s_{\omega}^{2} (F_{Z}^{\mu e}- F_{\gamma}^{\mu e})|^{2}
\end{align}
Here, $\tau_{\mu}$ represents the lifetime of free muon and the lifetime $\tilde{\tau}_{\mu}$ depends on specific elements. In our analysis, we have considered Al and Au in which value of $\tilde{\tau}_{\mu}$ are $8.64\times10^{-7}$ and $7.26\times10^{-8}$ respectively. This decay process would possibly be probed in the COMET collaboration. As suggested in many literature, we have used the future sensitivity of $CR (\mu-e,N)$ to constrain such decay process.
\subsection{\label{sec:level3.2}Processes involving Tau leptons}
There are many flavor violating channels open for tau lepton decays. Search for such decays involving taus is also challenging. Theoretical models which predict cLFV in the muon indicate a violation in the tau sector also. However, the amplitude of the process involving tau channel is enhanced by several order of magnitude in comparison to muon decays. Experiments like BaBar \cite{PhysRevLett.104.021802} and Belle \cite{Miyazaki:2011xe} provide limits to cLFV decays involving tau leptons. In this work, we have investigated three processes involving tau leptons $\tau\longrightarrow e\gamma$, $\tau\longrightarrow \mu\gamma$ and $\tau\longrightarrow eee$. The branching ratios of these mentioned process can be written as \cite{Ilakovac:1994kj},
\begin{equation}\label{eq:10a}
BR(\tau\longrightarrow e\gamma) = \frac{\alpha_{\omega}^{3}s_{\omega}^{2}} {256 \pi^{2}}\frac{m_{\tau}^{4}} {m_{W}^{4}}\frac{m_{\tau}} {\Gamma_{\tau}}|G_{\gamma}^{\tau e}|^{2}
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}\label{eq:10b}
BR(\tau\longrightarrow \mu\gamma) = \frac{\alpha_{\omega}^{3}s_{\omega}^{2}} {256 \pi^{2}}\frac{m_{\tau}^{4}} {m_{W}^{4}}\frac{m_{\tau}} {\Gamma_{\tau}}|G_{\gamma}^{\tau\mu}|^{2}
\end{equation}
In the above equations, $\Gamma_{\tau}$ represents the total width of tau leptons with experimental value $\Gamma_{\tau}= 2.1581\times 10^{-12}$ GeV \cite{Ilakovac:1994kj}.
\begin{align}\label{eq:10c}
BR(\tau\longrightarrow eee)& = \frac{\alpha_{\omega}^{4}} {24576 \pi^{3}}\frac{m_{\tau}^{4}} {m_{W}^{4}}\frac{m_{\tau}} {\Gamma_{\tau}}2\mathrel{\Big|}\frac{1}{2} F_{Box}^{\tau eee}+F_{Z}^{\tau e}-2 s_{\omega}^{2}(F_{Z}^{\tau e}-F_{\gamma}^{\tau e})\mathrel{\Big|}^{2}+ 4 s_{\omega}^{4}|F_{Z}^{\tau e}- F_{\gamma}^{\tau e}|^{2} \nonumber \\
& + 16 s_{\omega}^{2} Re[(F_{Z}^{\tau e}+ \frac{1}{2} F_{Box}^{\tau eee})G_{\gamma}^{\tau e\ast}]-48 s_{\omega}^{4} Re[(F_{Z}^{\tau e}- F_{\gamma}^{\tau e})G_{\gamma}^{\tau e\ast}]\nonumber \\
&+ 32 s_{\omega}^{4}|G_{\gamma}^{\tau e}|^{2}[ln\frac{m_{\tau}^{2}}{m_{e}^{2}}-\frac{11}{4}]
\end{align}
where, the composite form factors $F_{\gamma}^{\tau e}$,$G_{\gamma}^{\tau e}$,$F_{Z}^{\tau e}$ and $F_{Box}^{\tau eee}$ can be defined as follows:
\begin{equation}
F_{\gamma}^{\tau e} \rightarrow \sum U_{ej} U_{\tau j}^{ \ast}[-x_{j}]
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}
G_{\gamma}^{\tau e} \rightarrow \sum U_{ej}U_{\tau j}^{ \ast}[\frac{x_{j}}{4}]
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}
F_{Z}^{\tau e} \rightarrow \sum U_{ej}U_{\tau j}^{ \ast}[x_{j}(-\frac{5}{2}-ln x_{j})]
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}
F_{Box}^{\tau eee} \rightarrow \sum U_{ej} U_{\tau j}^{ \ast}[2 x_{j}(1+ln x_{j})]
\end{equation}
\section{\label{sec:level4} Neutrinoless Double Beta Decay (0$\nu\beta\beta$)}
The presence of sterile neutrinos in addition to the standard model particles may lead to new contributions to lepton number violating interactions like neutrinoless double beta decay(0$\nu\beta\beta$)\cite{Benes:2005hn,Awasthi:2013we,Borgohain:2018lro}. We have studied the contributions of the sterile state to the effective electron neutrino majorana mass $m_{\beta\beta}$ \cite{Abada:2018qok,Blennow:2010th}. The most stringent bounds on the effective mass by provided by KamLAND-ZEN experiment \cite{KamLAND-Zen:2016pfg}.
\begin{equation}\label{eq:20}
m_{\beta\beta} < 0.061- 0.165 eV
\end{equation}
The amplitude of these processes depends upon the neutrino mixing matrix elements and the neutrino masses. The decay width of the process is proportional to the effective electron neutrino majorana mass $m_{\beta\beta}$ which is in the case of standard contribution i.e. in the absence of any sterile neutrino is given as ,
\begin{equation}
m_{\beta\beta} = \mathrel{\Big|}\sum_{i = 1}^{3}{U_{ei}}^{2}m_{i}\mathrel{\Big|}
\end{equation}
The above equation is modified with the addition of sterile fermions and is given by \cite{Abada:2018qok}
\begin{equation}\label{eq:21}
m_{\beta\beta} =\mathrel{\Big|}\sum_{i = 1}^{3}{U_{ei}}^{2}m_{i} + {U_{e4}}^{2}m_{4}\mathrel{\Big|}
\end{equation}
where, $m_{4}$ and ${U_{e4}}$ represent the mass and mixing of the sterile neutrino to the electron neutrino respectively.
\section{\label{sec:level5} Results of Numerical Analysis and Discussions}
It is evident from the above discussion that the neutrino mass matrix in Eq. (\ref{eq:15}) contains three model parameters $K_{1}$,$K_{2}$,$K_{3}$. We can express the experimentally measured six oscillation parameters $\textstyle {\Delta m_{21}^{2}}$, $\textstyle \Delta m_{31}^{2}$, $\textstyle \sin^{2}\theta_{12}$, $\textstyle \sin^{2}\theta_{23}$, $\sin^{2}\theta_{13}$, $\textstyle\delta_{CP}$ in terms of these model parameters. Hence, the three model parameters can be evaluated by comparing with the three oscillation parameters in $3\sigma$ range as given in table \ref{tab3} and then constrain the other parameters. These parameters $\textstyle K_{1}$, $\textstyle K_{2}$, $\textstyle K_{3}$ in turn are related to $m_{D}$,$m_{R}$,$r_{1}$ and $r_{2}$ as given in Eqs.(\ref{eq:15a},\ref{eq:15b},\ref{eq:15c}) which are functions of Yukawa couplings and VEV's of the scalars. In our model, we have evaluated the model parameters comparing with experimental range of $\textstyle \Delta m_{21}^{2}$, $\textstyle \Delta m_{31}^{2}$, $\textstyle \sin^{2}\theta_{13}$. Since the lightest neutrino mass is zero in MES model, hence $\textstyle \Delta m_{21}^{2}$ and $\textstyle \Delta m_{31}^{2}$ will correspond the other two masses. Our construction of MES model with $TM_{1}$ mixing rules out the inverted ordering (IO) of the neutrino masses. The inverted ordering is disfavored with a $\textstyle\Delta\chi^{2} = 4.7$ \cite{Esteban:2018azc}. Hence, our results is in good agreement with the latest global data. Fig \ref{fig1a} represents correlation of different neutrino oscillation parameters with the model parameters.
\begin{table}[H]
\centering
\begin{tabular}{|c|c|}
\hline
Oscillation parameters & 3$\sigma$(NO) \\
\hline
$\frac{\Delta m_{21}^{2}}{10^{-5}eV^{2}}$ & 6.80 - 8.02 \\
$\frac{\Delta m_{31}^{2}}{10^{-3}eV^{2}}$ & 2.40 - 2.60 \\
$\sin^{2}\theta_{13}$ & 0.0198 - 0.0243 \\
\hline
\end{tabular}
\caption{Latest Global fit neutrino oscillation Data.}\label{tab3}
\end{table}
\begin{figure}[H]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{K}
\end{center}
\begin{center}
\caption{Correlation plots for the model parameters (in eV).}
\label{figmodel}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
$TM_{1}$ with $\mu \text{-}\tau$ symmetry fixes the atmospheric mixing angle $\theta_{23}$ be $\frac{\pi}{4}$ i.e maximal atmospheric mixing angle. We have seen the predictions of the model on Jarlskog parameter $J_{CP}$ and the Dirac CP phase $\delta_{CP}$ by evaluating these two parameters using Eq.(\ref{eq:2b}). The model predicts maximal $\delta_{CP}$ which is consistent with the current global fit. We have also calculated the sum of the three light neutrino masses from the model parameters. It predicts $\sum m_{i}$ within the range ($0.057-0.059$) which is below the cosmological upper bounds. Thus it is clear that the predictions of the model comply with the latest neutrino and cosmology data.
\begin{figure}[H]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=0.85\textwidth]{grid}
\end{center}
\begin{center}
\caption{The allowed region of $\Delta m^{2}_{31}$,$\Delta m^{2}_{21}$ and mixing angle $\sin^{2}\theta_{13}$ as a function of model parameters.}
\label{fig1a}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
\begin{table}[H]
\centering
\begin{tabular}{|c|c|c|}
\hline
Parameters & Predictions (NH) & Experimental Range \\
\hline
$m_{\beta\beta}$ & (0.014 - 0.016)eV & <0.06 eV \\
$\sum m_{i}$ & (0.057 - 0.059)eV & <0.11 eV\\
\hline
\end{tabular}
\caption{Predictions of the model on different parameters. The value of $m_{\beta\beta}$ is taken from KamLAND-ZEN experiment \cite{KamLAND-Zen:2016pfg} and $\sum m_{i}$ from latest Planck data \cite{Aghanim:2018eyx}.}\label{tab4}
\end{table}
Apart from studying active neutrino phenomenology, we have calculated different observables related to the different cLFV processes with the numerically evaluated model parameters. All the masses and mixing in the model are dependent on the model parameters which are highly constrained from the neutrino oscillation data. The masses and mixing of the active as well as sterile neutrinos in turn are related to the observables of different cLFV processes and also $0\nu\beta\beta$ process as mentioned above. Hence, the same set of model parameters which are supposed to produce correct neutrino phenomenology can also be used to estimate the observables of different low energy processes. Thus this model is constrained from these processes also. The motivation is to see if the neutrino mass matrix that can explain the neutrino phenomenology can also provide sufficient parameter space for other low energy observables $0\nu\beta\beta$, cLFV etc. We also correlate the sterile neutrino mass with $0\nu\beta\beta$ and cLFV processes to see the impact of sterile neutrino.
The effective mass ($m_{\beta\beta}$) characterizing $0\nu\beta\beta$ process along with the presence of heavy sterile neutrino is calculated using Eq.(\ref{eq:21}). Fig \ref{fig2} shows the effective mass against the sterile neutrino mass and mixing. For new physics contribution coming from extra sterile neutrino, the effective mass is consistent with the upper bound ($|m_{\beta\beta}|\leq 0.06 eV$) followed from the data of KamLAND-ZEN \cite{KamLAND-Zen:2016pfg} experiment. It has been observed that the presence of sterile neutrino in the model results in a effective mass larger than that coming from the standard contribution (in the absence of sterile neutrino). However, even in the presence of such heavy sterile neutrino, the effective mass satisfies the experimental limit as the mixing of sterile neutrino with active neutrinos decreases with increase in mass in the model. Fig \ref{fig2a} shows variation of effective mass as a function of the parameter $\theta$ characterizing the $TM_{1}$ mixing. This plot shows how the model with $TM_{1}$ mixing constrains effective neutrino mass $m_{\beta\beta}$.
\begin{figure}[H]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{m-effmass}
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{U-effmass}
\end{center}
\begin{center}
\caption{The prediction of the effective neutrino mass as a function of sterile neutrino mass and mixing.}
\label{fig2}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
\begin{figure}[H]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{theta-effmass}
\end{center}
\begin{center}
\caption{The prediction of the effective neutrino mass as a function of $TM_{1}$ mixing parameter $Sin\theta$.}
\label{fig2a}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
We have performed the analysis of $\mu-e$ conversion with two different targets- Aluminium (Al) and Gold (Au). Fig \ref{fig5} shows the calculated conversion ratios with these two target as a function of the mass of the sterile neutrinos. In both the cases the results are within the reach of current and future experiments. It has been observed that sterile neutrino with mass $10^{8}$ GeV can lead to such process within the experimental bound.
\begin{figure}[H]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{mu-eAl}
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{mu-eAu}
\end{center}
\begin{center}
\caption{$\text{CR}(\mu-e,N)$ as a function of sterile neutrino mass with two different targets. The blue horizontal line represents the experimental bounds on this process.}
\label{fig5}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
We have seen the sterile neutrino contribution to process $\mu^{-}e^{-}\longrightarrow e^{-}e^{-}$ in the model. Fig \ref{fig6} shows the variation of branching ratios with the mass of the sterile neutrinos. It has been observed that for targets with Al the experimental limits are reached for lower value of mass of the sterile neutrinos (around $10^{8}$ GeV) than in case with Au (around $2.5\times10^{9}$ Gev). This shows that the cLFV process induced by an additional sterile neutrinos could certainly be probed in near future experiments with Aluminium targets. The stringent bound on sterile neutrino mass to cause such process is around $3\times10^{8}$ GeV.
\begin{figure}[H]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{mu-eeAl}
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{mu-eeAu}
\end{center}
\begin{center}
\caption{$\text{BR}(\mu^{-}e^{-}\longrightarrow e^{-}e^{-},N)$ as a function of sterile neutrino mass with two different targets. The blue horizontal line represents the experimental bounds on this process.}
\label{fig6}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
Fig \ref{fig7} indicates the impacts of sterile neutrino in $\mu\longrightarrow eee$ process. It is evident from the figure that the branching ratios have a stronger experimental potential, with contributions well within current (future) experimental reach for sterile masses above $2\times10^{9}$ ($10^{8}$) GeV.
\begin{figure}[H]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=0.55\textwidth]{mu-eee}
\end{center}
\begin{center}
\caption{$\text{BR} (\mu-eee)$ as a function of sterile neutrino mass. The red horizontal line represents the experimental bounds on this process.}
\label{fig7}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
The branching ratios of another appealing process $\mu\longrightarrow e\gamma$ in presence of heavy sterile neutrino as a function of its mass is shown in fig \ref{fig7a}. It is seen that the results are well within current (future) experimental reach for sterile masses above $2\times10^{9}$ ($10^{9}$) GeV.
\begin{figure}[H]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=0.55\textwidth]{mu-e}
\end{center}
\begin{center}
\caption{$\text{BR} (\mu-e\gamma)$ as a function of sterile neutrino mass. The red horizontal line represents the experimental bounds on this process.}
\label{fig7a}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
Similarly,we have carried out our analysis for processes involving tau atoms and calculated the observables using Eq.(\ref{eq:10a},\ref{eq:10b},\ref{eq:10c}).The results are shown in the following figs \ref{fig8},\ref{fig9},\ref{fig10}. It is observed that the sterile neutrino can have sizable contributions to such processes only when it has mass above $10^{9}$ GeV which is quite higher than that in case of processes involving muonic atoms. For the process $\tau\longrightarrow e\gamma$, the current experimental bound on branching ratio is achieved for $m_{s}>2\times10^{12}$ GeV, however lower mass of sterile neutrino (around $10^{12}$) can contribute to such process in future experiments as shown in fig \ref{fig8}. Fig \ref{fig9} indicates that the contributions of sterile neutrino in the process $\tau\longrightarrow \mu\gamma$ which are well within the current experimental limit for $m_{s}>2\times10^{12}$ GeV and the sensitivity of future experiments is reached for lower mass of sterile neutrino (around $5\times10^{11}$). For the process $\tau\longrightarrow eee$, the current and future experimental bound on branching ratio is achieved for $m_{s}>10^{12}$ GeV and around $3\times10^{11}$ respectively which can be seen in fig \ref{fig8}. In the table (\ref{tab5}), we have summarised the constraints on sterile neutrino mass coming from different cLFV processes.
\begin{figure}[H]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{tau-e}
\end{center}
\begin{center}
\caption{$\text{BR} (\tau-e\gamma)$ as a function of sterile neutrino mass. The blue horizontal line represents the experimental bounds on this process.}
\label{fig8}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
\begin{figure}[H]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{tau-mu}
\end{center}
\begin{center}
\caption{$\text{BR}(\tau-\mu\gamma)$ as a function of sterile neutrino mass. The blue horizontal line represents the experimental bounds on this process.}
\label{fig9}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
\begin{figure}[H]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{tau-eee}
\end{center}
\begin{center}
\caption{$\text{BR} (\tau-eee)$ as a function of sterile neutrino mass. The blue horizontal line represents the experimental bounds on this process.}
\label{fig10}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
\begin{table}[H]
\centering
\begin{tabular}{|c|c|}
\hline
cLFV Process & Bounds on sterile neutrino mass \\
\hline
$(\mu e\longrightarrow ee,Al)$ & $3\times10^{8}$\\
\hline
$(\mu e\longrightarrow ee,Au)$ & $2.5\times10^{9}$\\
\hline
$\mu\longrightarrow eee$ & $10^{8}$ \\
\hline
$\mu\longrightarrow e\gamma$ & $10^{9}$ \\
\hline
$(\mu - e,Al)$ & $2\times10^{8}$\\
\hline
$(\mu - e,Au)$ & $5\times10^{8}$\\
\hline
$\tau\longrightarrow e\gamma$ & $10^{12}$ \\
\hline
$\tau\longrightarrow \mu\gamma$& $5\times10^{11}$ \\
\hline
$\tau\longrightarrow eee$& $3\times10^{11}$ \\
\hline
\end{tabular}
\caption{Constraints on sterile neutrino mass from different cLFV processes.}\label{tab5}
\end{table}
\section{\label{sec:level6}Conclusion}
In this work, we have studied the effect of sterile neutrino on the low energy processes focusing on charged lepton flavor violation and neutrinoless double beta decay. The framework of our study is an MES model which is obtained by the addition of a triplet of right handed neutrinos and a sterile neutrino singlet field to the standard model. The gauge group of standard model is extended by the flavor symmetry group $\Delta(96)$ along with two $C_{2}$ groups and one $C_{3}$ group. The model is constructed in such a way that it gives rise to a special mixing pattern known as $TM_{1}$ mixing. The model leading to $TM_{1}$ mixing with $\mu \text{-}\tau$ symmetry predicts maximal atmospheric mixing angle and maximal breaking of the CP symmetry. These two important constraints of the model comply with the experimental data. Moreover, our construction of the model rules out inverted ordering of the neutrino masses.
The model is represented by three model parameters that have been evaluated by comparing the light neutrino oscillation parameters in $3\sigma$ range. We have obtained the sterile neutrino mass and mixing from the model parameters. We then feed the model parameters in calculating different observables characterizing different low energy processes. Sizeable implications for 0$\nu\beta\beta$ can be obtained within the MES model with $TM_{1}$ mixing. The texture of the mass matrices predict the effective mass $m_{\beta\beta}$ that is consistent with the experimental data. We have investigated different cLFV processes involving muon and tau leptons. It has been observed that wide range of parameter space has the possibility to be probed in near future experiments. There are no theoretical upper bounds on the mass of the sterile neutrino. However, in this model the different cLFV processes highly constrain the mass of sterile neutrino. In this work, we have summarized the limits on the mass of the sterile neutrino to contribute such processes. Another important conclusion that can be drawn from the present work is that the sterile neutrino mass range allowed by different cLFV processes can give rise to effective neutrino mass within the experimental limits. Thus the two low energy observables can also be correlated in the proposed model.
In conclusion, the MES model with $\Delta96$ discrete flavor symmetry can address neutrino phenomenology in presence of heavy sterile neutrino with the prediction of experimentally observed neutrino parameters. We have shown that the model have interesting implications in rare decay experiments like lepton flavor violation and also neutrinoless double beta decay. The estimation of the model on baryon asymmetry of the universe (BAU) can also be studied in future.
\section{\label{sec:level1}Introduction}
The observed neutrino oscillation phenomenon, the origin of the idea behind the massive nature of neutrinos, has been one of the most appealing evidences to expect physics beyond standard model (BSM). Neutrino oscillation probabilities are dependent on the three mixing angles,the neutrino mass-squared differences ($\Delta m_{21}^{2}$, $\Delta m_{31}^{2}$) and the Dirac CP phase ($\delta_{CP}$). Though there are precise measurements of the mixing angles and mass squared differences, yet there are no conclusive remarks on ($\delta_{CP}$) or the mass ordering of the neutrinos. NO$\nu$A \cite{PhysRevD.98.032012} and T2K \cite{Abe:2015awa} experiments have recently provided hint towards the CP violation in Dirac neutrino matrix. Again, another important unsolved issue is the mass ordering of the neutrinos whether it is normal ($m_{1}<m_{2}<m_{3}$) or inverted ($m_{3}<m_{1}<m_{2}$). There are some other open questions in particle physics as well as cosmology such as CP violation in lepton sector, baryon asymmetry of the universe and particle nature of dark matter. Motivated by these shortcomings, different beyond standard model (BSM) theories \cite{Mohapatra:1980yp} are pursued in different experiments.
Many searches for new physics beyond standard model are going on in different experiments. Charged lepton flavor violating (cLFV) processes can provide a way to search for new physics beyond standard model. cLFV processes are heavily suppressed in the standard model . However, the well established neutrino oscillation phenomenon give a signal towards the flavor violation in the charged lepton sector also. There are present and planned experiments to search for lepton flavor violating radiative decay ($l_{i}\longrightarrow l_{j}\gamma$)\cite{Bernstein:2013hba} and also three body decays ($l_{i}\longrightarrow l_{j}l_{k}l_{k}$) \cite{Mihara:2013zna}. The present and future experimental constraints on cLFV processes can be found in table \ref{tab1a} and \ref{tab1b} . In this work, we study the transition among the three charged leptons. However, the transitions of muon such as $\mu-e,N$, $\mu\longrightarrow eee$, $\mu\longrightarrow e\gamma$ \cite{Lindner:2016bgg,Bertl:2006up} and recently proposed $\mu^{-}e^{-}\longrightarrow e^{-}e^{-}$ \cite{PhysRevLett.105.121601} are extensively analyzed as the parent particle is substantially available in the cosmic radiation as well as in dedicated accelerators\cite{Calibbi:2017uvl}. Many other challenging cLFV processes are those which involve the third family of leptons (taus) as it opens many flavor violating channels. Among these $\tau\longrightarrow e\gamma$, $\tau\longrightarrow \mu\gamma$, $\tau\longrightarrow 3e$ and $\tau\longrightarrow 3\mu$ are significant. The processes involving taus also open up many channels involving hadrons in the final state such as $\tau\longrightarrow l\pi^{0}$ , $\tau\longrightarrow l\pi^{+}\pi^{-}$\cite{Calibbi:2017uvl,Hayasaka:2010np} .
\begin{table}[H]
\centering
\begin{tabular}{|c|c|c|}
\hline
cLFV Process & Present Bound & Future sensitivity \\
\hline
$\mu\longrightarrow eee$ & $1.0\times10^{-12}$& $\sim 10^{-16}$ \\
$\mu\longrightarrow e\gamma$ &$5.7\times10^{-13}$& $6.0\times10^{-14}$ \\
$\tau\longrightarrow e\gamma$ & $3.3\times10^{-8}$& $\sim 3\times10^{-9}$ \\
$\tau\longrightarrow \mu\gamma$& $4.4\times10^{-8}$& $\sim 10^{-9}$ \\
$\tau\longrightarrow eee$& $2.7\times10^{-8}$& $\sim 10^{-9}$\\
\hline
\end{tabular}
\caption{Current experimental bounds and future sensitivities for different cLFV
processes.\cite{TheMEG:2016wtm,Aubert:2009ag,Bellgardt:1987du,Hayasaka:2010np}}\label{tab1a}
\end{table}
\begin{table}[H]
\centering
\begin{tabular}{|c|c|}
\hline
cLFV Process & Experimental Bound \\
\hline
$(\mu - e,Au)$ & $7\times10^{-13}$\\
$(\mu - e,Al)$ & $3\times10^{-12}$\\
\hline
\end{tabular}
\caption{Experimental bounds for the
processes CR $(\mu - e,N)$. \cite{Bertl:2006up,Bellgardt:1987du}}\label{tab1b}
\end{table}
There are various theoretical models which are the extension of SM that can account for cLFV processes \cite{Deppisch:2004fa,Ilakovac:1994kj,Abada:2016vzu}. These models usually introduce new particle fields to act as a source of flavor violation. The models with heavy sterile neutrinos can provide prominent contributions to cLFV processes. There are many theoretical motivations as well as experimental background for the existence of sterile neutrinos. The anomalies of the LSND \cite{Athanassopoulos:1997pv} and MiniBooNE \cite{Aguilar-Arevalo:2018gpe} results provide a hint towards the presence of one or two sterile neutrino states. Again from the theoretical point of view, the addition of sterile fermions into the standard model can explain the neutrino mass and also mixing \cite{Naumov:2019kwm}. Moreover, sterile neutrino can account for many cosmological observations like dark matter \cite{Gautam:2019pce,Adhikari:2016bei,Dolgov:2000ew,Hamann:2011ge,Dodelson:1993je} and baryon asymmetry of universe (BAU) \cite{Lucente:2016vru,Gautam:2020wsd}. Furthermore, their mixing with the active neutrinos can contribute to certain non-oscillation processes like neutrino-less double decay (0$\nu\beta\beta$) amplitude or in beta decay spectra in the KATRIN experiment \cite{Abada:2018qok,Abazajian:2017tcc}.
To study the effect of sterile neutrino on low scale processes, we have chosen minimal extended seesaw (MES) framework augmented with $\Delta(96)$ flavor symmetry. In MES framework, three right-handed neutrinos and one additional gauge singlet field S are added to the SM particle content \cite{Zhang:2011vh,Barry:2011wb}. The extra sterile state may have significant contribution to cLFV processes and 0$\nu\beta\beta$ depending on its mass and mixing with the active neutrinos in the model. In the present work, $C_{2}$ and $C_{3}$ discrete groups are introduced along with $\Delta(96)$ to avoid the unwanted couplings among the particles. The mass matrices constructed in the MES model embedded with $\Delta(96)$ flavor symmetry lead to a particular mixing pattern widely known as $\text{TM}_{1}$ mixing \cite{Luhn:2013lkn}. $\text{TM}_{1}$ mixing is one of the most significant mixing pattern which comply with the experimental predictions mixing angles and Dirac CP phase. In the present work, after constructing the mass matrices leading to $\text{TM}_{1}$ mixing, the model parameters have been evaluated using three neutrino oscillation parameters and then mass and mixing of the particles are calculated as a function of these model parameters. Further, we have evaluated different observables characterizing the different cLFV processes and neutrinoless double beta decay (0$\nu\beta\beta$).
The paper is planned as follows. In section \ref{sec:level2}, we describe the $\text{TM}_{1}$ mixing and the model with $\Delta(96)$ flavor symmetry. The particles are assigned with different charges under the symmetry group and the mass matrices involved in the model are constructed. Section \ref{sec:level3} is the brief discussion of different cLFV processes and contribution of sterile neutrinos in such processes. In section \ref{sec:level4}, we briefly discuss about neutrinoless double beta decay process in presence of heavy sterile neutrinos. The results of the numerical analysis are discussed in detail in section \ref{sec:level5}. Finally, we conclude in section \ref{sec:level6}.
\section{\label{sec:level2} Minimal Extended Seesaw with $\Delta(96)$ flavor symmetry with $\text{TM}_{1}$ mixing}
\subsection{The MES Framework}
Minimal Extended Seesaw (MES) is the extension of canonical type-I seesaw by the addition of extra gauge singlet field, $\nu_{s}$ to accommodate sterile neutrinos. This field has a coupling with the heavy right handed neutrino fields that are present in type-I seesaw \cite{Zhang:2011vh,Nath:2016mts,Das:2018qyt}. Thus the Lagrangian in this MES model can be obtained as \cite{Zhang:2011vh},
\begin{equation}\label{eq:1}
-\mathcal{L} = \bar{\nu_{L}}M_{D} N + \frac{1}{2} N^{c}M_{R}N + \bar{S}M_{S}N + h.c
\end{equation}
Subsequently, the mass matrix arising from the Lagrangian in Eq.(\ref{eq:1}) in the basis $(\nu_{L},N^{c},S^{c})$ can be written as,
\begin{equation}
M_{\nu}^{7\times7}=\left(\begin{array}{ccc}
0 & M_{D}& 0 \\
{M_{D}}^{T} & M_{R} &M_{S}^{T} \\
0 & M_{S} & 0
\end{array}\right)
\label{massmatrix}
\end{equation}
Since the right-handed neutrinos are much heavier than the electroweak scale as in case of type-I seesaw, they should be decoupled at low scales. Effectively,
the full $7\times7$ matrix can be block diagonalised into a $4\times4$ neutrino
mass matrix as follows \cite{Zhang:2011vh},
\begin{equation}\label{massmatrix1}
M_{\nu}^{4\times4}=-\left(\begin{array}{ccc}
M_{D}{M_{R}}^{-1}{M_{D}}^{T} & M_{D}{M_{R}}^{-1}{M_{S}}^{T} \\
M_{S}({M_{R}}^{-1})^{T}{M_{D}}^{T} & M_{S}{M_{R}}^{-1}{M_{S}}^{T}
\end{array}\right)
\end{equation}
Assuming $M_{S}>M_{D}$, the active neutrino mass matrix of Eq.(\ref{massmatrix1}) takes the form as,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:1bb}
M_{\nu}\simeq M_{D}M_{R}^{-1}M_{S}^{T}(M_{S}M_{R}^{-1}M_{S}^{T})^{-1}M_{S}M_{R}^{-1}M_{D}^{T}-M_{D}M_{R}^{-1}M_{D}^{T}
\end{equation}
The sterile neutrino mass can be obtained as,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:1a}
m_{4}\simeq M_{S}M_{R}^{-1}M_{S}^{T}
\end{equation}
The charged lepton mass matrix in general can be diagonalised using unitary matrices $U_{L}$ and $U_{R}$ as follows ,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:1cc}
U_{L}M_{l}U_{R}^{\dagger}= \text{diag}(m_{e},m_{\mu},m_{\tau})
\end{equation}
Again, we obtain the light neutrino masses using unitary matrix $U_{\nu}$ as,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:1ee}
U_{\nu}^{\dagger}M_{\nu}^{3\times3}U_{\nu}= \text{diag}(m_{1},m_{2},m_{3})
\end{equation}
The $4\times4$ neutrino mixing matrix in MES model using $U_{L}$ and $U_{\nu}$ can be obtained as \cite{Krishnan:2020xeq} ,
\begin{equation}
V =\left(\begin{array}{ccc}
U_{L}(1-\frac{1}{2} R R^{\dagger})U_{\nu} & U_{L} R \\
- R^{\dagger}U_{\nu} & 1-\frac{1}{2} R^{\dagger} R
\end{array}\right)
\label{massmatrix2}
\end{equation}
The matrix $U_{L}R$ governs the active-sterile mixing in which R can be expressed as,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:1b}
R = M_{D}M_{R}^{-1}M_{S}^{T}(M_{S}M_{R}^{-1}M_{S}^{T})^{-1}
\end{equation}
and,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:1c}
U_{L}R = \text{diag}(U_{e4},U_{\mu 4},U_{\tau 4})^{T}
\end{equation}
Finally, the $3\times3$ lepton mixing matrix (PMNS) can be written as \cite{Krishnan:2020xeq},
\begin{equation}\label{eq:1f}
U_{PMNS} = U_{L}(1-\frac{1}{2} R R^{\dagger})U_{\nu}
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}\label{eq:1ff}
U_{PMNS}\simeq U_{L}U_{\nu}
\end{equation}
Thus PMNS matrix can be obtained by multiplying the diagonalising matrix of charged lepton mixing matrix and that of the effective seesaw matrix. $U_{L}$ is identity matrix in the framework where charged lepton mass matrix is diagonal.
\subsection{$TM_{1}$ Mixing}
Trimaximal ($TM_{1}$) mixing is a mixing ansatz that preserves the first column of tri-bimaximal mixing $U_{TBM}$ and mixes its second and third columns. It is a perturbation to TBM mixing and we can write the mixing matrix as \cite{King:2019vhv,Luhn:2013lkn,Chakraborty:2020gqc},
\begin{equation}
U_{{TM_{1}}}=U_{\text{TBM}}\left(\begin{array}{ccc}
1&0& 0\\
0& \cos{\theta} & \sin{\theta}e^{-i\zeta} \\
0 & -\sin{\theta}e^{i\zeta}& \cos{\theta}
\end{array}\right)
\label{matrixTM}
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}
U_{{TM_{1}}}=\left(\begin{array}{ccc}
\frac{\sqrt{2}}{\sqrt{3}}&\frac{\cos{\theta}}{\sqrt{3}}& \frac{\sin{\theta}}{\sqrt{3}}e^{-i\zeta}\\
\frac{-1}{\sqrt{6}}&\frac{\cos{\theta}}{\sqrt{3}}-\frac{\sin{\theta}}{\sqrt{2}}e^{i\zeta}& \frac{\sin{\theta}}{\sqrt{3}}e^{-i\zeta}+\frac{\cos{\theta}}{\sqrt{2}}\\
\frac{-1}{\sqrt{6}}&\frac{\cos{\theta}}{\sqrt{3}}+\frac{\sin{\theta}}{\sqrt{2}}e^{i\zeta}& \frac{\sin{\theta}}{\sqrt{3}}e^{-i\zeta}-\frac{\cos{\theta}}{\sqrt{2}}
\end{array}\right)
\label{matrixTM1}
\end{equation}
Comparing above mixing matrix in Eq.(\ref{matrixTM1}) with the standard PMNS mixing matrix, one can obtain the three mixing angles in terms of $\theta$ as follows \cite{Krishnan:2019xmk}:
\begin{align}
\sin^2{\theta_{13}}&= \frac{\sin^2{\theta}}{3} \\
\sin^2{\theta_{23}}&= \frac{1}{2} \left(1+\frac{\sqrt{6}\sin{2\theta}\cos{\zeta}}{3-\sin^2{\theta}}\right)\\
\sin^2{\theta_{12}}&= 1- \frac{2}{3-\sin^2{\theta}}\\
J_{\text{CP}} & = \frac{\sin{2\theta}\sin{\zeta}}{6 \sqrt{6}}
\end{align}
The Jarlskog's rephasing invariant $J_{\text{CP}}$ can be written in terms of the elements of the mixing matrix as,
\begin{align}\label{eq:2b}
J_{\text{CP}}& = \text{Im}(U_{\mu 3}U_{e 3}^{\ast}U_{e 2}U_{\mu 2}^{\ast})\nonumber \\
&=\frac{1}{8}\text{sin} \delta \text{sin}2\theta_{12}\text{sin}2\theta_{23}\text{sin}2\theta_{13}\text{cos}\theta_{13}
\end{align}
One can write the expression for the CP phase in the $TM_{1}$ scenario as,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:1d}
\sin^{2}\delta = \frac{8\text{sin}^{2}\theta_{13}(1-3\text{sin}^{2}\theta_{13})-\text{cos}^{4}\theta_{13}\text{cos}^{2}2\theta_{23}}{8\text{sin}^{2}\theta_{13}\text{sin}^{2}2\theta_{23}(1-3\text{sin}^{2}\theta_{13})}
\end{equation}
For a given $\theta_{13}(\theta)$, the $TM_{1}$ mixing with $\mu \text{-}\tau$ symmetry leads to maximal CP violation. Again it can be seen that if $\zeta = \pm \frac{\pi}{2}$ , $\theta_{23}= \frac{\pi}{4}$, which leads to$\mu \text{-}\tau$ symmetry.
\subsection{The Lagrangian}
In this work, we have used $\Delta (96)$ flavor symmetry \cite{Ding:2012xx,King:2012in,King:2013vna,Fonseca:2014koa} giving rise to unique textures of the mass matrices involved in the MES model. For a brief discussion about properties of $\Delta (96)$ ,its character table and tensor product rules please refer Appendix \ref{appen1}. $\Delta (96)$ symmetry is further augmented by $C_{2}$ ans $C_{3}$ discrete flavor symmetries to get rid of some unwanted interactions. The particle assignments in the model are shown in table \ref{tab1}.
In our MES model, the lepton doublets of the SM and the SM gauge singlets transform as triplets $3_{i}$ and $\bar{3_{i}}$ of $\Delta (96)$ respectively. The sterile neutrino and the three right-handed charged leptons transform as singlets under this symmetry group. We introduce flavons $\phi_{\mu}$,$\phi_{\tau}$,$\phi_{S}$ transforming as triplets $3_{i}$ while $\phi_{M}$,$\phi_{D}$ are triplet $3^{\prime}$ and $\phi_{Mi}$,$\phi_{Di}$ are $\bar{3_{i}^{\prime}}$ under $\Delta (96)$. These fields are also assigned various
charges under the $C_{2}$ and $C_{3}$ group which can be found in table \ref{tab1}
\begin{table}[H]
\centering
\begin{tabular}{|c|c|c|c|c|c|c|c|c|c|c|c|c|c|c|c|}
\hline
Field & $L$ & $e_{R}$ & $\mu_{R}$ & $\tau_{R}$ & N & S & $\phi_{\mu}$ &$\phi_{\tau}$ & $\phi_{M}$ & $\phi_{Mi}$ & $\phi_{D}$& $\phi_{Di}$ & $\phi_{S}$ \\
\hline
$\Delta(96)$ &$3_{i}$ & $1$& $1$ & $1$ & $\bar{3_{i}}$& $1$ &$3_{i}$ &$3_{i}$ & $3^{\prime}$ &$\bar{3_{i}^{\prime}}$ &$3^{\prime}$ & $\bar{3_{i}^{\prime}}$ &$3_{i}$ \\
\hline
$C_{3}$ & $1$ & $1$ &$\omega$& $\bar{\omega}$ & $1$ & $1$ & $\bar{\omega}$ &$\omega$&$1$&$1$ & $1$ & $1$ &$1$ \\
\hline
$C_{2}$& $1$ & $1$ & $1$ &$1$& $-1$ & $1$ & $1$ & $1$ &$1$ &$1$& $-1 $ & $-1$ & $-1 $ \\
\hline
$C_{3}$& $1$ & $1$ &$1$& $1$ & $1$ & $\omega$ & $1$ &$1$ & $1$ & $1$& $1$ & $1$& $\bar{\omega}$ \\
\hline
\end{tabular}
\caption{Fields and their respective transformations under the symmetry group of the model.} \label{tab1}
\end{table}
The Yukawa Lagrangian for the charged leptons and also for the neutrinos can be expressed as:
\begin{equation}
-\mathcal{L} = \mathcal{L}_{\mathcal{M_{L}}}+\mathcal{L}_{\mathcal{M_{D}}} + \mathcal{L}_{\mathcal{M}}+ \mathcal{L}_{\mathcal{M_{S}}}+ h.c
\end{equation}
$\mathcal{L}_{\mathcal{M_{D}}} $ represents Dirac neutrino Lagrangian given as,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:3}
\mathcal{L}_{\mathcal{M_{D}}} = \frac{y_{D}}{\Lambda}(\bar{L}N)_{3^{\prime}}\tilde{H} \phi_{D} + \frac{y_{Di}}{\Lambda}(\bar{L}N)_{3_{i}^{\prime}}\tilde{H} \phi_{Di}
\end{equation}
The neutrino Majorana mass term $\mathcal{L}_{\mathcal{M}}$ can be expressed as,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:4}
\mathcal{L}_{\mathcal{M}} = y_{M}(\bar{N^{c}}N)_{3^{\prime}} \phi_{M} + y_{Mi}(\bar{N^{c}}N)_{3_{i}^{\prime}}\phi_{Mi}
\end{equation}
The interactions between the sterile and the right handed neutrinos are involved in $\mathcal{L}_{\mathcal{M_{S}}}$.
\begin{equation} \label{eq:5}
\mathcal{L}_{\mathcal{M_{S}}} = y_{S}{\bar{{S}^{c}}}N\phi_{S}
\end{equation}
$ \mathcal{L}_{\mathcal{M_{L}}}$ is the Lagrangian for the charged leptons which can be written as
\begin{equation} \label{eq:6}
\mathcal{L}_{\mathcal{M_{L}}} = \frac{y_{\mu}}{\Lambda}\bar{L}H\phi_{\mu}\mu_{R}+\frac{y_{\tau}}{\Lambda}\bar{L}H\phi_{\tau}\tau_{R} +\frac{y_{e}}{\Lambda^{2}}\bar{L}H(\bar{\phi_{\tau}}\bar{\phi_{\mu}})_{3_{i}} e_{R}
\end{equation}
After Spontaneous Symmetry Breaking (SSB) , the scalar fields acquire VEV's which are assigned as:
\begin{equation} \label{eq:6a}
\langle \phi_{\mu} \rangle = v_{\mu}(1,\bar{\omega},\omega)^{T}, \; \langle \phi_{\tau} \rangle = v_{\tau}(1,\omega,\bar{\omega})^{T}, \;\langle \phi_{S} \rangle = (0,v_{S},-v_{S})$$
$$\langle\phi_{M} \rangle = v_{M}(1,1,1)^{T},\; \langle\phi_{Mi} \rangle = v_{Mi}(1,0,-1)^{T},\; \langle\phi_{D} \rangle = v_{D}(0,1,0)^{T},\; \langle\phi_{Di} \rangle = v_{Di}(1,0,-1)^{T}
\end{equation}
\subsection{The Mass Matrices involved in the Model}
The textures of the mass matrices involved in MES model can be obtained using flavon alignments defined with residual symmetries under our flavor group. With these flavon alignments mentioned above, we obtain the charged-lepton and the neutrino mass matrices.
In the charged lepton sector, $\bar{L}$ which couples to $l_{R} (l= e,\mu,\tau)$ through the flavon $\phi_{\mu}$ and $\phi_{\tau}$. Using the VEV's of the flavons and the Higgs in the Lagrangian given by Eq.(\ref{eq:6}) ,the charged lepton mass matrix can be written as,
\begin{equation} \label{eq:u1}
M_{C}= \frac{i \sqrt{3}v v_{\mu}v_{\tau}}{\Lambda^{2}}\left(\begin{array}{ccc}
y_{e} & 0 & 0\\
y_{e} & 0 & 0\\
y_{e} & 0 & 0
\end{array}\right) + \frac{v}{\Lambda}\left(\begin{array}{ccc}
0 & y_{\mu}v_{\mu} &y_{\tau}v_{\tau} \\
0 & \bar{\omega} y_{\mu}v_{\mu} & \omega y_{\tau}v_{\tau}\\
0 & \omega y_{\mu}v_{\mu} & \bar{\omega} y_{\tau}v_{\tau}
\end{array}\right)
\end{equation}
The charged lepton mass matrix $M_{C}$ is diagonalised using the unitary matrix $U_{L}$ given as,
\begin{equation} \label{eq:u6}
U_{L} = \frac{1}{\sqrt{3}}\left(\begin{array}{ccc}
1 & 1 & 1 \\
1 & \omega & \bar{\omega}\\
1 &\bar{\omega} & \omega
\end{array}\right)
\end{equation}
$U_{L}$ is referred to as the $3\times3$ trimaximal matrix (TM) or the magic matrix.
\begin{equation} \label{eq:u7}
U_{L} M_{C}\text{diag}(-i,1,1) = \text{diag}(m_{e},m_{\mu},m_{\tau})
\end{equation}
and we obtain the masses of the charged leptons as,
\begin{equation} \label{eq:u8}
m_{e} = 3 y_{e}v \frac{v_{\mu}v_{\tau}}{\Lambda^{2}} , m_{\mu} = \sqrt{3} y_{\mu}v \frac{v_{\mu}}{\Lambda} , m_{\tau} = \sqrt{3} y_{\tau}v \frac{v_{\tau}}{\Lambda}
\end{equation}
It is seen from Eq.(\ref{eq:u8}) that the mass scale of electron is suppressed by an additional factor $\frac{1}{\Lambda}$ compared to tau or muon mass similar to Froggatt-Nielsen mechanism of obtaining the mass hierarchy.
Again, from Eq.(\ref{eq:3}), we obtain the Dirac neutrino mass matrix as,
\begin{equation} \label{eq:u2}
M_{D}= \frac{v}{\Lambda}\left(\begin{array}{ccc}
0 & -y_{Di}v_{Di} & 0 \\
-y_{Di}v_{Di} & y_{D}v_{D} & y_{Di}v_{Di}\\
0 & y_{Di}v_{Di} & 0
\end{array}\right)
\end{equation}
Denoting $\frac{y_{D}v_{D}v}{\Lambda}= m_{D}$ and $\frac{y_{Di}v_{Di}}{y_{D}v_{D}}=r_{1}$, we rewrite the Dirac mass matrix in Eq.(\ref{eq:u2}) as,
\begin{equation} \label{eq:u22}
M_{D}= m_{D} \left(\begin{array}{ccc}
0 & -r_{1} & 0 \\
-r_{1} & 1 & r_{1}\\
0 & r_{1} & 0
\end{array}\right)
\end{equation}
$m_{D}$ has the dimension of mass similar to the order of the SM fermion masses and $ r_{1}$ is dimensionless.
The Majorana mass matrix for the heavy right-handed neutrinos can be obtained using the VEV's of $\phi_{M}$ and $\phi_{Mi}$ in Eq.(\ref{eq:4}) as,
\begin{equation} \label{eq:u3}
M_{R}= \left(\begin{array}{ccc}
y_{M}v_{M} & -y_{Mi}v_{Mi} & 0 \\
-y_{Mi}v_{Mi} &y_{M}v_{M} & y_{Mi}v_{Mi}\\
0 & y_{Mi}v_{Mi} & y_{M}v_{M}
\end{array}\right)
\end{equation}
Here also, we denote $y_{M}v_{M}= m_{R}$ and $\frac{y_{Mi}v_{Mi}}{y_{M}v_{M}}= r_{2}$ and rewrite the above matrix as,
\begin{equation} \label{eq:u33}
M_{R}= m_{R}\left(\begin{array}{ccc}
1 & -r_{2} & 0 \\
-r_{2} &1 & r_{2}\\
0 & r_{2}& 1
\end{array}\right)
\end{equation}
$m_{R}$ has the dimension of mass at the scale of flavon VEV and $ r_{2}$ is dimensionless.
Finally, we obtain the mass matrix representing the coupling between right handed neutrinos and sterile neutrino as,
\begin{equation} \label{eq:u4}
M_{S}= y_{S}v_{S} \left(\begin{array}{ccc}
0 & 1 & -1
\end{array}\right)
\end{equation}
or we can rewrite it as,
\begin{equation} \label{eq:u44}
M_{S}= m_{S} \left(\begin{array}{ccc}
0 & 1 & -1
\end{array}\right)
\end{equation}
where, $m_{S} = y_{S}v_{S}$ has the dimension of mass.
The light neutrino mass matrix in the framework of MES arising from the mass matrices in Eqs.(\ref{eq:u22},\ref{eq:u33},\ref{eq:u44}) can be written using Eq.(\ref{massmatrix1}) as:
\begin{equation} \label{eq:15}
M_{\nu}=\left(\begin{array}{ccc}
K_{1} & -K_{2} & -K_{1} \\
-K_{2} &K_{3}&K_{2}\\
-K_{1} &K_{2}& K_{1}
\end{array}\right)
\end{equation}
where,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:15a}
K_{1} = -\frac{m_{D}^{2}r_{1}^{2}}{m_{R}(2+ r_{2}-r_{2}^{2})}
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}\label{eq:15b}
K_{2} = \frac{m_{D}^{2}r_{1}(-1+r_{1}(-1+r_{2}))}{m_{R}(2+ r_{2}-r_{2}^{2})}
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}\label{eq:15c}
K_{3} = -\frac{m_{D}^{2}(1+3 r_{1}^{2} - 2 r_{1}(-1+r_{2}) )}{m_{R}(2+ r_{2}-r_{2}^{2})}
\end{equation}
The effective seesaw mass matrix in Eq.(\ref{eq:15}) can be diagonalised in two steps using the unitary matrix $U_{BM}$ and $U_{\theta}$ as,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:16}
U_{\theta}^{T}U_{BM}^{T}M_{\nu}U_{BM}U_{\theta}= \text{diag}(m_{1},m_{2},m_{3})
\end{equation}
or one may write,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:17a}
M_{\nu}= U_{BM}U_{\theta}\text{diag}(m_{1},m_{2},m_{3})U_{\theta}^{T}U_{BM}^{T}
\end{equation}
The matrix $U_{\theta}$ and the bimaximal matrix $U_{BM}$ in the Eq.(\ref{eq:16}) are given by,
\begin{equation} \label{eq:17}
U_{\theta}= \left(\begin{array}{ccc}
1 & 0 &0\\
0 & \text{cos}\theta & \text{sin}\theta\\
0 &-\text{sin}\theta&\text{cos}\theta
\end{array}\right),\; U_{BM} = \left(\begin{array}{ccc}
\frac{1}{\sqrt{2}} & 0 & -\frac{1}{\sqrt{2}} \\
0 & 1 & 0\\
\frac{1}{\sqrt{2}} & 0 &\frac{1}{\sqrt{2}}
\end{array}\right)
\end{equation}
Comparing Eq.(\ref{eq:16}) with Eq.(\ref{eq:1ee}), we can write the neutrino mixing matrix $U_{\nu}$ as,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:18}
U_{\nu} = U_{BM}U_{\theta}
\end{equation}
Therefore,using Eq.(\ref{eq:1ff}),the PMNS matrix in this model can be expressed as,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:19}
U_{PMNS} \simeq U_{L}U_{BM}U_{\theta}
\end{equation}
Here, $U_{L}U_{BM}$ is the tri-bimaximal (TBM) mixing matrix,$U_{TBM}$. The multiplication of $U_{TBM}$ and $U_{\theta}$ mixes the 2nd and the 3rd columns of $U_{TBM}$ resulting in $TM_{1}$ mixing matrix $U_{TM1}$. Our construction of $M_{\nu}$ given in Eq.(\ref{eq:15}) leading to $TM_{1}$ mixing implies that $m_{1}= 0$, which rules out inverted hierarchy. Using this in Eq.(\ref{eq:17a}) and comparing with Eq.(\ref{eq:15}), we can find the expressions for model parameters $K_{1}$,$K_{2}$ and $K_{3}$ in terms of the parameters $\theta$, $m_{2}$ and $m_{3}$ as,
\begin{equation}
K_{1} = \frac{1}{2}(m_{3}\text{cos}^{2}\theta+ m_{2}\text{sin}^{2}\theta)
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}
K_{2} = \frac{1}{\sqrt{2}}(m_{3}-m_{2})\text{cos}\theta\text{sin}\theta
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}
K_{3} = m_{2}\text{cos}^{2}\theta+ m_{3}\text{sin}^{2}\theta
\end{equation}
\subsection{Sterile Neutrino Mass and Mixing in the Model}
Apart from the active neutrinos, the mass and mixing of the sterile neutrino present in the model play crucial role in cLFV processes which will be discussed in the next section. As mentioned above, the sterile neutrino mass can be obtained using Eq.(\ref{eq:1a}) and we can write the mass term for sterile neutrino as,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:d1}
m_{4} = \frac{m_{S}^{2}(-2-2 r_{2} +2 r_{2}^{2})}{m_{R}(-1+2 r_{2}^{2})}
\end{equation}
The active-sterile mixing using Eq.(\ref{eq:1b}) and Eq.(\ref{eq:1c}) can be obtained as,
\begin{equation}\label{eq:d2}
U_{e4} = \frac{m_{D}(-1+r_{1}-r_{2} +2 r_{1} r_{2})}{\sqrt{3}m_{S}(-2-2 r_{2}+2 r_{2}^{2})}
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}\label{eq:d3}
U_{\mu4} = \frac{m_{D}((1- i\sqrt{3})(1+ r_{2})+r_{1}(2+ 2 i \sqrt{3}+r_{2} +3i \sqrt{3}r_{2}))}{2 \sqrt{3} m_{S}(-2-2 r_{2}+2 r_{2}^{2})}
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}\label{eq:d4}
U_{\tau4} = \frac{m_{D}((1+ i\sqrt{3})(1+ r_{2})+r_{1}(2-2 i \sqrt{3}+r_{2} -3i \sqrt{3}r_{1}) )}{2 \sqrt{3} m_{S}(-2-2 r_{2}+2 r_{2}^{2})}
\end{equation}
In the above Eqs.(\ref{eq:d1},\ref{eq:d2},\ref{eq:d3},\ref{eq:d4}), $m_{D}$,$m_{R}$,$r_{1}$ and $r_{2}$ are the model parameters.
\section{\label{sec:level3}Charged Lepton Flavor Violating Processes}
\subsection{\label{sec:level3.1}Processes involving Muonic atoms}
Many on-going experiments like MECO, SINDRUM II \cite{Bertl:2006up},COMET \cite{Cui:2009zz} are involved in searching for $\mu-e$ conversion with different targets. The observable characterizing this process is defined as ,
\begin{equation}
CR (\mu-e,N) = \frac{\Gamma(\mu^{-}+ N\rightarrow e^{-}+N)}{\Gamma(\mu^{-}+ N\rightarrow \text{all capture})}
\end{equation}
These experiments are running with different targets like Titanium (Ti), Lead (Pb), Gold (Au) Aluminum (Al) and give bounds for different targets. There are also some planned future experiments like the second phase of COMET experiment, Mu2e \cite{Carey:2008zz} to improve the sensitivity to this cLFV process. \\
There are several theoretical models to account for such rare LFV processes. As explained in \cite{Abada:2015oba}, in the extension of standard model with one heavy sterile neutrino, such processes originate from one-loop diagrams involving active and sterile neutrinos with non zero mixing angles. In the MES model,the conversion ratio can be written as \cite{Abada:2015oba},
\begin{equation}
CR (\mu-e,N) = \frac{2 G_{F}^{2}\alpha_{\omega}^{2}m_{\mu}^{5}} {(4\pi)^{2}\Gamma_{cap}(Z)}\mathrel{\Big|}4V^{(p)}(2\tilde{F_{u}^{\mu e}}+\tilde{F_{d}^{\mu e}})+4 V^{(n)}(\tilde{F_{u}^{\mu e}}+2\tilde{F_{d}^{\mu e}})+ DG_{\gamma}^{\mu e}\frac{s_{\omega}^{2}}{2\sqrt{4\pi\alpha}}\mathrel{\Big|}^{2}
\end{equation}
In the above expression, $G_{F}$,$s_{\omega}$,$\Gamma_{cap}(Z)$ are Fermi constant, sine of weak mixing angle and capture rate of the nucleus respectively. Here, $\alpha=\frac{e^{2}}{4\pi}$ and $\tilde{F}_{q}^{\mu e}$ are form factors given as,
\begin{equation}
\tilde{F}_{q}^{\mu e}= Q_{q}s_{\omega}^{2} F_{\gamma}^{\mu e}+F_{Z}^{\mu e}(\frac{I_{q}^{3}}{2}- Q_{q}s_{\omega}^{2})+\frac{1}{4}F_{Box}^{\mu e qq}
\end{equation}
Here, $Q_{q}$ represents the quark electric charge which is $\frac{2}{3}$ and $-\frac{1}{3}$ for up and down quark respectively. The weak isospin $I_{q}^{3}$ is $\frac{1}{2}$ and $-\frac{1}{2}$ for up and down quark respectively. The numerical values of $V^{(p)}$,$V^{(n)}$ and D in \cite{Ilakovac:1994kj}. In the small limit of masses ($x_{j}= \frac{m_{\nu j}^{2}}{m_{W}^{2}}\ll 1$), the form factors can be written as \cite{Abada:2015oba},
\begin{equation}\label{eq:11}
F_{\gamma}^{\mu e} \rightarrow \sum_{j=1}^{3+ n_{S}} U_{ej} U_{\mu j}^{ \ast}[-x_{j}]
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}\label{eq:12}
G_{\gamma}^{\mu e} \rightarrow \sum_{j=1}^{3+ n_{S}} U_{ej}U_{\mu j}^{ \ast}[\frac{x_{j}}{4}]
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}\label{eq:13}
F_{Z}^{\mu e} \rightarrow \sum_{j=1}^{3+ n_{S}} U_{ej}U_{\mu j}^{ \ast}[x_{j}(-\frac{5}{2}-ln x_{j})]
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}\label{eq:14}
F_{Box}^{\mu eee} \rightarrow \sum_{j=1}^{3+ n_{S}} U_{ej} U_{\mu j}^{ \ast}[2 x_{j}(1+ln x_{j})]
\end{equation}
There may be flavour violating non-radiative decay of $\mu^{-}$ into three electrons ($\mu\longrightarrow eee$) \cite{Kitano:2002mt}. Mu3e experiment running at PSI aims at finding the signatures of this type of decay \cite{Willmann:1998gd}. The branching ratio of this decay process can be written as,
\begin{align}
BR(\mu\longrightarrow eee)& = \frac{\alpha_{\omega}^{4}} {24576 \pi^{3}}\frac{m_{\mu}^{4}} {m_{W}^{4}}\frac{m_{\mu}} {\Gamma_{\mu}}2\mathrel{\Big|}\frac{1}{2} F_{Box}^{\mu eee}+F_{Z}^{\mu e}-2 s_{\omega}^{2}(F_{Z}^{\mu e}-F_{\gamma}^{\mu e})\mathrel{\Big|}^{2}+ 4 s_{\omega}^{4}|F_{Z}^{\mu e}- F_{\gamma}^{\mu e}|^{2} \nonumber \\
& + 16 s_{\omega}^{2} Re[(F_{Z}^{\mu e}+ \frac{1}{2} F_{Box}^{\mu eee})G_{\gamma}^{\mu e\ast}]-48 s_{\omega}^{4} Re[(F_{Z}^{\mu e}- F_{\gamma}^{\mu e})G_{\gamma}^{\mu e\ast}]\nonumber \\
&+ 32 s_{\omega}^{4}|G_{\gamma}^{\mu e}|^{2}[ln\frac{m_{\mu}^{2}}{m_{e}^{2}}-\frac{11}{4}]
\end{align}
In the above equation, the form factors can be obtained from Eq.(\ref{eq:11}) to Eq.(\ref{eq:14}).
The MEG experiment \cite{Adam:2013mnn} aims at investigating LFV process $\mu\longrightarrow e \gamma$ and there are many planned projects in search for this kind of decay. In the framework of minimal extended seesaw, the heavy neutrinos can cause $\mu\longrightarrow e \gamma$ decay. The branching ratio of the process can be given as,
\begin{equation}
BR(\mu\longrightarrow e\gamma) = \frac{\alpha_{\omega}^{3}s_{\omega}^{2}} {256 \pi^{2}}\frac{m_{\mu}^{4}} {M_{W}^{4}}\frac{m_{\mu}} {\Gamma_{\mu}}|G_{\gamma}^{\mu e}|^{2}
\end{equation}
In the above equation,the total decay width of muon ($\Gamma_{\mu}$) is obtained as,
\begin{equation}
\Gamma_{\mu} = \frac{G_{F}^{2}m_{\mu}^{5}}{192 \pi^{3}}(1-8 \frac{m_{e}^{2}}{m_{\mu}^{2}})[1+\frac{\alpha_{em}}{2\pi}(\frac{25}{4}-\pi^{2})]
\end{equation}
Another possible cLFV process is the decay of a bound $\mu^{-}$ in a muonic atom into a pair of electrons $(\mu^{-}e^{-}\longrightarrow e^{-}e^{-})$ proposed by \cite{PhysRevLett.105.121601}. This particular decay process offers several advantages over three body decay processes from the experimental point of view. There are different classes of extension of SM which can show a contribution to such processes. In this model with one extra sterile state, the effective Lagrangian describing this process contains long range interactions and local interaction terms. The branching ratio of such process in muonic atoms,with an atomic number Z can be expressed as,
\begin{align}
BR(\mu^{-}e^{-}\longrightarrow e^{-}e^{-},N)& = 24 \pi f_{Coul}(Z)\alpha_{\omega}\frac{m_{e}^{3}} {m_{\mu}^{3}}\frac{\tilde{\tau}_{\mu}} {\tau_{\mu}}(16|\frac{1}{2} (\frac{g_{\omega}}{4 \pi})^{2} (\frac{1}{2}F_{Box}^{\mu eee}+F_{Z}^{\mu e}-2 s_{\omega}^{2}(F_{Z}^{\mu e}-F_{\gamma}^{\mu e}))|^{2}\nonumber \\
&+4|\frac{1}{2} (\frac{g_{\omega}}{4 \pi})^{2}2 s_{\omega}^{2} (F_{Z}^{\mu e}- F_{\gamma}^{\mu e})|^{2}
\end{align}
Here, $\tau_{\mu}$ represents the lifetime of free muon and the lifetime $\tilde{\tau}_{\mu}$ depends on specific elements. In our analysis, we have considered Al and Au in which value of $\tilde{\tau}_{\mu}$ are $8.64\times10^{-7}$ and $7.26\times10^{-8}$ respectively. This decay process would possibly be probed in the COMET collaboration. As suggested in many literature, we have used the future sensitivity of $CR (\mu-e,N)$ to constrain such decay process.
\subsection{\label{sec:level3.2}Processes involving Tau leptons}
There are many flavor violating channels open for tau lepton decays. Search for such decays involving taus is also challenging. Theoretical models which predict cLFV in the muon indicate a violation in the tau sector also. However, the amplitude of the process involving tau channel is enhanced by several order of magnitude in comparison to muon decays. Experiments like BaBar \cite{PhysRevLett.104.021802} and Belle \cite{Miyazaki:2011xe} provide limits to cLFV decays involving tau leptons. In this work, we have investigated three processes involving tau leptons $\tau\longrightarrow e\gamma$, $\tau\longrightarrow \mu\gamma$ and $\tau\longrightarrow eee$. The branching ratios of these mentioned process can be written as \cite{Ilakovac:1994kj},
\begin{equation}\label{eq:10a}
BR(\tau\longrightarrow e\gamma) = \frac{\alpha_{\omega}^{3}s_{\omega}^{2}} {256 \pi^{2}}\frac{m_{\tau}^{4}} {m_{W}^{4}}\frac{m_{\tau}} {\Gamma_{\tau}}|G_{\gamma}^{\tau e}|^{2}
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}\label{eq:10b}
BR(\tau\longrightarrow \mu\gamma) = \frac{\alpha_{\omega}^{3}s_{\omega}^{2}} {256 \pi^{2}}\frac{m_{\tau}^{4}} {m_{W}^{4}}\frac{m_{\tau}} {\Gamma_{\tau}}|G_{\gamma}^{\tau\mu}|^{2}
\end{equation}
In the above equations, $\Gamma_{\tau}$ represents the total width of tau leptons with experimental value $\Gamma_{\tau}= 2.1581\times 10^{-12}$ GeV \cite{Ilakovac:1994kj}.
\begin{align}\label{eq:10c}
BR(\tau\longrightarrow eee)& = \frac{\alpha_{\omega}^{4}} {24576 \pi^{3}}\frac{m_{\tau}^{4}} {m_{W}^{4}}\frac{m_{\tau}} {\Gamma_{\tau}}2\mathrel{\Big|}\frac{1}{2} F_{Box}^{\tau eee}+F_{Z}^{\tau e}-2 s_{\omega}^{2}(F_{Z}^{\tau e}-F_{\gamma}^{\tau e})\mathrel{\Big|}^{2}+ 4 s_{\omega}^{4}|F_{Z}^{\tau e}- F_{\gamma}^{\tau e}|^{2} \nonumber \\
& + 16 s_{\omega}^{2} Re[(F_{Z}^{\tau e}+ \frac{1}{2} F_{Box}^{\tau eee})G_{\gamma}^{\tau e\ast}]-48 s_{\omega}^{4} Re[(F_{Z}^{\tau e}- F_{\gamma}^{\tau e})G_{\gamma}^{\tau e\ast}]\nonumber \\
&+ 32 s_{\omega}^{4}|G_{\gamma}^{\tau e}|^{2}[ln\frac{m_{\tau}^{2}}{m_{e}^{2}}-\frac{11}{4}]
\end{align}
where, the composite form factors $F_{\gamma}^{\tau e}$,$G_{\gamma}^{\tau e}$,$F_{Z}^{\tau e}$ and $F_{Box}^{\tau eee}$ can be defined as follows:
\begin{equation}
F_{\gamma}^{\tau e} \rightarrow \sum U_{ej} U_{\tau j}^{ \ast}[-x_{j}]
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}
G_{\gamma}^{\tau e} \rightarrow \sum U_{ej}U_{\tau j}^{ \ast}[\frac{x_{j}}{4}]
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}
F_{Z}^{\tau e} \rightarrow \sum U_{ej}U_{\tau j}^{ \ast}[x_{j}(-\frac{5}{2}-ln x_{j})]
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}
F_{Box}^{\tau eee} \rightarrow \sum U_{ej} U_{\tau j}^{ \ast}[2 x_{j}(1+ln x_{j})]
\end{equation}
\section{\label{sec:level4} Neutrinoless Double Beta Decay (0$\nu\beta\beta$)}
The presence of sterile neutrinos in addition to the standard model particles may lead to new contributions to lepton number violating interactions like neutrinoless double beta decay(0$\nu\beta\beta$)\cite{Benes:2005hn,Awasthi:2013we,Borgohain:2018lro}. We have studied the contributions of the sterile state to the effective electron neutrino majorana mass $m_{\beta\beta}$ \cite{Abada:2018qok,Blennow:2010th}. The most stringent bounds on the effective mass by provided by KamLAND-ZEN experiment \cite{KamLAND-Zen:2016pfg}.
\begin{equation}\label{eq:20}
m_{\beta\beta} < 0.061- 0.165 eV
\end{equation}
The amplitude of these processes depends upon the neutrino mixing matrix elements and the neutrino masses. The decay width of the process is proportional to the effective electron neutrino majorana mass $m_{\beta\beta}$ which is in the case of standard contribution i.e. in the absence of any sterile neutrino is given as ,
\begin{equation}
m_{\beta\beta} = \mathrel{\Big|}\sum_{i = 1}^{3}{U_{ei}}^{2}m_{i}\mathrel{\Big|}
\end{equation}
The above equation is modified with the addition of sterile fermions and is given by \cite{Abada:2018qok}
\begin{equation}\label{eq:21}
m_{\beta\beta} =\mathrel{\Big|}\sum_{i = 1}^{3}{U_{ei}}^{2}m_{i} + {U_{e4}}^{2}m_{4}\mathrel{\Big|}
\end{equation}
where, $m_{4}$ and ${U_{e4}}$ represent the mass and mixing of the sterile neutrino to the electron neutrino respectively.
\section{\label{sec:level5} Results of Numerical Analysis and Discussions}
It is evident from the above discussion that the neutrino mass matrix in Eq. (\ref{eq:15}) contains three model parameters $K_{1}$,$K_{2}$,$K_{3}$. We can express the experimentally measured six oscillation parameters $\textstyle {\Delta m_{21}^{2}}$, $\textstyle \Delta m_{31}^{2}$, $\textstyle \sin^{2}\theta_{12}$, $\textstyle \sin^{2}\theta_{23}$, $\sin^{2}\theta_{13}$, $\textstyle\delta_{CP}$ in terms of these model parameters. Hence, the three model parameters can be evaluated by comparing with the three oscillation parameters in $3\sigma$ range as given in table \ref{tab3} and then constrain the other parameters. These parameters $\textstyle K_{1}$, $\textstyle K_{2}$, $\textstyle K_{3}$ in turn are related to $m_{D}$,$m_{R}$,$r_{1}$ and $r_{2}$ as given in Eqs.(\ref{eq:15a},\ref{eq:15b},\ref{eq:15c}) which are functions of Yukawa couplings and VEV's of the scalars. In our model, we have evaluated the model parameters comparing with experimental range of $\textstyle \Delta m_{21}^{2}$, $\textstyle \Delta m_{31}^{2}$, $\textstyle \sin^{2}\theta_{13}$. Since the lightest neutrino mass is zero in MES model, hence $\textstyle \Delta m_{21}^{2}$ and $\textstyle \Delta m_{31}^{2}$ will correspond the other two masses. Our construction of MES model with $TM_{1}$ mixing rules out the inverted ordering (IO) of the neutrino masses. The inverted ordering is disfavored with a $\textstyle\Delta\chi^{2} = 4.7$ \cite{Esteban:2018azc}. Hence, our results is in good agreement with the latest global data. Fig \ref{fig1a} represents correlation of different neutrino oscillation parameters with the model parameters.
\begin{table}[H]
\centering
\begin{tabular}{|c|c|}
\hline
Oscillation parameters & 3$\sigma$(NO) \\
\hline
$\frac{\Delta m_{21}^{2}}{10^{-5}eV^{2}}$ & 6.80 - 8.02 \\
$\frac{\Delta m_{31}^{2}}{10^{-3}eV^{2}}$ & 2.40 - 2.60 \\
$\sin^{2}\theta_{13}$ & 0.0198 - 0.0243 \\
\hline
\end{tabular}
\caption{Latest Global fit neutrino oscillation Data.}\label{tab3}
\end{table}
\begin{figure}[H]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{K}
\end{center}
\begin{center}
\caption{Correlation plots for the model parameters (in eV).}
\label{figmodel}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
$TM_{1}$ with $\mu \text{-}\tau$ symmetry fixes the atmospheric mixing angle $\theta_{23}$ be $\frac{\pi}{4}$ i.e maximal atmospheric mixing angle. We have seen the predictions of the model on Jarlskog parameter $J_{CP}$ and the Dirac CP phase $\delta_{CP}$ by evaluating these two parameters using Eq.(\ref{eq:2b}). The model predicts maximal $\delta_{CP}$ which is consistent with the current global fit. We have also calculated the sum of the three light neutrino masses from the model parameters. It predicts $\sum m_{i}$ within the range ($0.057-0.059$) which is below the cosmological upper bounds. Thus it is clear that the predictions of the model comply with the latest neutrino and cosmology data.
\begin{figure}[H]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=0.85\textwidth]{grid}
\end{center}
\begin{center}
\caption{The allowed region of $\Delta m^{2}_{31}$,$\Delta m^{2}_{21}$ and mixing angle $\sin^{2}\theta_{13}$ as a function of model parameters.}
\label{fig1a}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
\begin{table}[H]
\centering
\begin{tabular}{|c|c|c|}
\hline
Parameters & Predictions (NH) & Experimental Range \\
\hline
$m_{\beta\beta}$ & (0.014 - 0.016)eV & <0.06 eV \\
$\sum m_{i}$ & (0.057 - 0.059)eV & <0.11 eV\\
\hline
\end{tabular}
\caption{Predictions of the model on different parameters. The value of $m_{\beta\beta}$ is taken from KamLAND-ZEN experiment \cite{KamLAND-Zen:2016pfg} and $\sum m_{i}$ from latest Planck data \cite{Aghanim:2018eyx}.}\label{tab4}
\end{table}
Apart from studying active neutrino phenomenology, we have calculated different observables related to the different cLFV processes with the numerically evaluated model parameters. All the masses and mixing in the model are dependent on the model parameters which are highly constrained from the neutrino oscillation data. The masses and mixing of the active as well as sterile neutrinos in turn are related to the observables of different cLFV processes and also $0\nu\beta\beta$ process as mentioned above. Hence, the same set of model parameters which are supposed to produce correct neutrino phenomenology can also be used to estimate the observables of different low energy processes. Thus this model is constrained from these processes also. The motivation is to see if the neutrino mass matrix that can explain the neutrino phenomenology can also provide sufficient parameter space for other low energy observables $0\nu\beta\beta$, cLFV etc. We also correlate the sterile neutrino mass with $0\nu\beta\beta$ and cLFV processes to see the impact of sterile neutrino.
The effective mass ($m_{\beta\beta}$) characterizing $0\nu\beta\beta$ process along with the presence of heavy sterile neutrino is calculated using Eq.(\ref{eq:21}). Fig \ref{fig2} shows the effective mass against the sterile neutrino mass and mixing. For new physics contribution coming from extra sterile neutrino, the effective mass is consistent with the upper bound ($|m_{\beta\beta}|\leq 0.06 eV$) followed from the data of KamLAND-ZEN \cite{KamLAND-Zen:2016pfg} experiment. It has been observed that the presence of sterile neutrino in the model results in a effective mass larger than that coming from the standard contribution (in the absence of sterile neutrino). However, even in the presence of such heavy sterile neutrino, the effective mass satisfies the experimental limit as the mixing of sterile neutrino with active neutrinos decreases with increase in mass in the model. Fig \ref{fig2a} shows variation of effective mass as a function of the parameter $\theta$ characterizing the $TM_{1}$ mixing. This plot shows how the model with $TM_{1}$ mixing constrains effective neutrino mass $m_{\beta\beta}$.
\begin{figure}[H]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{m-effmass}
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{U-effmass}
\end{center}
\begin{center}
\caption{The prediction of the effective neutrino mass as a function of sterile neutrino mass and mixing.}
\label{fig2}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
\begin{figure}[H]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{theta-effmass}
\end{center}
\begin{center}
\caption{The prediction of the effective neutrino mass as a function of $TM_{1}$ mixing parameter $Sin\theta$.}
\label{fig2a}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
We have performed the analysis of $\mu-e$ conversion with two different targets- Aluminium (Al) and Gold (Au). Fig \ref{fig5} shows the calculated conversion ratios with these two target as a function of the mass of the sterile neutrinos. In both the cases the results are within the reach of current and future experiments. It has been observed that sterile neutrino with mass $10^{8}$ GeV can lead to such process within the experimental bound.
\begin{figure}[H]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{mu-eAl}
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{mu-eAu}
\end{center}
\begin{center}
\caption{$\text{CR}(\mu-e,N)$ as a function of sterile neutrino mass with two different targets. The blue horizontal line represents the experimental bounds on this process.}
\label{fig5}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
We have seen the sterile neutrino contribution to process $\mu^{-}e^{-}\longrightarrow e^{-}e^{-}$ in the model. Fig \ref{fig6} shows the variation of branching ratios with the mass of the sterile neutrinos. It has been observed that for targets with Al the experimental limits are reached for lower value of mass of the sterile neutrinos (around $10^{8}$ GeV) than in case with Au (around $2.5\times10^{9}$ Gev). This shows that the cLFV process induced by an additional sterile neutrinos could certainly be probed in near future experiments with Aluminium targets. The stringent bound on sterile neutrino mass to cause such process is around $3\times10^{8}$ GeV.
\begin{figure}[H]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{mu-eeAl}
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{mu-eeAu}
\end{center}
\begin{center}
\caption{$\text{BR}(\mu^{-}e^{-}\longrightarrow e^{-}e^{-},N)$ as a function of sterile neutrino mass with two different targets. The blue horizontal line represents the experimental bounds on this process.}
\label{fig6}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
Fig \ref{fig7} indicates the impacts of sterile neutrino in $\mu\longrightarrow eee$ process. It is evident from the figure that the branching ratios have a stronger experimental potential, with contributions well within current (future) experimental reach for sterile masses above $2\times10^{9}$ ($10^{8}$) GeV.
\begin{figure}[H]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=0.55\textwidth]{mu-eee}
\end{center}
\begin{center}
\caption{$\text{BR} (\mu-eee)$ as a function of sterile neutrino mass. The red horizontal line represents the experimental bounds on this process.}
\label{fig7}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
The branching ratios of another appealing process $\mu\longrightarrow e\gamma$ in presence of heavy sterile neutrino as a function of its mass is shown in fig \ref{fig7a}. It is seen that the results are well within current (future) experimental reach for sterile masses above $2\times10^{9}$ ($10^{9}$) GeV.
\begin{figure}[H]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=0.55\textwidth]{mu-e}
\end{center}
\begin{center}
\caption{$\text{BR} (\mu-e\gamma)$ as a function of sterile neutrino mass. The red horizontal line represents the experimental bounds on this process.}
\label{fig7a}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
Similarly,we have carried out our analysis for processes involving tau atoms and calculated the observables using Eq.(\ref{eq:10a},\ref{eq:10b},\ref{eq:10c}).The results are shown in the following figs \ref{fig8},\ref{fig9},\ref{fig10}. It is observed that the sterile neutrino can have sizable contributions to such processes only when it has mass above $10^{9}$ GeV which is quite higher than that in case of processes involving muonic atoms. For the process $\tau\longrightarrow e\gamma$, the current experimental bound on branching ratio is achieved for $m_{s}>2\times10^{12}$ GeV, however lower mass of sterile neutrino (around $10^{12}$) can contribute to such process in future experiments as shown in fig \ref{fig8}. Fig \ref{fig9} indicates that the contributions of sterile neutrino in the process $\tau\longrightarrow \mu\gamma$ which are well within the current experimental limit for $m_{s}>2\times10^{12}$ GeV and the sensitivity of future experiments is reached for lower mass of sterile neutrino (around $5\times10^{11}$). For the process $\tau\longrightarrow eee$, the current and future experimental bound on branching ratio is achieved for $m_{s}>10^{12}$ GeV and around $3\times10^{11}$ respectively which can be seen in fig \ref{fig8}. In the table (\ref{tab5}), we have summarised the constraints on sterile neutrino mass coming from different cLFV processes.
\begin{figure}[H]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{tau-e}
\end{center}
\begin{center}
\caption{$\text{BR} (\tau-e\gamma)$ as a function of sterile neutrino mass. The blue horizontal line represents the experimental bounds on this process.}
\label{fig8}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
\begin{figure}[H]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{tau-mu}
\end{center}
\begin{center}
\caption{$\text{BR}(\tau-\mu\gamma)$ as a function of sterile neutrino mass. The blue horizontal line represents the experimental bounds on this process.}
\label{fig9}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
\begin{figure}[H]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=0.45\textwidth]{tau-eee}
\end{center}
\begin{center}
\caption{$\text{BR} (\tau-eee)$ as a function of sterile neutrino mass. The blue horizontal line represents the experimental bounds on this process.}
\label{fig10}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
\begin{table}[H]
\centering
\begin{tabular}{|c|c|}
\hline
cLFV Process & Bounds on sterile neutrino mass \\
\hline
$(\mu e\longrightarrow ee,Al)$ & $3\times10^{8}$\\
\hline
$(\mu e\longrightarrow ee,Au)$ & $2.5\times10^{9}$\\
\hline
$\mu\longrightarrow eee$ & $10^{8}$ \\
\hline
$\mu\longrightarrow e\gamma$ & $10^{9}$ \\
\hline
$(\mu - e,Al)$ & $2\times10^{8}$\\
\hline
$(\mu - e,Au)$ & $5\times10^{8}$\\
\hline
$\tau\longrightarrow e\gamma$ & $10^{12}$ \\
\hline
$\tau\longrightarrow \mu\gamma$& $5\times10^{11}$ \\
\hline
$\tau\longrightarrow eee$& $3\times10^{11}$ \\
\hline
\end{tabular}
\caption{Constraints on sterile neutrino mass from different cLFV processes.}\label{tab5}
\end{table}
\section{\label{sec:level6}Conclusion}
In this work, we have studied the effect of sterile neutrino on the low energy processes focusing on charged lepton flavor violation and neutrinoless double beta decay. The framework of our study is an MES model which is obtained by the addition of a triplet of right handed neutrinos and a sterile neutrino singlet field to the standard model. The gauge group of standard model is extended by the flavor symmetry group $\Delta(96)$ along with two $C_{2}$ groups and one $C_{3}$ group. The model is constructed in such a way that it gives rise to a special mixing pattern known as $TM_{1}$ mixing. The model leading to $TM_{1}$ mixing with $\mu \text{-}\tau$ symmetry predicts maximal atmospheric mixing angle and maximal breaking of the CP symmetry. These two important constraints of the model comply with the experimental data. Moreover, our construction of the model rules out inverted ordering of the neutrino masses.
The model is represented by three model parameters that have been evaluated by comparing the light neutrino oscillation parameters in $3\sigma$ range. We have obtained the sterile neutrino mass and mixing from the model parameters. We then feed the model parameters in calculating different observables characterizing different low energy processes. Sizeable implications for 0$\nu\beta\beta$ can be obtained within the MES model with $TM_{1}$ mixing. The texture of the mass matrices predict the effective mass $m_{\beta\beta}$ that is consistent with the experimental data. We have investigated different cLFV processes involving muon and tau leptons. It has been observed that wide range of parameter space has the possibility to be probed in near future experiments. There are no theoretical upper bounds on the mass of the sterile neutrino. However, in this model the different cLFV processes highly constrain the mass of sterile neutrino. In this work, we have summarized the limits on the mass of the sterile neutrino to contribute such processes. Another important conclusion that can be drawn from the present work is that the sterile neutrino mass range allowed by different cLFV processes can give rise to effective neutrino mass within the experimental limits. Thus the two low energy observables can also be correlated in the proposed model.
In conclusion, the MES model with $\Delta96$ discrete flavor symmetry can address neutrino phenomenology in presence of heavy sterile neutrino with the prediction of experimentally observed neutrino parameters. We have shown that the model have interesting implications in rare decay experiments like lepton flavor violation and also neutrinoless double beta decay. The estimation of the model on baryon asymmetry of the universe (BAU) can also be studied in future.
| {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaArXiv"
} | 8,789 |
\section{Introduction}
This paper discusses the production of the neutral strange particles $\Lambda$, $\bar{\Lambda}$\footnote{Hereafter,both $\Lambda$ and $\bar{\Lambda}$ are referred to as $\Lambda$, unless explicit comparison are made.} and $K^0_s$ in deep inelastic scattering at HERA. As well as measuring differential cross sections for their production, the baryon-antibaryon asymmetry and the baryon to meson ratio are investigated, and a first ZEUS measurement of the transverse and longitudinal $\Lambda$ polarization is made.
All of these measurements endeavour to clarify in different ways the transition from quark to hadron. For example the $\Lambda$ to $K^0_s$ ratio has been measured in $e^+ e^-$ colliders \cite{PDBook} and in heavy ion collisions \cite{rhic_ratio}. The ZEUS measurement in $ep$ collisions adds more information in trying to understand when a baryon is produced, and when a meson.
$\Lambda$ transverse polarization also gives information on hadron production. The DeGrand-Miettinen model \cite{degrand} explains the $\Lambda$ spin as being carried predominantly by the s quark which picks up polarization via Thomas Precession when it is accelerated. Hence a measurement of the transverse polarization will give information on the initial direction of the s quark that ends up in the $\Lambda$.
Observing these particles also allows an investigation into baryon number and how it is transported. Significant baryon number
transport over several units of rapdidity has been observed in heavy ion
collisions \cite{rhic_baryon}. Various models have been developed to explain this, including associating baryon number with valence quarks and moving it through rapidity by multiple scattering \cite{rhic_valence} or associating baryon number with a gluonic junction \cite{rhic_gluon}. In HERA $ep$ collisions initially a baryon number of +1 exists as the proton moving down the beampipe. The possibility of this baryon number being observed in the $\Lambda$ system in the central rapidity region is investigated.
\section{Event Selection and Analysis}
This analysis uses an inclusive sample of neutral current deep inelastic scattering (DIS) events collected by ZEUS in the 1996-2000 HERA running period, corresponding to an integrated luminosity of 120 $\rm{pb}^{-1}$. The kinematic region was $Q^2> 25 \rm{GeV}^2$ and $0.02 < y < 0.95$.
$\Lambda$ and $K^0_s$ are detected in the $p\pi$ and $\pi^+ \pi^-$ decay channels
respectively. A secondary vertex is observed and the mass is reconstructed from the momenta of
two oppositely charged tracks coming from the vertex. Both tracks are assumed to have the mass of a $\pi^+$ (for
$K^0_s$) or the track with the most momentum has the proton mass and the
other the mass of a $\pi^+$ (for $\Lambda$). Combinatorial background is
removed with a bin-by-bin sideband subtraction method.
The $\Lambda$ polarization is measured via the angular distribution of the decay products:
\begin{eqnarray}
\frac{dN}{d\Omega} \propto \frac{1}{4\pi}(1 \pm \alpha P \cos\theta)
\end{eqnarray}
in the $\Lambda$ rest frame, where $\alpha = 0.642 \pm 0.013$\cite{PDBook} is the decay asymmetry parameter and
$P$ is the polarization. $\theta$ is the angle between the decay proton momentum, $\vec{p}$
and the $\Lambda$ momentum, $\vec{P}_{\Lambda}$ (longitudinal polarization) or between
$\vec{p}$ and $\textbf{n}$ = $\vec{P}_{beam} \times \vec{P}_{\Lambda}$, where $\vec{P}_{beam}$ is the momentum of the electron beam (transverse polarization).
\section{Monte Carlo Simulation}
Data were corrected to hadron level by using the ARIADNE 4.08\cite{cpc:71:15} Monte Carlo (MC) interfaced to HERACLES
via DJANGOH 1.1\cite{spi:www:djangoh11}. The parton density functions were
taken from the CTEQ4D set.
The strange suppression factor, $\lambda_s$ was set to 0.3.
ARIADNE is based on the Color Dipole Model and the LUND string model\cite{prep:97:31} is used to simulate
the fragmentation of the partons.
The Ariadne prediction of the cross sections is also shown on the results plots.
\section{Results}
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[height=7cm]{prelim_pol_values}
\caption{Transverse and longitudinal $\Lambda$ and $\bar{\Lambda}$ polarization. \label{poln} }
\end{figure}
The results of the $\Lambda/\bar{\Lambda}$ polarization are presented in Fig. \ref{poln}. Averaged over
the full kinematic range, the transverse polarization of $\Lambda$ and $\bar{\Lambda}$ were observed to be
$+1.4\pm4.5$(stat)$^{+4.1}_{-1.9}$(syst)\% and $-1.8\pm4.4$(stat)$^{+3.1}_{-1.3}$(syst)\% respectively.
The longitudinal polarization of $\Lambda$ and $\bar{\Lambda}$ was also measured to be consistent with zero within the total uncertainties. The longitudinal polarization was observed to be $+0.3\pm10.3$(stat)$^{+0.1}_{-7.8}$(syst)\% for $\Lambda$ and
$+19.8\pm10.8$(stat)$^{+4.2}_{-12.6}$(syst)\% for $\bar{\Lambda}$.
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[height=9cm]{prelim_strange_pt}
\includegraphics[height=9cm]{prelim_strange_eta}
\caption{$\Lambda$ and $K^0_s$ cross sections, $\frac{\Lambda - \bar{\Lambda}}{\Lambda + \bar{\Lambda}}$ ratio and $\frac{\Lambda + \bar{\Lambda}}{K^0_s}$ ratio as a function of $P_T$ and $\eta$ \label{strange_pteta} }
\end{figure}
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[height=9cm]{prelim_strange_x}
\includegraphics[height=9cm]{prelim_strange_q2}
\caption{$\Lambda$ and $K^0_s$ cross sections, $\frac{\Lambda - \bar{\Lambda}}{\Lambda + \bar{\Lambda}}$ ratio and $\frac{\Lambda + \bar{\Lambda}}{K^0_s}$ ratio as a function of $x$ and $Q^2$ \label{strange_xq2}}
\end{figure}
The differential $\Lambda$ and $K^0_S$ cross sections, $\frac{\Lambda - \bar{\Lambda}}{\Lambda + \bar{\Lambda}}$
asymmetry and $\Lambda/K^0_S$ ratio as a function of $p_T$, $\eta$, $x$ and $Q^2$ are shown in Fig. \ref{strange_pteta} and Fig. \ref{strange_xq2}.
The MC generally describes the cross sections in the data.
However, the MC tends to overestimate the $K^0_s$ production, particularly at low
$P_T$.
The ratio $\frac{\Lambda - \bar{\Lambda}}{\Lambda + \bar{\Lambda}}$ as a function of all kinematic variables is consistent with zero.
The $\Lambda/K^0_S$ ratio is generally described by the MC. However, although the steep rise as $x$ decreases is modelled by the MC to some extent, it is not to the same degree. Other differences between the MC and the data can be seen as a function of $P_T$, where the $\Lambda/K^0_s$ ratio is in excess of the MC at low $P_T$, and as a function of $\eta$ where the MC is symmetric about $\eta = 0$, whereas the data shows an increase in this ratio as $\eta$ increases.
\section{Conclusions}
Using the model of Degrand and Miettinen \cite{degrand}, the lack of any
transverse polarization suggests that the strange quarks in the the $\Lambda$ baryons
observed by ZEUS do not come from any particular direction. The longitudinal
polarization being consistent with zero is as expected with HERA-I data, but
gives a measure of the potential to measure any polarization transfer from the
electron beam to the $\Lambda$ in HERA-II.
The $\Lambda/K^0_S$ ratio has been measured, and the data is generally described
by ARIADNE. Areas of the phase space do exist where the
MC is not sufficient to describe the data, particularly at low $P_T$ and
low $x$. No significant $\Lambda - \bar{\Lambda}$ asymmetry is seen.
\bibliographystyle{aipproc}
| {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaArXiv"
} | 6,209 |
var MotionSegment = require('./motionSegment');
var basicSegmentFactory = require('./basicSegment');
var Util = require('../util/util');
var FastMath = require('../util/fastMath');
var factory = {};
/**
* Cruise dwell motion segment constructor functions
* @param {Object} data contains data gathered from the user
* @param {Object} loads describes segment loads
*/
var CruiseDwellMotionSegment = function(data, loads) {
"use strict";
this.type = 'cruiseDwell';
this.initialTime = data.initialTime;
this.finalTime = data.finalTime;
if (data.permutation == 'time') {
data.finalPosition = data.initialPosition + data.velocity * (data.finalTime - data.initialTime);
} else if (data.permutation == 'distance') {
data.finalTime = data.initialTime + (data.finalPosition - data.initialPosition)/data.velocity;
}
this.segmentData = {
initialTime: data.initialTime,
finalTime: data.finalTime,
velocity: data.velocity,
initialPosition: data.initialPosition,
finalPosition: data.finalPosition,
duration: data.finalTime-data.initialTime,
distance: data.finalPosition-data.initialPosition,
permutation: data.permutation,
mode: data.mode,
};
MotionSegment.MotionSegment.call(this, this.segmentData.initialTime, this.segmentData.finalTime);
this.setBasicSegmentLoads(loads);
// if (this.segmentData.permutation == 'distance' && FastMath.lt(this.segmentData.duration, 0)) {
// throw new Error("Unable to create a cruise/dwell segment with zero initial velocity and non zero distance");
// }
if(FastMath.notEqual(this.segmentData.distance, 0) && FastMath.equal(this.segmentData.velocity, 0))
throw new Error("Unable to create a cruise/dwell segment with zero velocity and non zero distance");
var basicSegment = this.calculateBasicSegment(
this.segmentData.initialTime,
this.segmentData.finalTime,
this.segmentData.initialPosition,
this.segmentData.finalPosition,
this.segmentData.velocity
);
this.segments.initializeWithSegments(basicSegment);
};
CruiseDwellMotionSegment.prototype = Object.create(MotionSegment.MotionSegment.prototype);
CruiseDwellMotionSegment.prototype.constructor = CruiseDwellMotionSegment;
/**
* Modifies initial values with a new start point
* @param {MotionPoint} startPoint describes new initial conditions
* @return {CruiseDwellSegment} current segment
*/
CruiseDwellMotionSegment.prototype.modifyInitialValues = function(startPoint) {
var t0 = startPoint.time;
var v0 = startPoint.velocity;
var p0 = startPoint.position;
this.segmentData.velocity = v0;
if (this.segmentData.permutation == 'distance') {
this.segmentData.initialPosition = p0;
if (this.segmentData.mode == 'incremental') {
this.segmentData.finalPosition = this.segmentData.initialPosition + this.segmentData.distance;
} else if (this.segmentData.mode == 'absolute') {
this.segmentData.distance = this.segmentData.finalPosition - this.segmentData.initialPosition;
}
this.segmentData.initialTime = t0;
if(FastMath.notEqual(this.segmentData.distance,0) && FastMath.equal(this.segmentData.velocity,0))
throw new Error("Cannot modify cruise/dwell segment because of non-zero distance and zero velocity");
this.segmentData.duration = this.segmentData.distance/this.segmentData.velocity;
this.segmentData.finalTime = this.segmentData.initialTime + this.segmentData.duration;
} else if (this.segmentData.permutation == 'time') {
this.segmentData.initialTime = t0;
if (this.segmentData.mode == 'incremental') {
this.segmentData.finalTime = this.segmentData.initialTime + this.segmentData.duration;
} else if (this.segmentData.mode == 'absolute') {
this.segmentData.duration = this.segmentData.finalTime - t0;
}
this.segmentData.initialPosition = p0;
this.segmentData.distance = this.segmentData.velocity*this.segmentData.duration;
this.segmentData.finalPosition = this.segmentData.initialPosition + this.segmentData.distance;
}
if (FastMath.leq(this.segmentData.duration, 0)) {
throw new Error('Cannot have permutation distance and time <= 0');
}
this.initialTime = t0;
this.finalTime = this.segmentData.finalTime;
var newBasicSegment = this.calculateBasicSegment(
this.segmentData.initialTime,
this.segmentData.finalTime,
this.segmentData.initialPosition,
this.segmentData.finalPosition,
this.segmentData.velocity
);
this.segments.initializeWithSegments(newBasicSegment);
return this;
};
CruiseDwellMotionSegment.prototype.modifySegmentValues = function(newSegmentData, initialConditions) {
this.segmentData.mode = (newSegmentData.mode == 'absolute' || newSegmentData.mode == 'incremental') ? newSegmentData.mode : this.segmentData.mode;
this.segmentData.initialTime = (initialConditions.time || initialConditions.time === 0) ? initialConditions.time : this.segmentData.initialTime;
this.segmentData.initialPosition = (initialConditions.position || initialConditions.position === 0) ? initialConditions.position : this.segmentData.initialPosition;
this.segmentData.permutation = (newSegmentData.permutation == 'time' || newSegmentData.permutation == 'distance') ? newSegmentData.permutation : this.segmentData.permutation;
this.segmentData.velocity = (initialConditions.velocity || initialConditions.velocity === 0) ? initialConditions.velocity : this.segmentData.velocity;
if (this.segmentData.permutation == 'distance') {
if (this.segmentData.mode == 'incremental') {
this.segmentData.distance = (newSegmentData.distance || newSegmentData.distance === 0) ? newSegmentData.distance : this.segmentData.distance;
this.segmentData.finalPosition = this.segmentData.initialPosition + this.segmentData.distance;
} else if (this.segmentData.mode == 'absolute') {
this.segmentData.finalPosition = (newSegmentData.finalPosition || newSegmentData.finalPosition === 0) ? newSegmentData.finalPosition : this.segmentData.finalPosition;
this.segmentData.distance = this.segmentData.finalPosition - this.segmentData.initialPosition;
}
this.segmentData.duration = this.segmentData.distance/this.segmentData.velocity;
this.segmentData.finalTime = this.segmentData.initialTime + this.segmentData.duration;
if(FastMath.notEqual(this.segmentData.distance, 0) && FastMath.equal(this.segmentData.velocity, 0))
throw new Error("Unable to modify a cruise/dwell segment with zero velocity and non zero distance");
} else if (this.segmentData.permutation == 'time') {
if (this.segmentData.mode == 'incremental') {
this.segmentData.duration = (newSegmentData.duration || newSegmentData.duration === 0) ? newSegmentData.duration : this.segmentData.duration;
this.segmentData.finalTime = this.segmentData.initialTime + this.segmentData.duration;
} else if (this.segmentData.mode == 'absolute') {
this.segmentData.finalTime = (newSegmentData.finalTime || newSegmentData.finalTime === 0) ? newSegmentData.finalTime : this.segmentData.finalTime;
this.segmentData.duration = this.segmentData.finalTime - this.segmentData.initialTime;
}
this.segmentData.distance = this.segmentData.velocity*this.segmentData.duration;
this.segmentData.finalPosition = this.segmentData.initialPosition + this.segmentData.distance;
}
if (FastMath.leq(this.segmentData.duration, 0)) {
throw new Error('Cannot have permutation distance and time <= 0');
}
this.initialTime = this.segmentData.initialTime;
this.finalTime = this.segmentData.finalTime;
var newLoads = {};
Util.extend(newLoads, this.segmentData.loads);
Util.extend(newLoads, newSegmentData.loads);
var newbasicSegment = this.calculateBasicSegment(
initialConditions.time,
this.segmentData.finalTime,
initialConditions.position,
this.segmentData.finalPosition,
this.segmentData.velocity
);
this.initializeWithSegments(newbasicSegment);
this.setBasicSegmentLoads(newLoads);
return this;
};
CruiseDwellMotionSegment.prototype.calculateBasicSegment = function (t0, tf, p0, pf, v) {
return [basicSegmentFactory.CreateBasicSegment(t0, tf, [0, 0, v, p0])];
};
/**
* Gets pertinenta data to be able to serialize/deserilize segment
* @return {object} data representation of the segment
*/
CruiseDwellMotionSegment.prototype.exportData = function() {
var dataObj=MotionSegment.MotionSegment.prototype.exportData.call(this);
dataObj.type = 'CruiseDwellMotionSegment';
return dataObj;
};
/**
* Deserialize(create) CruiseDwellMotionSegment from a json string
* @param {Object} data data representation of the segment (see exportData())
* @return {CruiseDwellMotionSegment} [description]
*/
CruiseDwellMotionSegment.prototype.importFromData = function(data) {
if(data.constructor !== "CruiseDwellMotionSegment")
throw new Error("Unknown constructor for CruiseDwellMotionSegment");
return new CruiseDwellMotionSegment(data, data.loads);
};
factory.CruiseDwellMotionSegment = CruiseDwellMotionSegment;
/**
* Factory function to create a new cruise/dwell segment
* @param {Number} t0 initial time
* @param {Number} tf final time
* @param {Number} p0 initial position
* @param {Number} v0 initial velocity
* @param {Number} pf final position
* @param {string} permutation time vs distance
* @param {string} mode incremental vs absolute
* @param {Object} loads describes segment loads
* @return {CruiseDwellMotionSegment} newly created Cruise/Dwell segment
*/
factory.Make = function(t0, tf, p0, v0, pf, permutation, mode, loads){
if (FastMath.lt(tf,t0))
throw new Error('expecting tf to come after t0');
//default to incremental and distance
mode = mode == 'incremental' ? 'incremental' : 'absolute';
permutation = permutation == 'time' ? 'time' : 'distance';
var cruiseDwellSegment = new CruiseDwellMotionSegment({
initialTime: t0,
finalTime: tf,
initialPosition: p0,
finalPosition: pf,
velocity: v0,
permutation: permutation,
mode: mode
}, loads);
return cruiseDwellSegment;
};
factory.CruiseDwellMotionSegment = CruiseDwellMotionSegment;
module.exports = factory; | {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaGithub"
} | 5,640 |
\section{Introduction}\label{sec:intro}
The primordial perturbation generated in the inflationary epoch \cite{inflation, pert} is believed to be the origin of large-scale structure observed in the universe today. We have accurate information on the primordial perturbation through the observation of anisotropy of the cosmic microwave background(CMB) with the help of cosmological perturbation theory \cite{wmap5}. However, the CMB observation provides us with the information on the perturbations on a limited range of scales. Therefore, we cannot say, a priori, anything on the primordial perturbation at the smaller scales from CMB data. If the perturbation at these scales is order unity, primordial black holes can be produced when the scale of overdensed region crosses the horizon \cite{pbh}. The typical mass of these black holes is given by horizon mass at horizon crossing\footnote{Strictly speaking, the mass of black hole depends on the density perturbations $\delta$ and black holes with a small fraction of horizon mass are also produced \cite{niemeyer1999}. Since the contributions of these black holes are small compared to the black holes with horizon mass, we ignore this dependence for simplicity.}:
\begin{equation}\label{eq:bhmass}
M_{\text{BH}} = \frac{4\pi}{3}\rho(H^{-1})^3 = \frac{4\pi M_{G}^2}{H},
\end{equation}
where $M_G=(8\pi G)^{-1/2}=2.4\times10^{18}~\mathrm{GeV}$ is the reduced Planck mass\footnote{We use units for which $c=1$.}. Though PBH evaporates through the Hawking radiation process \cite{hawking}, those with mass greater than $10^{15}~\mathrm{g}$ can remain until the present time \cite{carr2003,carr1976}. These PBHs can be an origin of intermediate mass black holes \cite{kawaguchi} or dark matter in the Universe \cite{carr2003,ivanov}.
It is difficult to produce appreciable numbers of PBHs in the simple single-field slow-roll inflation models which predict nearly scale-invariant power spectrum of curvature perturbations because the amplitude of fluctuations on small scales cannot be much different from that normalized by CMB observation on large scales. One exception among
others \cite{models, chong2007} is the chaotic new inflation model \cite{yokoyama1998} where double inflation is realized with a single field. In Ref.~\cite{yokoyama1998}, however, calculation of curvature fluctuation was done using the slow-roll formula in which only the time-independent mode has been taken into account. In the present paper, we solve the evolution equation
of each Fourier mode of fluctuations properly and find an anomalous growth due to the temporal deviation from slow-roll evolution between two inflationary stages. This provides the first realistic example of the anomalous growth of perturbation in the superhorizon regime discussed in Ref.~\cite{leach2001}. As a result we obtain a power spectrum highly peaked on some scales depending on the values of the model parameters and PBH formation is more easily realized than concluded in Ref.~\cite{yokoyama1998}. We search for the values of parameters with which appreciable numbers of PBHs are produced under the observational constrains \cite{constraints}. We also analyze the effects of non-Gaussianity generated in this model on the abundance of PBHs.
The organization of this paper is as follows. In section \ref{sec:model}, we introduce the chaotic new inflation model and explain the background evolution in this model. In section \ref{sec:enhance}, a mechanism of the enhancement of the perturbation is explained and the power spectrum in the chaotic new inflation model is given. In section \ref{sec:abundance}, we give an expression of PBH abundance resulted from a peaked power spectrum. In section \ref{sec:ng}, we estimate non-Gaussian correction to PBH abundance. In section \ref{sec:search}, we calculate the PBH abundance with various values of parameters and give a relation between mass and PBH abundance. Section \ref{sec:conclusion} contains conclusion of this paper. In this paper, we use curvature perturbation in the comoving gauge $\zeta$ as a degree of freedom of scalar perturbation.
\section{Chaotic new inflation model}\label{sec:model}
~~We consider a single-field inflation model with the Coleman-Weinberg potential \cite{cw}
\begin{equation}\label{eq:pot}
V(\varphi) = \frac{\lambda}{4}\varphi^4\left( \ln \left|\frac{\varphi}{v}\right| - \frac{1}{4}\right) + \frac{\lambda}{16}v^4.
\end{equation}
~~Historically, this potential was first used to realize new inflation \cite{new}, but phase space consideration has led to the conclusion that chaotic inflation \cite{chaotic} is much more likely to occur \cite{kung}. So we start with a large field value.
In this model, inflation can occur twice \cite{yokoyama1999}. First, chaotic inflation occurs. After chaotic inflation, inflaton oscillates between the two minima of the potential. If the parameter $v$ is appropriately chosen, the inflaton moves slowly in the neighborhood of the origin after the oscillation and new inflation occurs. For example, the number of e-folds of new inflationay expansion, $N_{\text{new}}$, with $|\dot{H}|<H^2$ is larger than $10$ for $v=1.103M_{G}-1.132M_{G}$, and it satisfies $N_{\text{new}} \hspace{0.3em}\raisebox{0.4ex}{$>$}\hspace{-0.75em}\raisebox{-0.7ex}{$\sim$}\hspace{0.3em} 60$ for $v=1.114M_{G}-1.122M_{G}$. According to the number of oscillation cycles, the parameters where new inflation occurs are distributed at certain intervals. In the above example, $\varphi$ settles to the positive potential minimum $\varphi=v$ if $v \ge 1.119M_{G}$ and to the negative potential minimum $\varphi=-v$ if $v \le 1.118M_{G}$ without oscillation. New inflation with $N_{\text{new}}>10$ occurs after a half cycles of oscillation for $v=0.35510M_{G}-0.35524M_{G}$ and after a cycle of oscillation for $v=0.266665M_{G}-0.26670M_{G}$ and so on. We show the evolution of Hubble parameter $H$ and the inflaton $\varphi$ with the values of the parameters $(\lambda,~v)=(5.4\times10^{-14},~0.355139M_{G})$ in Fig.~\ref{fig:bg}, which shows that the inflaton moves slowly in the neighborhood of the origin, and new inflation occurs. With these values of the parameters, $\varphi$ settles to the negative potential minimum after an oscillation.
\begin{figure}[h]
\centering
\includegraphics[width=.47\linewidth]{hubble.eps}
\includegraphics[width=.46\linewidth]{phi.eps}
\caption{The evolution of Hubble parameter(left) and the inflaton(right) with the values of the parameters $(\lambda,~v)=(5.4\times10^{-14},~0.355139M_{G})$. $a_i$ is a value of scale factor at the initial time. }
\label{fig:bg}
\end{figure}
In describing the evolution of the inflaton during inflation, it is convenient to introduce the following Hubble slow-roll parameters:
\begin{align}
\epsilon &\equiv -\frac{\dot{H}}{H^2} = \frac{\dot{\varphi}^2}{2M_{G}^2H^2}, \label{eq:eps} \\
\eta &\equiv \frac{\dot{\epsilon}}{H\epsilon}, \label{eq:eta}
\end{align}
where dots denote differentiation with respect to the cosmic time $t$. We show the evolution of these slow-roll parameters in Fig.~\ref{fig:sr}. The values of the model parameters are the same as those employed in Fig.~\ref{fig:bg}. We can see that slow-roll conditions are not satisfied while the inflaton is oscillating between the two minima. As we see in the next section, the existence of this period is important for enhancement of curvature perturbation.
\begin{figure}[h]
\centering
\includegraphics[width=.46\linewidth]{eps.eps}
\includegraphics[width=.47\linewidth]{eta.eps}
\caption{The evolution of slow-roll parameters with the values of the parameters $(\lambda,~v)=(5.4\times10^{-14},~0.355139M_{G})$. }
\label{fig:sr}
\end{figure}
\section{Enhancement of curvature perturbation}\label{sec:enhance}
Curvature perturbation is enhanced in the models where slow-roll conditions are temporarily broken as stated in Ref.~\cite{leach2001}. In this section, we briefly describe the mechanism of the enhancement and give a power spectrum of curvature perturbation in the chaotic new inflation model.
\subsection{Evolution of curvature perturbation}
Curvature perturbation in the comoving gauge $\zeta$, in terms of which the amplitude of perturbation in the intrinsic spatial curvature of the comoving slicing $\mathcal{R}_c$ is written as
\begin{equation}
\mathcal{R}_{c} = \frac{4}{a^2}\nabla^2 \zeta,
\end{equation}
evolves according to an equation
\begin{equation}\label{eq:zetaev}
\dif{2}{\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}}{N} + (3-\epsilon+\eta)\dif{}{\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}}{N} + \maru{\frac{k}{aH}}^2 \zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}} = 0,
\end{equation}
where $N$ is the number of e-folds and $\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}$ is the Fourier transform of $\zeta$:
\begin{equation}
\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}} \equiv \int\!\mathrm{d}^3x~\zeta(t,\boldsymbol{x})e^{-i\boldsymbol{k}\cdot\boldsymbol{x}}.
\end{equation}
~~In the slow-roll inflation regime, the coefficient of the second term in Eq.~(\ref{eq:zetaev}) is positive and therefore the solutions of Eq.~(\ref{eq:zetaev}) in the long-wavelength regime, where the last term is negligible, are a constant mode and a decaying mode. The time derivative $\mathrm{d}\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}/\mathrm{d}N$, which corresponds to the decaying mode, diminishes in proportional to $a^{-2}$. If we neglect the last term in Eq.~(\ref{eq:zetaev}), $\mathrm{d}\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}/\mathrm{d}N$ diminishes as $a^{-3}$. However, the last term decreases as $(k/aH)^2 \zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}} \propto a^{-2}$. As a result the second term in Eq.~(\ref{eq:zetaev}) soon becomes comparable to the last term in Eq.~(\ref{eq:zetaev}), and $\mathrm{d}\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}/\mathrm{d}N$ diminishes as $a^{-2}$. Therefore $\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}$ soon becomes constant after horizon crossing and the power spectrum of curvature perturbation is given by the squared amplitude of the vacuum fluctuation\footnote{In subhorizon scales, $\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}$ is given by the quantum fluctuation in the vacuum state. Therefore, $\zeta_k \pi_{\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}}$ has the minimum value $1$ under the uncertainty relation $\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}} \pi_{\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}} \ge 1$. Here, $\pi_{\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}}$ is the momentum conjugate to $\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}$ and expressed as $2a^3 \epsilon M_G^2 \dot{\zeta}_{\boldsymbol{k}}^{\ast}$. Then, approximating $\dot{\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}} \sim (k/a)\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}$, we obtain the amplitude (\ref{eq:vf}).}
\begin{equation}\label{eq:vf}
|\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}|^2 = \frac{1}{2\epsilon M_G^2}\frac{k^{-1}}{a^2}
\end{equation}
at the time the mode crossed the horizon:
\begin{align}
\mathcal{P}_{\zeta}(k) &= \left.\frac{k^3|\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}|^2}{2\pi^2}\right|_{k=aH} \nonumber \\
&= \left.\frac{1}{\epsilon}\left(\frac{H}{2\pi M_G}\right)^2\right|_{k=aH}. \label{eq:srps}
\end{align}
The power spectrum given by Eq.~(\ref{eq:srps}) is well approximated by the form $\mathcal{P}_{\zeta}(k) \propto k^{n-1}$ where $n-1=-2\epsilon-\eta$, namely, a nearly scale-invariant spectrum with small value of slow-roll parameters. Since the observed amplitude is small and single-field inflation models generically gives spectral index $n<1$ \cite{kinney2002}, this power spectrum leads to a small number of primordial black holes. On the other hand, the coefficient of the second term in Eq.~(\ref{eq:zetaev}) can be negative in the model where slow-roll conditions are temporarily broken such as the chaotic new inflation model, in which we find $\epsilon \simeq 3$ and $\eta < 0$ near the end of the oscillatory phase so that $3-\epsilon+\eta<0$. In this case, Eq.~(\ref{eq:zetaev}) has a growing mode solution instead of the decaying mode solution outside the horizon. Therefore $\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}$ grows even after horizon crossing and its amplitude is enhanced. This enhancement of the perturbation enables even a single-field inflation model to produce a large number of PBHs.
\subsection{Power spectrum of curvature perturbation in the chaotic new inflation model}
We have estimated the power spectrum of curvature perturbation in the chaotic new inflation model by solving Eq.~(\ref{eq:zetaev}) numerically. In Fig.~\ref{fig:power}, we show the power spectrum which is normalized to the amplitude observed by WMAP \cite{wmap5}, $2 \times 10^{-9}$ at $k=0.002/\mathrm{Mpc}$ by choosing $\lambda$ appropriately. The values of the model parameters are the same as those employed in Fig.~\ref{fig:bg} and Fig.~\ref{fig:sr}.
\begin{figure}[h]
\centering
\includegraphics[width=.7\linewidth]{power.eps}
\caption{Power spectrum of curvature perturbation (solid line). This spectrum is calculated under the parameters $(\lambda,~v)=(5.4\times10^{-14},~0.355139M_{G})$. We show also a power spectrum estimated by using the formula (\ref{eq:srps}), which is used for a slow-roll inflation model (dashed line).}
\label{fig:power}
\end{figure}
In Fig.~\ref{fig:power}, it is observed that the power spectrum deviates from the one estimated by using the slow-roll formula (\ref{eq:srps}) and the enhancement of the perturbation has occurred. The power spectrum has a peak with amplitude $\sim 6.2 \times 10^{-3}$ and results in formation of a large number of PBHs with mass corresponding to the scale of the peak. The scale of the peak corresponds to the scale which crossed the horizon near the end of chaotic inflation. The non-constant mode for the scales which crossed the horizon earlier is a decaying mode during slow-roll inflation, and becomes exponentially small as $a^{-2}$. Therefore, even if it turns to a growing mode temporarily after the first inflation, only the modes which left the horizon in the late stage of the first inflation are enhanced to a visible level. The scale and the amplitude of the peak vary with the parameter $v$. For increasing number of the oscillation cycles of inflaton, a larger amplitude is obtained. We investigate the abundance of PBHs resulted from the peaked spectrum in the following sections.
\section{Abundance of primordial black holes}\label{sec:abundance}
In this section, we give an expression of the PBH abundance resulting from a strongly peaked power spectrum.
We estimate the PBH abundance based on the Press-Schechter method \cite{press1973,liddlebook}. In this method, a PBH with mass greater than $M$ is formed when the perturbation which is smoothed on scale $R_M$ corresponding to $M$ exceeds the threshold $\zeta_{\mathrm{th}}$. The smoothed perturbation $\zeta_{R_M}$ is defined by
\begin{equation}
\zeta_{R_M}(\boldsymbol{x}) \equiv \int \mathrm{d}^3 x'~W(|\boldsymbol{x}'-\boldsymbol{x}|/{R_M})\zeta(\boldsymbol{x}'),
\end{equation}
where $W(x/R)$ is a window function. The fraction of the energy density of the Universe collapsing into PBHs with mass $M<M_{\mathrm{BH}}<M+\Delta M$ at the time they form is given by
\begin{equation}\label{eq:beta}
\beta(M;\Delta M) \equiv \frac{\rho_{\mathrm{BH}}(M;\Delta M)}{\rho_{\mathrm{tot}}} = -2\int_{M}^{M+\Delta M}\mathrm{d} M \int_{\zeta_{\text{th}}} \mathrm{d}\zeta~ \pdif{}{P_{R_M}}{M},
\end{equation}
where the prefactor 2 is due to Press-Schechter's prescription and $P_{R_M}$ is the probability distribution of $\zeta_{R_M}(\boldsymbol{x})$. $P_{R_M}$ is independent of $\boldsymbol{x}$ because of homogeneity of the universe. Therefore, we omit the argument $\boldsymbol{x}$ in the following. For the moment, we assume $\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}$ to be Gaussian distributed, which is the case to the lowest order of perturbation, and consider non-Gaussian correction in the next section to test the validity of this assumption. Then $P_{R_M}$ is Gaussian with variance
\begin{equation}\label{eq:sigma}
\sigma_{R_{M}}^2 \equiv \int\frac{\mathrm{d}k}{k}\widetilde{W}(kR)^2\mathcal{P}_{\zeta},
\end{equation}
where $\widetilde{W}(kR)$ is the volume-normalized Fourier transform of the window function $W(x/R)$.
We estimate the PBH abundance, (\ref{eq:beta}), resulting from a strongly peaked power spectrum at the scale $k^{-1}=k_{\mathrm{peak}}^{-1}$. Since the power spectrum is strongly peaked we can approximate it to be $\delta$-function in Eq.~(\ref{eq:sigma}). This approximation is adequate, for $P_{R_M}$ is exponentially sensitive to $\sigma_{R_M}$ and a small difference in $\sigma_{R_M}$ leads to a large difference in $P_{R_M}$ so that only the value of $\sigma_R^2$ at the peak is important. Under this approximation and using a top-hat function as $\widetilde{W}(kR)$, we obtain $\mathrm{d} \sigma_{R_M}^2/\mathrm{d} M \sim \mathcal{P}_{\zeta}(k_{\mathrm{peak}})\delta(M-M_{\mathrm{peak}})$ where $M_{\mathrm{peak}}$ is the mass corresponding to the scale of the peak. Therefore, only PBHs whose mass is $M_{\mathrm{peak}}$ form. In this approximation, its abundance is given by
\begin{equation}\label{eq:beta2}
\beta(M_{\mathrm{peak}}) = \frac{1}{\sqrt{2\pi}}\int_{\hat{\zeta}_{\text{th}}} \mathrm{d}\hat{\zeta}~(\hat{\zeta}^2-1)e^{-\hat{\zeta}^2/2} \quad \maru{\hat{\zeta} \equiv \zeta/\sqrt{\mathcal{P}_{\zeta}(k_{\text{peak}})}},
\end{equation}
where $\beta$ is independent of $\Delta M$ under the current approximation. In the peaked spectrum, the amplitude at the scale of the peak can be large while the amplitude at the observed scale is consistent with the observational value. Therefore, a large number of PBHs are produced from strongly peaked power spectrum.
\section{Non-Gaussian correction to PBH abundance}\label{sec:ng}
The amplitude of perturbation producing PBHs is so large that non-Gaussinity of curvature perturbation due to higher-order effects can be important. In the case of slow-roll inflation, this effect on the formation of PBHs has been studied in Ref.~\cite{pbhng} and shown to be negligibly small contrary to the intuitive expectation. However, in models where slow-roll conditions are temporarily violated such as the chaotic new inflation model, large non-Gaussinity arises \cite{chen2007} and can modify the PBH abundance obtained above. In this section, we investigate this possibility.
\subsection{Three-point correlation functions}
Here in order to estimate the effects of the deviation from Gaussian due to the higher-order interaction in the action, we first evaluate three-point correlation functions.
We sketch the derivation of the three-point correlation functions \cite{ng}. The three-point functions are estimated by perturbative expansion with respect to the interaction. For the estimation of the three-point correlation functions, the cubic terms of $\zeta$ \footnote{To be precise, {\it this} $\zeta$ is a generalization of $\zeta$ used in the linear perturbation theory \cite{ng}. At linear order, two $\zeta$ coincide with each other.} in the action give relevant interactions, which consist of
\begin{align}
S_3 &= \int\!\mathrm{d}t~L_3(\zeta,\dot{\zeta};t) \nonumber \\
\begin{split}
&= M_G^2 \int\!\mathrm{d}t \mathrm{d}^3 x ~~[a\epsilon \zeta(\nabla\zeta)^2 + a^3\epsilon H^{-1}\dot{\zeta}^3 - 3a^3\epsilon \zeta\dot{\zeta}^2 \\
&- \frac{1}{2a}(3\zeta-H^{-1}\dot{\zeta})(\nabla_i\nabla_j\psi\nabla_i\nabla_j\psi-\nabla^2\psi\nabla^2\psi) + 2a^{-1}\nabla_i\psi\nabla_i\zeta\nabla^2\psi], \label{eq:3rdaction}
\end{split}
\end{align}
where $\psi$ is defined by
\begin{equation}
\psi \equiv -\frac{\zeta}{H}+a^2\epsilon \nabla^{-2}\dot{\zeta}.
\end{equation}
From these terms, the interaction Hamiltonian up to the third order reads
\begin{align}
H_I(\zeta_I,\pi_{\zeta I};t) &= - L_3(\zeta_I,\pi_{\zeta I}/(2a^3\epsilon);t) \nonumber \\
&= - L_3(\zeta_I,\dot{\zeta_I};t) \nonumber \\
&= M_G^2 \int\!\mathrm{d}^3 x ~~[-a\epsilon \zeta_I(\nabla\zeta_I)^2 - a^3\epsilon H^{-1}\dot{\zeta_I}^3 + 3a^3\epsilon \zeta_I\dot{\zeta_I}^2 \nonumber \\
&+ \frac{1}{2a}(3\zeta_I-H^{-1}\dot{\zeta_I})(\nabla_i\nabla_j\psi_I\nabla_i\nabla_j\psi_I-\nabla^2\psi_I\nabla^2\psi_I) - 2a^{-1}\nabla_i\psi_I\nabla_i\zeta_I\nabla^2\psi_I] \nonumber \\
&= \frac{M_{G}^2 a^3 H^2}{( 2\pi )^6}\int\!\mathrm{d}^3 k_1\mathrm{d}^3 k_2\mathrm{d}^3 k_3~\delta^3(\boldsymbol{k}_1+\boldsymbol{k}_2+\boldsymbol{k}_3)~\left[ \mathcal{H}^{(1)}\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_1 I}\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_2 I}\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_3 I} \right. \nonumber \\
& \qquad \left. + \mathcal{H}^{(2)}\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_1 I}\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_2 I}\frac{\mathrm{d} \zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_3 I}}{H \mathrm{d}t} + \mathcal{H}^{(3)}\frac{\mathrm{d} \zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_1 I}}{H \mathrm{d}t}\frac{\mathrm{d} \zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_2 I}}{H \mathrm{d}t}\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_3 I} + \mathcal{H}^{(4)}\frac{\mathrm{d} \zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_1 I}}{H \mathrm{d}t}\frac{\mathrm{d} \zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_2 I}}{H \mathrm{d}t}\frac{\mathrm{d} \zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_3 I}}{H \mathrm{d}t} \right], \label{eq:interaction}
\end{align}
where $\pi_{\zeta}$ is the momentum conjugate to $\zeta$ and the variables with subscript $I$ denote variables in the interaction picture. Coefficients $\mathcal{H}^{(i)}~(i=1,2,3,4)$ are given by
\begin{align}
\mathcal{H}^{(1)} &= \epsilon\bar{k}^2\cos \theta - \frac{1}{6}\bar{k}^4\sin^2\theta, \label{eq:h1} \\
\mathcal{H}^{(2)} &= -\epsilon \bar{k}^2 (\sin^2 \theta/z + \cos \theta) + \frac{\bar{k}^4}{2}\sin^2 \theta, \label{eq:h2} \\
\mathcal{H}^{(3)} &= 3\epsilon + \frac{\epsilon^2}{2}(\sin^2\theta + 2z\cos\theta) + \frac{\epsilon}{2}\bar{k}^2(z-2\cos\theta)\sin^2\theta, \label{eq:h3} \\
\mathcal{H}^{(4)} &= -\epsilon - \frac{\epsilon^2}{2}\sin^2\theta, \label{eq:h4}
\end{align}
where we have defined
\begin{equation}\label{eq:mod}
\bar{k} \equiv \frac{\sqrt{k_1k_2}}{aH}, \quad \cos \theta \equiv (\boldsymbol{k}_1 \cdot \boldsymbol{k}_2)/k_1k_2, \quad z \equiv k_3^2/k_1k_2,
\end{equation}
for simplicity of expression. For an equilateral triangle, $k_1=k_2=k_3=k$, the values of these quantities are
\[
\bar{k} = \frac{k}{aH}, \quad \cos \theta = -\frac{1}{2}, \quad z =1.
\]
~~In calculating the three-point correlation functions, the in-in formalism \cite{in-in} is used since we want to calculate an expectation value with respect to the vacuum state at $t \to -\infty$:
\begin{equation}\label{eq:int3pt}
\begin{split}
\kaku{\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_1}(t)\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_2}(t)\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_3}(t)} = &\kaku{{U_I}^{-1}(t,t_0)\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_1 I}(t)\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_2 I}(t)\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_3 I}(t)U_I(t,t_0)}. \\ & \qquad \quad \left( U_I(t,t_0) \equiv Te^{-i\int_{(1-i\epsilon_0)t_0}^{t}\!\mathrm{d}t~H_I(\zeta_I(t),\pi_{\zeta I}(t);t)} \right)
\end{split}
\end{equation}
where $\epsilon_0$ is a positive infinitesimal constant\footnote{In an abuse of language, we use the same symbol $\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}$ for denoting a quantized variable as a classical one.}. To leading order of $H_I$, the three-point correlation function is given by
\begin{align}
\kaku{{U_I}^{-1}\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_1 I}(t)\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_2 I}(t)\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_3 I}(t)U_I} &= -i\int_{t_0}^{t}\!\mathrm{d}t'\kaku{[\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_1 I}(t)\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_2 I}(t)\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_3 I}(t),H_I(\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k} I},\pi_{\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}} I};t')]} \nonumber \\
&= 2\int_{t_0}^{t}\!\mathrm{d}t' \mathrm{Im}\left(\kaku{\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_1 I}(t)\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_2 I}(t)\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_3 I}(t)H_I(\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k} I},\pi_{\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}} I};t')} \right), \label{eq:3pt}
\end{align}
where the $t'$ integration contour is deformed so that both bra and ket are projected on to the vacuum state at $t \to -\infty$. According to the behavior of $\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k} I}$, the integrals in Eq.~(\ref{eq:3pt}) can be splitted into three parts, an integral over the region inside the horizon, the region around horizon crossing and the region outside the horizon. In the former two parts the deviation from the slow-roll inflation models is small, since the third term in Eq.~(\ref{eq:zetaev}) is dominant in these parts. The deviation arises in the last part, because $\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}$ grows outside the horizon in the chaotic new inflation model and not in the slow-roll inflation models. In the slow-roll inflation models, the contribution from the part outside the horizon is negligible since each term in the interaction (\ref{eq:interaction}) includes $\dot{\zeta}_I$ or $k/aH$ which have small values outside the horizon and, furthermore, the commutator of $\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}$'s or its time derivatives vanish as $a^{-\nu}~(\nu \ge 2)$ \footnote{If $\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k} I}(t)$ is constant $\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k} I}(t)=\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k} I}^{\text{const}}$, the three-point functions vanishes because a term $\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_1 I}(t)\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_2 I}(t)\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_3 I}(t)\zeta^{\ast}_{\boldsymbol{k}_1 I}(t')\zeta^{\ast}_{\boldsymbol{k}_2 I}(t')\zeta^{\ast}_{\boldsymbol{k}_3 I}(t')$ becomes a real number $|\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_1 I}^{\text{cosnt}}\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_2 I}^{\text{const}}\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_3 I}^{\text{const}}|^2$ in this case. Then the leading term of the commutator of $\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}$'s have a decaying mode in $\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}$'s, and decreases as $a^{-2}$. With time derivatives of $\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}$'s, the commutators decreases more rapidly.}. The three-point correlation functions are suppressed by the slow-roll parameters estimated at horizon crossing \cite{ng}. In contrast, in the chaotic new inflation model, $\dot{\zeta}_I$ has a non-negligible value outside the horizon and the integrals over the region outside the horizon contributes to the three-point correlation functions. The reason for obtaining large non-Gaussianity is different from that in Ref.~\cite{chen2007}. In the chaotic new inflation model it is the growth of the perturbation outside the horizon, while in Ref.~\cite{chen2007} it is the characteristic behavior of the slow roll parameters near or inside the horizon.
\subsection{Correction to PBH abundance from three-point correlation functions}
In the following, we give an expression of the PBH abundance resulting from the perturbation with the three-point correlation functions.
The probability distribution $P_{R_M}$ can be expressed as
\begin{equation}
P_{R_M}(\zeta_{R_M}) = \frac{1}{2\pi}\int \mathrm{d} \eta_{R_M}~\Phi(\eta_{R_M})e^{-i\eta_{R_M}\zeta_{R_M}},
\end{equation}
where $\Phi$ is defined by
\begin{equation}
\Phi(\eta_{R_M}) \equiv \kaku{e^{i\eta_{R_M}\zeta_{R_M}}}.
\end{equation}
$\Phi$ can be expanded by cumulants of $\zeta_{R_M}$, $\kaku{\zeta_{R_M}^n}_c$:
\begin{equation}\label{eq:phi}
\Phi(\eta_{R_M}) = \exp\left( \sum_{m=0}^{\infty} \frac{(i\eta_{R_M})^m}{m!}\kaku{\zeta_{R_M}^m}_c \right).
\end{equation}
The cumulants of $\zeta_{R_M}$ can be expressed by the connected part of the correlation functions of $\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}$. With the formula (\ref{eq:phi}), we can estimate the correction to $P_{R_M}$ from higher-order correlation functions.
The correction from the three-point correlation functions can be calculated, retaining terms up to $m=3$ in Eq.~(\ref{eq:phi}). In the case $|\kaku{\zeta_{R_M}^3}_c|$ is much smaller than $\sigma_{R_M}^3$, we can give a concrete expression of the corrected PBH abundance. In this case, we can expand $\Phi$ with respect to $J$ which is defined by
\begin{equation}
J \equiv \frac{1}{6} \frac{\kaku{\zeta_{R_M}^3}_c}{\sigma_{R_M}^3},
\end{equation}
and get
\begin{equation}\label{eq:p}
P_{R_M}(\zeta_{R_M}) = \frac{1}{\sqrt{2\pi\sigma_{R_M}^2}}\left[ 1+\left(3\frac{\zeta_{R_M}}{\sigma_{R_M}}-\frac{\zeta_{R_M}^3}{\sigma_{R_M}^3}\right)J \right]\exp\maru{-\frac{\zeta_{R_M}^2}{2\sigma_{R_M}^2}}.
\end{equation}
$J$ can be expressed by the three-point correlation functions of $\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}$ as
\begin{equation}\label{eq:j}
J = \frac{1}{6\sigma_{R_M}^3}\int\!\mathrm{d}^3k_1\int\!\mathrm{d}^3k_2\int\!\mathrm{d}^3k_3~\widetilde{W}(k_1R)\widetilde{W}(k_2R)\widetilde{W}(k_3R)\kaku{\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_1}\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_2}\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_3}}.
\end{equation}
Substituting the probability distribution $P_{R_M}$ given by Eq.~(\ref{eq:p}) to Eq.~(\ref{eq:beta}), we get the PBH abundance including the correction from the three-point correlation functions.
Because of homogeneity of the universe, the three-point correlation functions of $\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}}$ can be written as
\begin{equation}
\kaku{\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_1}(t)\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_2}(t)\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k}_3}(t)}_c = A(\boldsymbol{k}_1,\boldsymbol{k}_2, \boldsymbol{k}_3)\delta^3(\boldsymbol{k}_1+\boldsymbol{k}_2+\boldsymbol{k}_3).
\end{equation}
The isotropy of the universe guarantees that $A(\boldsymbol{k}_1,\boldsymbol{k}_2, \boldsymbol{k}_3)$ is in fact a function of ``shape'' and ``size'' of triangle spanned by $\boldsymbol{k}_{i}~(i=1,2,3)$ such as the quantities (\ref{eq:mod}) and independent of direction of the triangle. In the chaotic new inflation model, $\zeta_{\boldsymbol{k
}}$ grows most significantly at $k=k_{\text{peak}}$ and $A(\boldsymbol{k}_1,\boldsymbol{k}_2, \boldsymbol{k}_3)$ has the largest value at $k_1=k_2=k_3=k_{\text{peak}}$. Therefore, as before, we can take approximation $\mathrm{d} \kaku{\zeta_{R_M}^3}_c/\mathrm{d} M \sim 4\pi k_{\text{peak}}^6 A_{\text{peak}} \delta(M-M_{\text{peak}})$, where $A_{\text{peak}}$ represents $A(\boldsymbol{k}_1,\boldsymbol{k}_2, \boldsymbol{k}_3)$ estimated at $k_1=k_2=k_3=k_{\text{peak}}$. Under this approximation, the PBH abundance is given by
\begin{align}
\beta(M_{\text{peak}}) &= \frac{1}{\sqrt{2\pi}}\int_{\hat{\zeta}_{\text{th}}} \mathrm{d}\hat{\zeta}~\left[(\hat{\zeta}^2-1) - (\hat{\zeta}^5-8\hat{\zeta}^3+9\hat{\zeta})J_{\text{peak}}\right]e^{-\hat{\zeta}^2/2} \label{eq:beta3} \\
&\qquad \qquad \qquad \qquad \qquad \qquad \qquad \qquad \maru{\hat{\zeta} \equiv \zeta/\sqrt{\mathcal{P}_{\zeta}(k_{\text{peak}})}}, \nonumber
\end{align}
where
\begin{equation}\label{eq:jpeak}
J_{\text{peak}} \equiv \frac{2\pi}{3} \frac{ k_{\text{peak}}^6 A_{\text{peak}}}{\mathcal{P}_{\zeta}(k_{\text{peak}})^{3/2}}.
\end{equation}
The PBH abundance with some values of $J_{\text{peak}}$ is shown in Fig.~\ref{fig:j}.
\begin{figure}[h]
\centering
\includegraphics[width=.7\linewidth]{betas2.eps}
\caption{PBH abundance with some values of $J_{\text{peak}}$. The values of $J_{\text{peak}}$ are $-0.1,-0.01,0,0.01,0.1$ from below.}
\label{fig:j}
\end{figure}
\subsection{Estimation of correction to PBH abundance in chaotic new inflation model}
With the formulae obtained in the previous subsections, we can estimate the correction to the PBH abundance from the three-point correlation functions in the chaotic new inflation model. We have carried out the integration in Eq.~(\ref{eq:3pt}) numerically over the region outside the horizon, where the deviation from the slow-roll inflation models arises. In the other regions the contributions are almost the same as those in the slow-roll inflation models and do not modify the PBH abundance relevantly. Since the calculation is done only outside the horizon, we do not have the problem in implementing the $i \epsilon$ prescription numerically.
For the values of the parameters $(\lambda,~v)=(5.4\times10^{-14},~0.355139M_{G})$ with which the amplitude at the peak has the values for producing relevant number of PBHs, $\sim 6.2 \times 10^{-3}$, the value of $A_{\text{peak}}$ is estimated to be
\begin{equation}
k_{\text{peak}}^6 A_{\text{peak}} \sim 10^{-9}.
\end{equation}
On the other hand, the value obtained by estimating the contribution from the region around horizon crossing as done in slow-roll inflation models is calculated to be \cite{ng}
\begin{equation}
k_{\text{peak}}^6 A_{\text{peak}} = 48\pi^7 f_{\mathrm{NL}}\mathcal{P}_{\zeta}^2 \sim 10^{-16},
\end{equation}
where the value of $\mathcal{P}_{\zeta}$ is estimated at horizon crossing, $\sim 10^{-11}$ (see Fig.~\ref{fig:power}). $f_{\mathrm{NL}}$ is an estimator usually used for parameterizing the size of non-Gaussianity observed in the CMB \cite{ng} and has the value of the order of the slow-roll parameters estimated at horizon crossing, $\sim 10^{-1}$ (see Fig.~\ref{fig:sr}).
We get larger three-point correlation functions than those without the enhancement of the perturbation. However, the parameter $J_{\text{peak}}$ which is an estimator for the correction to the PBH abundance from the three-point correlation functions is estimated to be
\begin{equation}
J_{\text{peak}} \sim 10^{-6}.
\end{equation}
This value is too small to modify the PBH abundance relevantly. Though large three-point correlation functions are obtained, since a denominator of the estimator is also large, only a small correction is obtained.\\
The correction to the PBH abundance from $N$-point correlation functions appears with a factor $\mathcal{P}_{\zeta}^{-N/2}$. Therefore the corrections are expected to be small as the correction from three point functions are. We can therefore use the expression (\ref{eq:beta2}) for the PBH abundance safely.
\section{Parameter search}\label{sec:search}
In \S \ref{sec:enhance}, we have shown the curvature perturbation $\zeta$ is enhanced in the chaotic new inflation model. In this section, we calculate the PBH abundance using Eq.~(\ref{eq:beta2}) with various values of the parameter $v$ and search the parameter with which relevant number of PBHs can be produced. For each $v$, the parameter $\lambda$ is fixed by the power spectrum of $\zeta$ observed by WMAP, $\mathcal{P}_{\zeta}=2 \times 10^{-9}$ at $k=0.002/\mathrm{Mpc}$. In the linear perturbation theory, the power spectrum $\mathcal{P}_{\zeta}(k)$ scales as\footnote{The equations in the linear perturbation theory and the initial conditions for $V'=\widetilde{\lambda} V$ can be written as those for $V$ by defining $(N',H',\varphi',k',\zeta') \equiv (N,\widetilde{\lambda}^{-1/2}H,\varphi,\widetilde{\lambda}^{-1/2}k,\widetilde{\lambda}^{1/4}\zeta)$. Then, the relation (\ref{eq:scale}) is obtained.}
\begin{equation}\label{eq:scale}
\mathcal{P}_{\zeta}(k) \to {\mathcal{P}_{\zeta}'}(k)=\widetilde{\lambda}\mathcal{P}_{\zeta}(\widetilde{\lambda}^{-1/2}k) \quad \text{for} \quad V \to V'=\widetilde{\lambda} V.
\end{equation}
Since the horizon mass at the matter-radiation equality is $\sim 10^{17}M_{\odot}$, PBHs that can be the origin of intermediate mass black holes or dark matter are produced in the radiation-dominated epoch. In the radiation-dominated epoch, the threshold value of the density perturbation $\delta_{\mathrm{th}}$ is given by $1/3$ \cite{pbh,carr2003}. Then, we find the corresponding value of the curvature perturbation $\zeta_{\text{th}}=0.75$ with the help of the formula in the linear perturbation theory, $\delta_{k=aH}=4\zeta_{k=aH}/9$ \cite{liddlebook}. A similar value has been obtained by numerical calculation in Ref.~\cite{shibata1999}. Equation (\ref{eq:bhmass}) relates the mass of PBH produced in the radiation-dominated epoch to the scale of the perturbation as
\begin{equation}\label{eq:mr}
M = 5.4~\mathrm{g}~\left(\frac{10^{16}~\mathrm{GeV}}{V_{\ast}^{1/4}}\right)^2\!\left(\frac{a_{\ast}R_M}{H_{\ast}^{-1}}\right)^{2},
\end{equation}
where the variables with subscript ``$\ast$" denote those estimated at arbitrary time in the radiation-dominated epoch. We assume the period of reheating is negligible and have chosen the time at which inflation finished as time at which the variables with subscript ``$\ast$" are estimated. We write these variables with subscript ``end".
We have found that a relevant number of PBHs can be produced around $v \simeq 0.26667M_{G}$, $v \simeq 0.35514M_{G}$ and $v \simeq 0.35522M_{G}$. In these values of $v$, $V_{\text{end}}^{1/4} \sim (\lambda v^4)^{1/4} \sim 10^{14}~\mathrm{GeV}$ and Eq.~(\ref{eq:mr}) gives
\begin{equation}\label{eq:mr2}
M \sim 10^{4}~\mathrm{g}~\left(\frac{R_M}{R_{\text{end}}}\right)^{2},
\end{equation}
where $R_{\text{end}} \equiv 1/(a_{\text{end}}H_{\text{end}})$, which is the comoving scale crossing the horizon at the end of the entire inflation. The PBH abundance $\beta$ is plotted as a function of the mass corresponding to the scale of the peak $M_{\text{peak}}$ in Figs.~\ref{fig:beta5} and \ref{fig:beta7} with the observational constraints. The constraint on PBH abundance with mass above $10^{15}~\mathrm{g}$ is obtained from the condition that the abundance of PBHs is less than that of matter today. The other constraints are obtained from the consistency with nucleosynthesis and $\gamma$-ray observation. In Fig.~\ref{fig:beta7}, we can observe that PBHs with mass $6 \times 10^{20}~\mathrm{g}$ can constitute a large part of matter in the universe. Though PBHs with some range of mass are observationally excluded to be the dominant component of dark matter \cite{pbhdm}, there are no strong constraints in mass range $10^{20}~\mathrm{g}-10^{26}~\mathrm{g}~(10^{-13}M_{\odot}-10^{-7}M_{\odot})$. The mass $6 \times 10^{20}~\mathrm{g}$ are in this range. Therefore, we can obtain PBHs that can be an origin of dark matter in the chaotic new inflation model.
\begin{figure}[h]
\centering
\includegraphics[width=.45\linewidth]{beta0.05.eps}
\caption{PBH abundance $\beta$ as a function of mass corresponding to the scale of the peak $M_{\text{peak}}$ associated with the values of parameter $v=0.2666694M_{G}-0.2666745M_{G}$ (solid line). The constraints on PBH abundance are also depicted.}
\label{fig:beta5}
\end{figure}
\begin{figure}[h]
\centering
\includegraphics[width=.45\linewidth]{beta0.07.eps}
\caption{PBH abundance $\beta$ as a function of mass corresponding to the scale of the peak $M_{\text{peak}}$ associated with the values of parameter $v=0.355136M_{G}-0.355141M_{G}$ (solid line) and $v=0.355217M_{G}-0.355223M_{G}$(dashed line). The constraint on PBH abundance is also depicted.}
\label{fig:beta7}
\end{figure}
Finally, we estimate scalar spectral index $n$ and tensor-to-scalar ratio $r$ and check the consistency with the observational data \cite{wmap5}:
\begin{equation}
n = 0.986 \pm {0.022}, \quad r<0.43~(95\% \text{CL}) \quad \text{at} \quad k=0.002/\mathrm{Mpc}.
\end{equation}
In each parameter regions, scalar spectral index $n$ and tensor-to-scalar ratio $r$ is estimated to be
\begin{align*}
n = 0.939-0.931, \quad r=0.33-0.37 \qquad \text{for} \quad v = 0.266669M_{G}-0.266674M_{G}, \\
n = 0.928-0.922, \quad r=0.38-0.42 \qquad \text{for} \quad v = 0.355136M_{G}-0.355141M_{G}, \\
n = 0.931-0.924, \quad r=0.37-0.41 \qquad \text{for} \quad v = 0.355223M_{G}-0.355217M_{G},
\end{align*}
especially
\[
n=0.925, \quad r=0.40 \qquad \text{for} \quad v = 0.355140M_{G}~(M_{\text{peak}}=6 \times 10^{20}~\mathrm{g}).
\]
At the first parameter region, $n$ and $r$ are consistent with 3-year WMAP data at the confidence level of $99.9\%$, but lie out of the preferred range of 5-year data. At the other regions, $n$ and $r$ also lie out of the preferred range of 5-year data.
\section{Discussion}\label{sec:conclusion}
In this paper, we have shown that the enhancement of the perturbation occurs and a large number of PBHs are produced in the chaotic new inflation model. A growing mode plays an important role in the enhancement. Due to the growing mode, there is a contribution to the three-point functions from the region outside the horizon. We have estimated this contribution and its effect on the PBH abundance. As a result, We have found that non-Gaussian correction to the PBH abundance due to higher-order effect is small. Further, we have calculated the PBH abundance with various values of the parameter $v$. We have obtained the relevant number of PBHs around $v \simeq 0.26667M_{G}$, $v \simeq 0.35514M_{G}$ and $v \simeq 0.35522M_{G}$. In the second parameter region, the produced PBHs can constitute a large part of dark matter in the Universe. In the first parameter region, though the produced PBHs cannot be observed, we can observe the enhancement of the perturbation with gravitational waves generated from scalar perturbations through non-linear couplings \cite{ananda2007}. The scale of the peak which gives mass $M=1.4 \times 10^{13}~\mathrm{g}$ corresponds to GW frequency\footnote{The power spectrum of the induced GW have the peak at $k_{\mathrm{peak}}/\sqrt{3}\pi$ \cite{ananda2007}.} $\sim 100~\mathrm{Hz}$, and power spectrum for the induced GW is estimated to be\footnote{In Ref.~\cite{ananda2007}, the energy density of the induced GW is calculated to be $\Omega_{\mathrm{GW}} \sim 10^{-17} \mathcal{A}^4$ where $\mathcal{A}$ is the amplitude at the scale of the peak relative to the observed amplitude. At $M=1.4 \times 10^{13}~\mathrm{g}$, $\mathcal{A}$ is estimated to be $\sim 10^{3}$, and $\Omega_{\mathrm{GW}} \sim 10^{-5}$. This value is comparable to the nucleosynthesis bound $\Omega_{\mathrm{GW}} \sim 10^{-5}$ \cite{maggiore2000}. However, the amplitude of the scalar perturbations is so large that the effects neglected in Ref.~\cite{ananda2007} such as backreactions to the scalar perturbations from the tensor perturbations should be properly taking into account.} $\sim \mathcal{P}_{\zeta}^2 \sim 10^{-4}$. Therefore, the induced GW can be detected by detectors such as GEO600 \cite{geo}, LIGO \cite{ligo}, TAMA \cite{tama}, VIRGO \cite{virgo}.
In both parameter regions, however, the values of spectral index and tensor-to-scalar ratio are not in the preferred region of the observational data. This is because, in the chaotic new inflation model, the observed perturbations are produced at the chaotic inflationary epoch with a potential close to the quartic one, which is not preferred by the observational data. In this paper we adopted the Coleman-Weinberg potential as a simple model to drive inflationary dynamics without specifying particle physics background. In reality, we expect supergravity corrections to the scalar potential is important, especially for $\varphi>M_{G}$. If such corrections modifies the potential in an appropriate way, this scenario could be a feasible one. Another way to rescue it is to adopt a smaller self coupling $\lambda$ using the scaling law (\ref{eq:scale}), so that it predicts smaller amplitudes of both scalar and tensor fluctuations on large scales observed by CMB etc., assuming that the observed scalar perturbations on these scales were created through a different mechanism, say, curvaton \cite{curvaton}, or modulated rehating \cite{mreheat}. Since the peak we have found is so prominent that one could produce observable amount of PBHs even in such a case with smaller $\lambda$.
\section*{Acknowledgement}
This work was partially supported by
JSPS Grant-in-Aid for Scientific Research Nos.~16340076 and 19340054.
| {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaArXiv"
} | 3,794 |
Basilica Soundscape 2018
Art Direction, Branding, Apparel, Music
Basilica SoundScape features live concert performances, conceptual sound performances, author readings, installations, collaborations, curated local vendors and artisans, on-site activities and more, creating an immersive, innovative weekend of art, music, and culture. Basilica SoundScape features a lineup of some of the most innovative and genre-pushing musicians, visual artists and writers working today, with unique collaborations across disciplines. It's located in Hudson, New York at Basilica Hudson — founded by filmmaker Tony Stone, and musician Melissa Auf De Mar.
This year's festival identity uses Mike Renaud's 2017 logotype and icon system. The architecture of the space itself informed the flexible frame system found throughout the collateral.
Collaborators: Basilica Hudson, Brandon Stosuy, Melissa Auf De Mar, Mike Renaud, Alyssa Beers. Designed under Varyer
Art Direction, Publication
The Creative Independent is a growing resource of emotional and practical guidance for creative people. Their goal is to educate, inspire, and grow the community of people who create or dream of creating. Their new zine series is a compilation of quotes, excerpts, and recommendations from working artists, all gathered from TCI's archive. The first two issues, "On making a living as an artist" and "On dealing with creative anxiety", are available for free on their website.
The Creative Independent approached Varyer not only to design a printed collection of their creative guides, but to design a system for them to use as they release more issues. I led the creative team in developing guidelines for TCI including grids for each section, typography standards, generative image and text treatments, and a dynamic color system.
Collaborators: Alyssa Beers, Willa Köerner. Designed under Varyer
Cards Against Humanity Pop-Up Shop
Art Direction, Environmental Design, Game
The Cards Against Humanity Pop-Up Shop was a collaboration with the Chicago Design Museum and the game company's first offline store. Located in a downtown Chicago shopping mall, we curated and sold exclusive Cards Against Humanity products, zines from local artists, and games made by our favorite independent creators.
We designed the space with community growth in mind. We're in a unique position to be heavily involved with both Chicago's design and gaming communities, and wanted to introduce them to one another.
Collaborators: Chicago Design Museum, Blackbox. Design & Project Management: Myself, Sarah Gardner. Photography: Alexa Viscius. Designed under Cards Against Humanity
Famicase
Art Direction, Installation, Game
My Famicase Exhibition is an annual speculative game design invitational that takes place at METEOR in Tokyo, Japan. Artists and designers are asked to come up with an idea for an old Famicom game and design the cartridge for it.
Final Dream (2018)
Help each other escape the nightmare.
Empty Heaven (2017)
A fulfilled past yields no future. Now complete, but empty; How do you begin again?
Vivid Planet (2016)
See sound waves and protect the Earth from supersonic enemies!
Chicago Playtest Society
Art Direction, Branding, Web, Game
The Chicago Playtest Society is an underground dining series. Their goal is to foster a friendly and welcoming tabletop gaming community in Chicago. They believe that food and games have a unique ability to bring people together and create a sense of belonging. All of their events are secret, invite-only, and they never do them again.
Collaboration: Sarah Gardner. Development: Alright Studio. Designed under Cards Against Humanity | {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaCommonCrawl"
} | 4,065 |
##
#### MAPS
* The Spanish Main
* Leeward Islands
* Spanish Main (Trinidad and Grenada)
#### 1636: Commander Cantrell in the West Indies
* Part One
* Chapter 1
* Chapter 2
* Chapter 3
* Chapter 4
* Chapter 5
* Part Two
* Chapter 6
* Chapter 7
* Chapter 8
* Chapter 9
* Chapter 10
* Chapter 11
* Chapter 12
* Chapter 13
* Part Three
* Chapter 14
* Chapter 15
* Chapter 16
* Chapter 17
* Chapter 18
* Chapter 19
* Chapter 20
* Chapter 21
* Part Four
* Chapter 22
* Chapter 23
* Chapter 24
* Chapter 25
* Chapter 26
* Chapter 27
* Chapter 28
* Part Five
* Chapter 29
* Chapter 30
* Chapter 31
* Part Six
* Chapter 32
* Chapter 33
* Chapter 34
* Chapter 35
* Chapter 36
* Chapter 37
* Chapter 38
* Chapter 39
* Part Seven
* Chapter 40
* Chapter 41
* Chapter 42
* Chapter 43
* Chapter 44
* Part Eight
* Chapter 45
* Chapter 46
* Chapter 47
* Chapter 48
* Chapter 49
* Chapter 50
* Chapter 51
* Chapter 52
* Part Nine
* Chapter 53
* Chapter 54
#### Cast of Characters
#### Glossary of Naval Terms
**1636: Commander Cantrell in the West Indies**
Eric Flint and Charles E. Gannon
Eddie Cantrell, now married to the king of Denmark's daughter, is sent by Admiral Simpson to the Caribbean to secure access to the most valuable commodity on that continent—not the gold and silver which the Spanish treasure, but the oil which up-time machines and industry need. The admiral has also provided Eddie's small task force with the new steam-powered frigates that have just come out of the navy's shipyards.
Even with the frigates, a giant obstacle stands in his way: the Gulf-girdling Spanish presence in the New World. So a diversion is needed, carried out by an up-time car mechanic and a down-time mercenary colonel who also happens to be the last earl of Ireland. Their mission: grab the oil fields on Trinidad, and so distract the attention of Spain's New World governors.
While the Spanish galleons and troops head for Trinidad, Commander Cantrell's smallest and fastest steam sloop will make a run to the Louisiana coast. There, her crew will wind their way up the bayous to the real New World prize: the Jennings Oil Field.
But Cantrell's plans could be wrecked in a multitude of ways. He faces often-hostile natives, rambunctious Dutch ship captains, allied colonies on the brink of starvation, and vicious social infighting that can barely be contained by his capable and passionate new wife. When the galleons finally come out in force to engage his small flotilla, Eddie will discover that the Spanish aren't the only enemies who will be coming against him in a fateful Caribbean show-down.
**THE RING OF FIRE SERIES**
_1632_ by Eric Flint
_1633_ by Eric Flint & David Weber
_1634: The Baltic War_ by Eric Flint & David Weber
_1634: The Galileo Affair_ by Eric Flint & Andrew Dennis
_1634: The Bavarian Crisis_ by Eric Flint & Virginia DeMarce
_1634: The Ram Rebellion_ by Eric Flint with Virginia DeMarce
_1635: The Cannon Law_ by Eric Flint & Andrew Dennis
_1635: The Dreeson Incident_ by Eric Flint & Virginia DeMarce
_1635: The Tangled Web_ by Virginia DeMarce
_1635: The Eastern Front_ by Eric Flint
_1635: The Papal Stakes_ by Eric Flint & Charles E. Gannon
_1636: The Saxon Uprising_ by Eric Flint
_1636: The Kremlin Games_ by Eric Flint & Gorg Huff & Paula Goodlett
_1636: The Devil's Opera_ by Eric Flint & David Carrico
_1636: Seas of Fortune_ by Iver P. Cooper
_1636: Commander Cantrell in the West Indies_ by Eric Flint & Charles E. Gannon
_Grantville Gazette_ ed. by Eric Flint
_Grantville Gazette II_ ed. by Eric Flint
_Grantville Gazette III_ ed. by Eric Flint
_Grantville Gazette IV_ ed. by Eric Flint
_Grantville Gazette V_ ed. by Eric Flint
_Grantville Gazette VI_ ed. by Eric Flint
_Ring of Fire_ ed. by Eric Flint
_Ring of Fire II_ ed. by Eric Flint
_Ring of Fire III_ ed. by Eric Flint
_Time Spike_ by Eric Flint & Marilyn Kosmatka
1636: COMMANDER CANTRELL IN THE WEST INDIES
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 by Eric Flint & Charles E. Gannon
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.
A Baen Books Original
Baen Publishing Enterprises
P.O. Box 1403
Riverdale, NY 10471
www.baen.com
ISBN: 978-1-4767-3678-5
Cover art by Tom Kidd
Maps by Gorg Huff
First Baen printing, June 2014
Distributed by Simon & Schuster
1230 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10020
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Flint, Eric.
1636 : Commander Cantrell in the West Indies / Eric Flint and Charles E. Gannon.
pages cm. — (The ring of fire ; 14)
Summary: "Eddie Cantrell is married to the king of Denmark's daughter and is sent by Admiral Simpson to the Carribbean to secure access to the most valuable commodity on that continent—the oil which the up-time machines and industry need. Making his way to the New World, Eddie must face often hostile natives, rambunctious Dutch ship captains, allied colonies on the brink of starvation and the hostile Spanish presence" — Provided by publisher.
ISBN 978-1-4767-3678-5 (hardback)
1. Time travel—Fiction. 2. Alternative histories (Fiction) I. Gannon, Charles E. II. Title. III. Title: Sixteen thirty-six. IV. Title: Commander Cantrell in the West Indies.
PS3556.L548A618667 2014
813'.54—dc23
2014009924
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Pages by Joy Freeman (www.pagesbyjoy.com)
Printed in the United States of America
eISBN: 978-1-62579-283-9
Electronic Version by Baen Books
www.baen.com
> With profound gratitude, I dedicate this book to the entirety of the Ring of Fire community, who were enthusiastic in their welcome, and have proven to be a singularly helpful and dedicated group of pros and fans. Their tireless work as researchers, fact-checkers, and proof-readers enriched and improved every page of this manuscript, as well as the other ones I have had the honor of contributing to this series.
>
> —Charles E. Gannon
>
>
>
>
> What he said.
>
> —Eric Flint
**_April 1635_**
The heavens themselves, the planets, and this centre
**_Grantville, State of Thuringia-Franconia_**
Lieutenant Commander Eddie Cantrell looked down at the stump six inches below his left knee as an orderly removed his almost ornate peg leg. Physician Assistant Jessica Porter—formerly Nurse Porter—approached with his new fiberglass prosthetic. The jaundiced-gray color of the object was not appealing. "Wow, that's uglier than I thought it would be," Eddie confessed as the orderly left.
Jessica shrugged. "It may look like hell, but it works like a charm. We've special-cast more than a hundred of these, now." She fitted it tentatively onto the stump, and looked up at Eddie.
He concentrated on how it felt: a little odd—smooth and cool—compared to the wood and leather lashings that had just been removed. He supposed anything else might feel strange now, having spent a year and a half getting used to the cranky, creaky peg leg that had been specially fashioned for him by King Christian IV of Denmark's medical artisans. But now that Eddie paid closer attention to the new sensations of this prosthetic—"Actually, that feels much better. No rubbing."
Jessica snorted in response. "Yeah, it ought to feel better. It's custom-made. That's why we made you stop by when you brought your princess bride with you last fall, to get a wax mold of your—" Jessica missed a beat, floundered. "Of your—your—"
"My stump," Eddie supplied for her. "That's okay; might as well call it what it is." Which, he reflected, Jessica must do dozens of times a week with other amputees. But it was probably different with him. He was a fellow up-timer, a person she had known before the Ring of Fire had whisked their whole town back through time to Germany of 1631. And so, right in the middle of the Thirty Years' War, into which meat-grinder Eddie himself had been thrown.
He looked down at the stump that had gotten caught in those pitiless gears of a new history-in-the-making. "So, that wax mold you took of my stump—?"
Jessica nodded as she secured the new leg. "We filled that mold with a mix of fiberglass and pine resin and presto: your new prosthetic."
Eddie moved the new false limb tentatively. The weight was negligible. "It's hard to believe that's local—uh, down-time—manufacture."
"Every bit of it," nodded Jessica as she stood and stepped back to take a look. "They got the process from us, of course. We made the first few here at the Leahy Medical Center. But after that, there was no stopping all the down-time medical folks, particularly in the new university programs, from dominating the business. Good thing, too: we couldn't have kept up with the demand, here."
"I thought fiberglass would be too hard for the local industries to make."
Jessica shook her head. "That's because you're thinking of the stuff we made speedboats out of, back up-time in the twentieth century. That's ultra-high strength fiberglass. The individual strands were very thin, and very uniform. I doubt any of us will still be alive when that technology makes its debut in this world. But this,"—she tapped the prosthesis; it made a much duller sound than the wood—"this is made of much cruder fibers. Down-timers can make them with a number of different drip-and-spin processes. Then they just pack it into the mold as tight as they can, pour in the pine resin, and, after a little more processing, out comes the prosthesis.
"That's not the end of the process, of course. It needs smoothing and careful finishing where it fits onto the stump. But we didn't stop there," she said, her smile finally returning. "We added something special for you."
"Oh?" Eddie wondered if maybe it had secret compartments. That would be kind of cool.
"Yep. Try stepping on it, then stepping off."
Eddie shrugged: no secret compartments, then. He took hold of his cane, pushed off the examining table, stood tentatively on both legs, then stepped forward with the prosthesis. Well, that felt just fine. And step two—
—almost dropped him to the ground. As his real foot came down and he shifted his primary weight onto it, the heel of the prosthetic seemed to start rising up a little, as if it was eager to take its own next step. It wasn't a particularly strong push, but he hadn't been expecting it, and he flailed for balance.
"Wha—what was that?" he asked, not minding one bit that Jessica had jumped over to steady him.
"That was the spring-loaded heel wedge. Cool, huh? When the sole of the prosthesis is fully compressed, and then you start to shift your weight off it to take the next step, it gives you a little boost. Like your own foot does."
Eddie frowned. "Well, yeah, I guess. But I wasn't ready for it."
Jessica shook her head. "Sorry. Should have thought of that. We don't experience that with the other amputees."
"Why?"
"Well, they're either recent amputees, so they never adjusted to a regular peg leg. Or they come here because someone has told them that up-timers at Leahy Medical Center make the _best_ prosthetics, ones with springs in them. So naturally, the first thing we have to do is sit them down and explain every detail, including the phases they're going to go through in getting accustomed to using the new limb. Sorry; I should have observed the same protocol with you, should have warned you."
Eddie grinned and shrugged off her apology, then took a few more steps. Now that he knew to expect that little boost from the prosthetic's heel, it wasn't so bad. In fact, Jessica was right: this was more like real walking, not the flat footed limp-and-waddle he managed with the peg leg and a cane. With this, he could feel the potential for walking like a whole person again, like his old self. He could even imagine how he might be able to work in a little swagger, something to show off to Anne Cathrine . . .
"Eddie, I'm guessing that smug smile means that the prosthetic is a success?"
"Uh, yeah. Thank you, Jessica."
"Not at all. But tell me something, Eddie."
"Sure." He considered sitting, found he was still comfortable standing, something that rarely happened when he had been wearing the peg. "What do you want to know?"
"Well . . . why did you stay in Denmark once you were no longer being held as Christian IV's own, personal prisoner of war last year? I mean, I know there was the wedding with his daughter, but—"
Eddie nodded. And reflected that in the past, he might have grinned while he explained. But in the past year, life itself had acquired a new gravity that made him less ready to grin and shrug his way through the living or recounting of it. His high school days, not quite four years behind him, now seemed a lifetime away, a collection of memories that rightly belonged to someone else. "Mostly, I stayed up in Denmark because of love, Jessica."
"You mean the princess didn't want to come down here?"
"Oh, no, she was extremely eager to see Grantville." Like pretty much every other down-timer who had the means to do so, the number one locale on Anne Cathrine's list of "places to visit" was the town of miracles that had fallen out of the future into Germany.
"So why not bring the princess back home, Eddie? You get tired of us?"
"Jessica, first of all, Anne Cathrine is not a 'princess.' She's a 'king's daughter.'"
"And the difference is—?"
"The difference is huge. Her mom—her dad's second wife—was nobility, but not high enough for anyone to consider her kids potential inheritors of the throne. It's called a morganatic marriage."
"Thank you, I still read trashy historical romances, so I'm familiar with the term."
"Oh. Sorry. But princess or not, she's one of the brightest apples of her father's eye. He loves all his kids—he's a really good guy, that way—but he's especially fond of Anne Cathrine and her younger sister, Leonora."
"Another blond, buxom beauty, I'm assuming?"
Eddie decided not to point out that Anne Cathrine's hair was decidedly red-blond. "Uh, no, not at all. Leonora is a brunette. And . . . well, she'll probably be a pretty attractive woman. But she's already sharp as a tack. Not pushy, but has a real sense of her self, of what's right. And doesn't like having her dad determine her future."
One of Jessica's eyebrows elevated slightly. "She sounds like a handful for King Daddy. Good for her. And good for the Princess Anne Cathrine that she chose you."
Eddie shrugged. No reason to add the somewhat embarrassing footnote that Anne Cathrine and he had been surreptitiously "pushed together" by King Daddy, who despite some of his lunatic schemes, understood full well just how advantageous it was to have his daughter married to one of the up-time wizards who had been instrumental in shattering his naval attack on Wismar last year. Happily, Anne Cathrine's heart had already been moving precipitously in Eddie's direction, so King Daddy's stratagems had been, practically speaking, more of an emphatic imprimatur than an imperial order.
Jessica leaned back, arms crossed. "So if she wanted to stay in Grantville for a few weeks or months, instead of three days last fall, why shouldn't you and she have done so?"
"Because of how it would have looked, Jessica. I was the king's hostage after Luebeck, and his convalescent patient." He gestured down toward his leg. "But instead of ending up as a diplomatic football, I became part of the whole war's diplomatic solution."
"How's that?"
"Well, you know the old story: how 'young lovers' from two sides of a conflict become the basis of peace between enemies. Funny how a little intangible 'feel good' stuff like that can go a long way to easing tensions, making things a little smoother at the truce, and then the treaty tables. Which rolled right on into the deals that led to Denmark's entry into a restored Union of Kalmar with Sweden."
"Okay, but all that was finished even before you got married. So why not come back sooner?"
"Well, that whole 'young love' angle could also have lost a lot of its fairy-tale glow unless we got married pretty quickly, since, er . . . since—"
"Since there was no way of knowing how long it would be before the young wife might become a young mother. And how it might embarrass King Daddy if there were fewer than eight months between bridal bed and birthing bed."
"Uh . . . yeah. Pretty much." Eddie hated that he still— _still_ —blushed so easily. "And once I was officially part of the family, I needed to get introduced all around Denmark. And any noble that did not get to host us for a short stay or a party or some other damned meet-and-greet event was sure to get their nose out of joint. And of course, the order in which we went to all these dinners and dances was how King Christian demonstrated this year's pecking order amongst his aristocracy."
"And he got to show off his own prize-stud, up-timer wizard, bought fair and square at the territorial negotiation table last summer."
"Yup." Although, truth be told, Eddie had found the whole circus of his semi-celebrity more than a bit of an ego-boost. Who would have ever guessed that his marginal nerdiness would one day make him a star? Back up-time, in the twentieth century, his identity as gamer, military-history nut, and educated layman on all the related technologies had made him one of the boys that the hot-looking high school girls had looked straight through—unless they needed help with their homework. But here in the seventeenth century, those same qualities, along with his service and wounding in the recent Baltic War, had made him the veritable crown prince of geek chic.
Of course, the down-timers didn't see the geekiness at all. To them, he was simply a young Renaissance Man, a creature all at once unique, and brave, and furnished with powerful reservoirs of knowledge that were surprisingly deep and unthinkably wide. And Anne Cathrine was his first and most ardently smitten admirer. Which suited him just fine since, reciprocally, he was her biggest fan, as well.
"And so as soon as King Christian was done with you, your prior master, Admiral Simpson, snatched you back to Luebeck?"
"Well, Admiral Simpson never stopped being my C.O., even when I was a prisoner of war. Afterward, too. So when you get right down to it, all the gallivanting I did in Denmark was really an 'extended leave to complete diplomatic initiatives.'" Eddie swayed into motion, put his right hand out, used the cane in his left to steady himself. "Jessica, thanks so much. The prosthesis—the leg—feels so natural. It's going to make a huge difference in my life."
Jessica smiled. "Well, that was the objective. And you've got a lot going on in that life. Seems, in some ways, that the Ring of Fire has been a good change for you." She glanced down; her smile dimmed. "I mean, I'm not saying that it was worth losing a leg over, but—"
"I know what you mean, Jessica. Without the Ring of Fire, I'd probably have been working a nowhere job, trying to figure out a way to pay for college as the weeks and months mounted up, and I had less and less in the bank to show for them. Sure, I'd have both legs—"
"But you wouldn't be so alive, wouldn't have so much to look forward to?"
"Yeah, I think that's it. Up-time, I just might be surviving day after dull day in my parents' basement, but here, I'm living life. For real. And so is she."
Jessica frowned, not understanding. "'She'? Who? The princess?"
Eddie nodded, released Jessica's hand, and started moving—with surprising ease and surety—for the door. "Yup."
Jessica held him with her wondering voice. "How did the Ring of Fire make her—well, more alive?"
Eddie turned. "It didn't _make_ her more alive, Jessica. It _kept_ her alive. In the old history, Anne Cathrine died on August 20, 1633. But for some reason, when we arrived here in 1631, our actions sent out waves of change that radiated into her life as well. Who knows? Maybe a ship carrying plague didn't make it to Copenhagen, or she missed a dance where she was exposed to typhus, or any one of another million possible rendezvous with death that she was prevented from making. All I know is that she's here now, and very alive. But back up-time, where she was part of what we called 'history,' she was dead ten days after her fifteenth birthday."
Jessica's mouth was slightly open. She seemed to be searching for something to say. And was failing.
Eddie nodded. "Thanks again, Jessica," he said. "Say hello to your folks for me." He swung around the door jamb, tugging the door closed behind him.
**_Grantville, State of Thuringia-Franconia_**
Colonel Hugh Albert O'Donnell, the expatriate Earl of Tyrconnell, slugged back the contents of the small, clear shot glass. The liquid he gulped down burned from the top of his gullet to the bottom of his gut and filled his head with fumes that, he still suspected, might be poisonous. But at least this time he wasn't going to—
The burn flared at the back of his throat and he coughed. And choked and sputtered. He looked up at his hosts—Grantville's two Mike McCarthys, one Senior and one Junior—who looked on sympathetically. The older man also seemed to be suppressing either a grimace or a grin. Hugh put the shot glass aside politely.
"Can't stomach moonshine, eh?" There was a little friendly chiding in Don McCarthy the Elder's tone.
"Alas, and it pains an Irishman to say it, I cannot. It is not as similar to _poteen_ as you conjectured. And it has not 'grown on me' as you Americans say—not the least bit, these past six nights. My apologies."
"Ah, that's all right," said Mike the Younger, who disappeared into the kitchen and promptly returned with a perfectly cast squat bottle, half-filled with liquid of a very promising amber color. "Want to try some bourbon?"
Hugh struggled to understand. "Is it a drink of that line, of that family?"
"'Of that line—?' Oh, you mean the Bourbons of France? No, no: this is American whiskey— _uisce beatha_ —made in some of the Southern States. Interested?"
At the words "whiskey" and its Gaelic root-word, _uisce beatha_ , Hugh felt his interest and even his spirits brighten. He sat a little straighter. "I am very interested, Michael."
Smiles and new drinks all around. But the small glasses were poured out very carefully this time, as though the "bourbon" was precious nectar—and then Hugh realized that indeed it must be. The label, the bottle, the screw-on cap: all bore the stamp of machine-manufactured precision. This was a whiskey from almost four hundred years in the future. It would be a long wait indeed before any more was available. Hugh resolved to savor every drop. He raised his glass. " _Slainte_."
" _Slainte_ ," replied Michael McCarthy, Sr. with a quick, wide smile.
Michael the Younger mumbled something that sounded more like "shlondy." He obviously saw the grin that Hugh tried to suppress. "Maybe you can teach me how to say it later?" Mike Jr. wondered sheepishly.
Marveling at the taste of the bourbon, Hugh nodded. "If my payment is more bourbon, you may consider yourself furnished with a permanent tutor in the finer points of Gaelic." Hugh felt his smile slip a little. "Well, as permanent as a tutor may be when he must leave on the morrow."
"Hugh," began Mike Jr., "I'll say it again: Dad and I would be happy—very happy—if you'd reconsider and stay a few more days."
O'Donnell waved his hand. "Forgive me for having struck a melancholy note. Let us not ruin this fine drink with dark thoughts. Besides,"—he hoped his light tone would change the mood—"the name of this whiskey reminds me that I need to practice my French pronunciation. Which, up until now, has usually been employed in the exchange of pleasantries over the tops of contested revetments and abatis."
The answering smiles were polite, not amused. Michael Sr. rolled the small glass of bourbon slowly between his palms. "Why are you brushing up on your French?"
Hugh sighed. "A man must eat, Don McCarthy."
"I'd have thought that would hardly be a worry for you."
Hugh shrugged. "While I was in the employ of the king of Spain, you would have been quite right. But I am no longer the colonel of a regiment, nor a knight-captain of the Order of Alcantara, nor may I even remain a servant of my own godmother, Infanta Isabella of the Lowlands, since she remains a vassal of Philip IV of Spain. I am, as you would say, 'unemployed.'"
Don McCarthy leaned back. "So—France. You are becoming a true soldier-of-fortune now."
"You may say the dirty word: yes, I am now a 'mercenary.' I have little choice. So too for all us Irish 'Wild Geese' in Spanish service. Our employer's 'alliance' with England runs counter to any hope that Philip will make good his promise to liberate Ireland. It is a failure that is anticipated in your own histories—although there, the reasons were somewhat different. Besides, I do not wish to find myself fighting you."
"Fighting _us_? How?"
"How not? Spain's enmity toward your United States of Europe is unlikely to abate soon. So, if I am not willing to become the physical instrument of that hatred, I must take service elsewhere. And that decision reflects not just my loyalty as your friend, but the practicality of a seasoned officer: becoming a military adversary of the USE seems best suited to those who are in an intemperate rush to meet their maker."
Michael Sr. smiled a bit. Michael Jr. frowned a bit.
Hugh leaned toward the latter. "What is it, Michael?"
"Nothing. Just thinking, is all."
"Thinking of what?"
Michael Jr. seemed to weigh his words very carefully before he spoke. "Well, Hugh, we might be working for the same boss, soon."
"You, Michael—working for the French? How could that be? Just last year, they attacked the USE."
"Well, yes . . . but that was last year. We have a treaty now."
"Michael, just a few days ago, did your own father not quip that the honor of nations is, in fact, an oxymoron?"
"Dad did, but I'm not counting on French honor." He snorted the last two words. "I'm thinking practically. My guess is that the French are going to be lying low for a while, at least with regards to the USE. So it should be safe for me to do a short stint of work for the French, just to make some extra money. To handle some extra expenses."
Hugh frowned, perplexed. Then, through the kitchen doorway, he saw Mike Sr.'s German nurse bustling busily at a shelf lined with his many special ointments, potions, and pills.
Michael Sr. spoke up. "Yep, I'm the 'extra expense.'"
"Perhaps I remember incorrectly, but isn't your wife—?"
"A nurse. Yes, but she's needed elsewhere, and there's not a whole lot she can do for me that any reasonably competent person can't."
"And the USE does not provide you with adequate care in exchange for both your wife's service, and your son's?"
"Oh, they provide, but it's pretty costly, taking care of a crusty old coot like me."
Hugh smiled, not really understanding what a "coot" was or how it might acquire a crust, but he got the gist by context.
Michael leaned towards his father, subtly protective. "So I found a way to make a lot of money pretty quickly, I think. But it involves going over the border."
"To France."
"More specifically, to Amiens."
Hugh started. "You mean to work for Turenne?"
Michael nodded, looked away.
Hugh did his best to mask his surprise. "Really? Turenne? And his technical, eh, 'laboratories?'"
Michael nodded again. "I negotiated the leave of absence a while ago. My bags are pretty much packed. Literally."
"And Stearns, and Gustav, will allow you to provide technical assistance to Turenne?"
Michael shrugged, still looking away. "This down-time version of America is still a free country. We brought that with us and kept it. Mostly. Besides, I'll only be showing the French how to achieve something that I'm sure they've already studied in our books."
Hugh nodded, wondered what this "something" might be, and also if there might be some way for Michael and he to combine their westward journeys. He leaned back, feeling a surge of relief at even this nebulous prospect of having a comrade as he began to seek his fortune in France. It was a relief to think one might not start out on a new career completely alone, almost as comforting as the fire which threw flickering shadows around the walls and even painted a few on the back of the front door.
Six days ago, Hugh had knocked on that front door—unannounced—to begin his second visit to Grantville. This was a considerable departure from the formality of his first visit, made about three months earlier.
That initial visit had been something of a low-level affair of state. Technically still the earl of Tyrconnell (in everyone's opinion but the English), Hugh Albert O'Donnell's name was known to some up-timers not only in reports from this present, but also from the tales of their own past. And it had been that past, and the future that had followed from it, that Hugh had come to explore.
Grantville's official libraries had been helpful in the matter of general history, but had little mention of Hugh or his illustrious forbears. Rather, it was his first passage through the front door of the McCarthy house that changed his world forever. Although it was Michael Jr. who had invited Hugh to use their home library, it was the father—an elderly ex-miner suffering from black lung—who was the more ardent (or at least outspoken) Fenian, possessing an impressive collection of both historical and contemporary texts on the subject. Like some enfeebled but passionate bard, Michael Sr. could recall twice the number of tales that were in the books, and was singularly well-versed in the lore of Ireland's many troubles—troubles which had continued on, Hugh was devastated to learn, for almost another four centuries.
On the last day of his first visit, Don McCarthy had waggled a gnarled finger at him. "Sir O'Donnell—"
"Don McCarthy, this will not do. I insist that you address me simply as 'Hugh.'"
"Then stop calling me 'Don McCarthy'—'Hugh.'"
Hugh could not stop the smile. "You are the eldest of your family and have the wisdom of many years. I would be a boor not to title you 'Don.'"
"Don" McCarthy made a gruff, guttural sound. He had learned that, although the thirty-year-old earl was always gentle with his hosts, he had a winning way of getting what he wanted. "I have a book," the elder McCarthy grumbled at last.
"You have many."
"Yeah—well, this one talks about you."
"I am mentioned in many of the—"
"No, Hugh. This one has a special chapter about you. About your family, your life—your death."
Hugh felt the hair on the back of his neck rise up straight and stay that way. The old McCarthy patriarch reached up a slender journal. Hugh remembered taking it with the same mix of avidity and dread that he would have felt if given the chance to handle one of the legendary serpents that possessed both the power to kill and confer immortality.
And the chapter, written in 1941 by Brendan Jennings, OFM, had proven to have both such powers. In his first hurried read of _The Career of Hugh, Son of Rory O'Donnell, Earl of Tyrconnell, in the Low Countries_ , Hugh discovered that he and the last of his men were to die in 1642, only seven years hence, in the service of Spain, fighting the French at sea off the coast of Barcelona. And thus was sparked his resolve to leave direct Spanish service and encourage his men to consider carefully any offer that might draw them away from their benefactress—and his aunt—Archduchess Isabella of the Spanish Lowlands. It was a decision that might simply lead him to an even earlier death, Hugh reasoned, but that was only one possibility. And so, he hoped that he, and many of his men, had been granted a new lease on life.
But within a few minutes, Hugh discovered the darker curse lurking in the pages of the book. It indicated that his wife had died in 1634. And so she had. Eighteen-year-old Anna Margaritte de Hennin had often visited the court of the infanta Isabella, who had been instrumental in brokering Hugh's marriage to her. What had started as an act of prudent policy had blossomed (as Isabella had wryly predicted) into a passionate romance, but one which had ended in bitter tragedy. Anna Margaritte lost both their first child and her life in the week before Christmas, torrents of post-partum blood pouring out of her as if some demon within could not kill her quickly or thoroughly enough.
Hugh stared at the book. The warning had been here. It had been here since the American town had materialized in the middle of Germany in 1631. It had been here before he had married Anna Margaritte. Before they had spoken of children. The warning of Anna Margaritte's death in childbirth had been here, waiting. And he had not come, had not read it.
And so they had conceived a child in blissful ignorance and she had died in horrible agony.
Hugh did not remember leaving the McCarthys' house. He remembered putting the book down carefully, remembered gathering most of his belongings and notes, and the next thing he knew, he was riding west, into the deepening night. His two guards caught up with him, frenzied with worry, three hours later.
After returning to his regiment, Hugh spent days recovering from the shock of what he had read, and then weeks thinking about what course of action he should take, and when.
At last, just before spring, he began writing the most difficult and delicate letter of his long career as a correspondent with kings and cardinals, princes and pontiffs. When he completed the letter in early April, he leaned back and tried to see anew this document that had even plagued his dreams. And so, skipping the long prefatory parade of titles and overblown felicities, he read the beginning of its second paragraph with, he hoped, fresh eyes:
> _"So as not to besmirch the names and honor of my kind patrons—who ensured I kept my own titles when my sires died—I regretfully announce my resolve to take leave of their service, that I may better serve my native country and kinsmen. This decision in no way signifies any deficiency or decrease in the love and esteem in which I hold my many benefactors. I have naught but gratitude for their innumerable kindnesses, and I depart their service heavy with the sorrow that I shall surely never know the like of their love again."_
And, given the many contexts (and pretexts) that had gone into the making of Hugh's current situation, he reflected that his words were true enough on all counts. The persons who had truly been his surrogate family—Archduchess Infanta Isabella; Sister Catherine, prioress of the _Dames Blanches_ ; Father Florence Conry of St. Anthony's—had been generous, compassionate, even loving. And of his more distant benefactors—the careful Philip, his recidivistic court, and its hopelessly blinkered courtiers—he could only say that their "love" had indeed been unique. No group of "benefactors" had ever stood in such a strange and often awkward relationship to its dependents as had the Spanish crown to the relatives of the exiled Irish earls O'Donnell and O'Neill.
Three days later, Hugh was finally able to bring himself to fold the letter and press his seal down deep into the pool of red wax that bled across the edge of the top sheet.
The following morning he posted the letter to his patrons and lieges, sought permission for a leave of several weeks, received it, dashed off a missive to the McCarthys that might or might not arrive before he did, and set off for his second visit to Grantville, alone.
He had arrived at their fateful yet welcoming front door six days ago. He had ventured back out beyond it a few times, but had spent most of the days—and nights—reading. Reading reading reading. And when he was not reading, he was making notes, comparing accounts, examining how the dominoes of polities and personalities had fallen during what the up-timer histories called the Thirty Years' War. Judging from how current events had already veered dramatically away from those chronicled in the up-timer books, Hugh quickly concluded that although the current wars might or might not last as long as Thirty Years, they would have an even more profound and lasting effect upon the map—and life—of Europe. And, no doubt, the world beyond.
But ever and again, he would find something that reminded him of how his late arrival to Grantville and its histories had allowed him to follow the fateful track of that other future just a few months too long. Too long for his wife, his son, and at least a hundred of his regiment who had been lost fighting for the interests of a Spanish king who, it was now clear, would never fight for their interests.
And on this, the sixth night of his stay, while sitting in the worn living room of Don McCarthy, these specters of regret had been gathering within Hugh once again as Michael McCarthy, Jr., had emerged from the kitchen with the dreaded "white lightning" that the up-timers seemed to consider divine nectar. He had found himself recalling all the faces that had come to swear allegiance under his banners, and which were now buried in the loam of foreign fields.
He broke out of his silent reverie without preamble. "I could no longer command a unit that bore my name like a lure, so as to attract the _cultchies_ —the simple country boys—like bees to pollen."
The McCarthys did not comment as the first round of moonshine was poured out, but he felt their eyes.
"It was hard watching them die in foreign service, far from home, dismally used. But I could make myself do it, so long as I was able to believe we were purchasing the good opinion of our Spanish allies, that we were securing their permanent regard for our honor and character, as well as skill on the battlefield. And that, therefore, Philip would finally be moved to act—if only to keep faith with the promises he had made to men of such quality and integrity." He took a look a small sip of the white lightning. "What a fool I was."
Michael Sr. responded in a low, steady voice. "Hugh, you were brought up by good people to be a good man, and true. But nations—even those ruled by kings who claim to prize honor and loyalty—cannot keep faith with those same virtues. It's in the nature of nations to make promises they don't keep. Unfortunately, no man can know beforehand which of the promises made to him will turn out to be the worthless ones."
Hugh heard the attempt to take the onus off him. He shrugged it off. "I was gullible—in this and other matters. I was not merely a child but a simpleton to believe the initial priestly rubbish about Americans as the spawn of Satan himself. If I hadn't put such faith in Philip's court clerics, I might have thought for myself and come here earlier. I might have read my own future—and in it, seen and avoided Anna's death in childbirth."
"You could not have known." Don Michael's tone was soft yet strangely certain.
"I could have. I could have found better care for her."
"She was Flemish aristocracy. She had the finest doctors of Europe."
"The finest doctors of Europe, even of the Lowlands, are not _your_ doctors. My reading has not been confined to the future plight of Ireland, Don McCarthy. I have spent many hours in your libraries. I have learned of obstetrical bleeding, of _placenta previa_. And so I learned that what killed my wife was ignorance: my ignorance, our ignorance."
"Son,"—and McCarthy sounded sincere in affixing that label—"son; you couldn't have read that in time to save her."
"With respect, Don McCarthy, you were here almost three years before her _accouchement_. At any time, I could have—"
"No, Hugh. I'm not saying that the books were not here to be read. I mean that you weren't ready to read—and _believe_ —them." He looked to his own son, whose often unreadable gray eyes were crinkled in what appeared to be pain.
And suddenly Hugh understood that these strikingly plain-mannered beings had been trying to lead him to the realization that now snapped on in his mind like one of their impossible "light bulbs":
—it was Anna's _death_ that had jarred him enough so that, shaken from his old perspectives, he could see the world through the new lenses brought by the up-timers. Before she had died, he would not have traveled to read, nor have believed or trusted the content of, the books in Grantville that might have saved her. But when their unborn child had killed her by tearing out the very root of the umbilicus that had already choked him, Hugh's happy complacency ended. Their two deaths had midwifed the birth of his new consciousness.
The change had not been instantaneous. His former habits of thought had not died suddenly, as if decapitated by the single blow of a headsman's axe. No, it had been like a fall from a great height, starting when the midwives and doctors left him alone with Anna's haggard corpse and the tiny, blue-black body of he who was to have had his father's name, and titles, and boundless love. Sitting there with that tiny form in his hands, Hugh had started falling into a hole at the center of himself: falling falling falling—
And when he finally awakened from that long fall, weeks later, he opened his eyes upon a different world. It was a world that was unguided by Divine Providence, and in which his kinsmen had languished and died hoping hopeless hopes. And then had come the strange letter from Grantville.
It had been a strange letter indeed. It conveyed, first and foremost, condolences—of which there had been many others, most far more grandiloquent in their invocation of tragedy and the mysterious will of God. In contrast, this letter—from an up-timer named Mr. Michael McCarthy, Sr.—while clearly heartfelt, had been singularly straightforward and plainspoken. Yet, it landed like a thunderbolt before Hugh's eyes. In part, this was because he had never thought to receive any such expression of solicitude from an up-timer. But even more arresting was McCarthy's lament that the death of Hugh's wife and heir were also "terrible blows to all O'Donnells—and to the many generations of patriotic Irish who came after you."
This added a strange, almost surreal dimension to his loss. Posterity had, somewhere, already been lastingly impacted by the death of his child and his wife. And the more Hugh reflected on that, the more he felt it grow like a tapeworm in that part of his mind that digested new facts. He and his line were known in the future. And that future could be discovered by going to Grantville.
And so he had. And now he sat in Don Michael McCarthy's living room, sharing this magical bourbon with him and his son. He sighed, sipped again, wondered if life was really any less capricious than the unpredictable dance of flames in this hearth built from eerily identical up-time bricks. He watched the fire send flickering shadow-demons capering along the walls. But less energetically now; it was burning low.
Michael Jr. noticed the fading flames and got up; he gestured for Hugh to remain in his seat. "I'll get another few pieces of wood. Stay put." He looked for his coat. "Damn. That's right; it's in the wash."
Hugh tried to hide his smile. Michael had attempted to ride Hugh's war-trained charger earlier in the day. The high-spirited stallion had been tolerant enough when the up-timer was in the saddle, but was impatient with his awkward attempt at dismounting. One sharp, tight turn had flung coat-wearing Michael down into the mud and manure.
Hugh rose. "Michael, I will—"
"You will not. You're my guest."
Hugh took his distinctively embroidered cape from the knob on the coat-closet door, revealing his scabbarded sword. "Then at least stay warm in this."
Michael seemed ready to decline, then nodded his thanks and took the cape. Hugh sat back down, contemplated the firelight sparkling through the bourbon, wondered what foreign fire he'd be staring into a year from now.
Presuming that he was still alive to do so.
**_Grantville, State of Thuringia-Franconia_**
Eddie emerged onto the rapidly dimming streets of Grantville and pushed up his collar against the faint chill. _You'd think after spending almost a year and a half on the Baltic I'd have a little better resistance to cold, but no._ Having recovered from borderline hypothermia while recuperating from the amputation had left him weakened for quite a long time. In particular, he had been susceptible to chest colds that, up-time, would have been annoyances cleared up by any halfway decent decongestant. Down-time, they were potential death sentences in his then-weakened state. And ever since, cold weather cut through him like a knife.
He strolled west, deciding to take a look at the three trailer homes that had served as his first down-time abode. He smiled to think of the early days when he and Jeff Higgins and Larry Wild and Jimmy Andersen had played D & D there, the game having acquired a strange significance given their displacement in time. It wasn't because of the "historical value" of the game—because there wasn't any; role-playing games were about excitement, not accuracy—but because it was somehow a symbol that not everything had changed with their arrival in war-torn Germany. Not every waking minute was toil for food, scrambling to preserve or rebirth technology, find allies, and repel utterly murderous foes. A quick session of D & D, where imaginary warriors and wizards strove to slay evil trolls and troglodytes, was also a reassurance that life had not boiled down only to a mere continuation of existence. There was still time for fanciful adventures, for larking about a fictional world with his very real friends.
But then Jeff had married a down-time firebrand named Gretchen Richter, and her entire loosely-associated clan had moved in. Overnight, fancy had given way to kid-powered frenzy. And that, too, had been reassuring and endearing in its own way. It was as though the house was constantly alive with rambunctious sounds of hope, thanks to all the healthy, lively children that were forever charging around and through its small rooms and tight hallways. Yes, in all its permutations, Eddie reflected, it had been a good house.
He almost walked past the tripartite structure, so changed was it. Gone were the bright, albeit fading, colors of the siding. The local tenants (who paid a pretty penny for the privilege of living in an up-time domicile) had given it a second layer of wood shingles, dug a number of discreet latrines in the back to relieve the burden on the indoor plumbing, tidied up the yard, and replaced two of the doors (and their frames) with solid local manufactures. They had also erected what looked like a huge, wooden carport over the entire structure, evidently in an attempt to preserve the metal and vinyl conglomeration from the elements. However, it created the impression that this was not so much a home as it was an oversized shrine commemorating trailer parks everywhere.
Through the windows, oil lamps glowed to greet the dusk, and then shadows moved with slow purpose toward the largest of the kitchens. A brief pause and then a sharp white-yellow light seemed to blot out all the other fire-orange glows about the house. Clearly, someone had turned on an electric light. Immediately, silhouettes of all sizes began gathering around it, some bearing what looked like outlines of cooking implements, others arriving with already-open books.
It looked ritualistic, Eddie admitted, but he knew damned well it was not some strange species of cargo-cultism, a trait Larry Wild had often ascribed to the down-time Germans before he was killed off the coast of Luebeck almost two years ago. This was the prudence of practically-minded folk, amplified by the parsimony of war survivors. Germans who had lived through the now-truncated Thirty Years' War were generally not spendthrifts. Every resource they had was kept as long as possible, its life extended by using it only when absolutely necessary. And when that intermittent and gentle use nonetheless wore it out, the object was repurposed—right down to its last component. Objects with limited service lives became especially revered objects: not because of their wondrousness, but because of the mix of singular utility and utter irreplaceability that characterized them. It would be a long time before the up-time boosted labs and workshops of even the best down-timer engineers and inventors were producing freon filled cooling compressors or a wide selection of vaccines or antibiotics.
But the down-timers were also coming up with new compensatory technologies, one of which now intruded upon Eddie's reverie. Just down the street from where he stood staring at the house that had been his first haven in this often frightening new version of the Old World, he heard a distant toot. Like a child's train whistle, but louder. He turned and, already moving far faster than he ever had with his peg leg, Eddie Cantrell hobble-ran in an attempt to catch the new monorail trolley that was approaching the stop on East Main Street, just a block behind him.
The strange vehicle chugged slowly into view: a simple wooden front car that resembled a rough-hewn and vastly shrunken version of a San Francisco cable car. Except there were no cables, and there was only one track, comprised of split logs, their flat-cut centers lying flush upon the ground, their sun-bleached hemicircular trunks facing up. The operator reached down, disengaged the drive-gear, applied brakes. The train slowed and the passengers in the front car swayed, as did the crates and boxes in the high-sided freight car behind it.
Eddie timed his hobble so as to wave his cane and shout when he came down on his good leg. "Hey, wait up!"
If the operator heard him, he gave no sign of it. Instead, he stepped down to help an elderly passenger up into the lead car.
Which, on closer inspection, was a radical departure from any form of up-time rail transportation Eddie had ever seen. In addition to the two, flanged, steel track-wheels—salvaged from small automobiles, and now leather-strapped on their contact surface with the rail—there was, for lack of a better term, a larger wagon wheel attached to the side of the car as an outrigger. It kept the car upright, and ran along the smooth up-time roadbed. The front car's very small steam engine, puffing faintly, was of entirely down-time manufacture. Not terribly efficient, and both heavy and crude, but none of that mattered: it provided reliable power to the up-time car wheels that pulled the car along the wooden track at a comfortable six miles an hour or so.
"Hey!" shouted Eddie again, and this time, missed the timing with his cane. But his new foot's spring-compressed heel popped him into his next step, and what should have been a nasty fall turned into an arm-flailing stumble.
Which apparently attracted the attention of the operator. "I wait!" the man assured him loudly, squinting at Eddie's gait. "We always wait for our soldiers."
Eddie waved his thanks, noted the driver's extremely thick accent. Swabian, from the sound of him, likely rendered homeless by the border wars between the up-timers' first allies—the Swedes of Gustav Adolf—and the upstart dukedom of Bernhard, originally one of the dukes of Saxe-Weimar. As had so many other refugees from all the neighboring provinces of Germany, this driver had probably come to Grantville to find his fortune—and no doubt, from his perspective, had accomplished just that. There was a palpable eagerness as he turned from seating the elderly passenger and came forward to offer a hand to Eddie. The prompt, energetic gesture radiated that special pride particular to those down-timers who operated the new machines that their own artisans had crafted from up-time ideas and inspirations. It was as though they were simultaneously saying, "See? We are helping build this new world with you!" and "Do not discount us: we are just as smart as you are." In truth, given how little of the up-time science and engineering they understood when Grantville first fell out of the future, and how much of its technology they were now mastering and adapting, it was arguably true that, on the average, the Germans were smarter than the up-timers. Markedly so, in a number of cases.
Eddie smiled his thanks at the driver and accepted the hand up into the passenger car. With only room for twenty, who were currently packed in like sardines, there was no seat left for him. Seeing the unnatural stiffness of Eddie's left leg, one of the comparatively younger men stood quickly, gestured towards his spot on a transverse bench. Eddie smiled, shook his head with a "Thanks, anyhow," and held on to the rail as the car lurched forward to resume its journey with a sigh of steam.
The other passengers were mostly mothers with children, older folks, and two other amputees. One of the passengers seemed to be a workman, hand truck tucked tight between his legs. _Probably delivering the cargo in the back_ , Eddie surmised.
They had hardly gone a block when the driver stifled a curse and backed off the steam, letting the little train begin to coast. Seeing Eddie's interest, he pointed forward. "Another train. I must pull off."
Eddie saw the oncoming train, almost a twin to the one he was on, approaching from about two blocks away. But there was only one rail. "Um . . . how do we—?"
The driver seemed gratified, rather than annoyed, by the question. "See ahead, the curve into the smaller cross-street we approach?"
"Yeah, you mean Rose Street?"
"Yes. We take that curve and wait."
"Like a train being diverted into a siding."
"Yes. But it is only one track, so we slow down to wait in the little street."
And applying the brakes gently, they slid around the relatively tight curve with only a slight bump. But the operator frowned at the brief jolt.
"Problem?" asked Eddie.
"Not with the train; with the track," he answered. "It is wood. It wears out quickly at the joints."
"Then why use wood?"
He smiled. "Because wood is also very cheap. So is the cost of putting new track into place. Much cheaper than iron. Or steel. Maybe you forget that, since there was so much of that metal in the future?"
Eddie smiled back. "Yeah, there was—but no, I didn't forget. I deal with that problem every day."
The driver's slightly graying left eyebrow rose. "Yes, and so?"
"I work with Admiral Simpson. Building the new navy."
"Ah. Of course you would know about iron shortages, then." He paused, looked at Eddie more closely. "So you are . . . are Commander Cantrell, yes? The hero?"
Eddie felt a rapid flush. "I was just—just doing my job."
As the other engine huffed past, the man's eyes strayed to Eddie's left leg. "I think you did a little more than just your job, maybe." He looked up. "I am honored to have you on my train." His English became slightly more precise. "Where may I take you, Herr Commander Cantrell?" There was also a hint of a straighter spine and the faintest bow. Not enough to imply a new, distant formality, but enough to show acknowledgement and respect.
"Oh, just up the street to—"
"The Government House? We shall be there very soon."
"The Government House?" Eddie echoed. "What's that?"
The man smiled. "It is officially called the 'Administrative Annex'—the old presidential office building. It is where all the decisions were made before the capital was moved to Bamberg. But as you must know, there are still many decisions being made there. And I suspect it will continue to be so."
"But then why relocate the capital to Bamberg?"
The driver smiled sagely. "Oh, Bamberg will certainly be the center of attention, and home to most of the bureaucracy. All the fine lords and burgermeisters will journey there and make speeches and drink too much and diddle the barmaids—if their wives have not made the journey with them."
"And here at the Government House?"
"Here is where the business of putting certain decisions into practice will remain. Certain sensitive decisions. It is interesting to see which offices remain here—renamed, but still here. Offices which must make important decisions very quickly. And how else should it be? Here, all the leaders, all the decisions, are still only a phone call away. But here, also, there are many up-time radios and the people who know best how to use them. Here is running water, and electricity for computers, and heat and light for winter hours that reach far into the night." He shifted a gear, opened the throttle, looked behind, and began to reverse back out onto the main line of the track that ran along East Main. "Bamberg is certainly the capital, the center for important talk. But Grantville, Commander Cantrell, remains the center for important action." And with that, he shifted the train's gear back into its original position, tugged the whistle cord, and, as if to give emphasis to that hoarse toot, opened the throttle to resume their journey to Government House.
**_Grantville, State of Thuringia-Franconia_**
Hugh sighed and sipped his bourbon again. Michael McCarthy, Jr., having shrugged into O'Donnell's heavy, distinctively embroidered cloak, thumped through the front room and out the front door.
Hugh let his head lean back on the sofa and closed his eyes, savoring the smooth aftertaste of the bourbon and letting the faces and voices of the past fade away. In their place, he let the utterly mundane sounds of the guttering fire and Michael Jr.'s progress fill his mind. Over the hissing crack of logs rapidly breaking down into embers, he heard Michael trot down off the porch and around to the garage-become-stable. A moment later, Hugh's charger greeted the up-timer with a congenial nicker.
And then, Hugh heard a fast, sliding patter of stealthy human feet: the almost liquid sound of an assassin closing on his target.
Hugh bounded out of the McCarthys' sagging sofa. He landed next to the coat-closet, hip-pinned his sword's scabbard against that door, and drew the saber in one, clean sweep, still moving as he did. He was already sprinting through the abbreviated foyer when a crossbow quarrel—almost certainly a blunt, from the sound of it—smashed loudly through the garage-side window closest to the front door. Someone had seen him moving, had taken a shot.
_But why a_ blunt _quarrel?_ wondered Hugh. That fleeting puzzlement didn't slow him any more than the front stairs. He leaped down all five, already running as he landed. As he approached the corner of the house, he heard a dull thud, a grunt, and the muffled bump of someone bouncing off the pliable up-timer wall-shingling that they called "vinyl siding."
Hugh went low as he snaked around the side of the house, saw Michael Jr. face down on the ground, a cloaked figure over him, club ready, reaching toward him—
_But not trying for a quick kill—_ a split-second observation which, again, did not delay Hugh. Trusting that the unseen crossbowman had not had time to both reload and aim his weapon, he leaped forward, saber whirring back and then forward with the speed that only a trained wrist can deliver.
The cloaked assailant looked up, quickly raised his club: a reflex more than a purposeful parry. Hugh's Toledo blade clipped the wooden truncheon at an angle. The wood stripped back and then splintered.
Michael's attacker was thrown back by the blow, alive only because his club had absorbed a cut that would have gone through his collar-bone. But, rebounding from his own collision with the house's vinyl siding, the thug turned his momentum into a sideways barrel-roll that brought him back up to his feet in a moment. He sped into the darkness—
_And I'm out of time_ , Hugh thought—and dropped prone just a second before a crossbow bolt sliced through the air where he had been standing. The quarrel impaled the vinyl upon the wood behind it with an almost musical _throoonk_. Hugh did not need to look up to know that this bolt had not been the kind used to stun small game. He jumped to his feet, sprinted along the reverse trajectory indicated by the quivering tail of the quarrel. He found the weapon that had fired it abandoned on the ground twenty yards away, in the lee of the neighboring house's shed. The dark night was quiet all around.
Staying low—as a lifetime of habit and training had taught him—Hugh frog-trotted back to Mike Jr., who was already raising himself up on his elbows. The displaced earl of Tyrconnell put an arm on his friend's not-inconsiderable bicep. "Here. Let me help you, Don Michael."
For a moment, Hugh thought that his middle-aged host was going to refuse. Then he felt the arm sag a bit as Michael grunted his gratitude and allowed Hugh to roll him into a sitting position, back against the house. But he was evidently not too stunned to speak. "So now I'm 'Don Michael,' too? What does that make me—royalty?"
"Aristocracy," Hugh corrected gently, wondering how the up-timers could command such wonderful knowledge of machinery and the physical sciences, and yet make social errors that would mark even a five-year-old down-timer as slow, perhaps simple. "I should have used the title before now."
"Before now, you were using it only on my da. I figured that was because he's almost eighty. So am I really 'aristocracy'—or just another old coot who can't defend himself any longer?"
The answer came from the corner of the house. "Speak for yourself, sonny boy." Michael McCarthy, Sr., was there, on his feet and unaided, but with one hand firmly clutching the corner-board for support. The gnarled fingers of his other hand were wrapped around the grip of a .45 automatic.
Michael Jr. goggled. "Da—you shouldn't be walking on your own. And is that your pop's old service pistol? I didn't know you kept—"
"Plenty you still don't know about me, Junior," interrupted Michael McCarthy, Sr. He tried to suppress a wry grin, almost did, but then his efforts were undermined by a bout of violent, phlegmy coughing.
Hugh was over to the ailing father in a moment. Michael Jr. following only a second behind, remonstrated, "Dad, you shouldn't be up—"
"Someone was shooting at my son and my guest—and damn if he didn't bust a window, too. So yes, you're God-damned right I got up, and brought a little bit of persuasion with me." He shook the .45 for emphasis—just as his wheezing phrases became a spasmodic coughing fit that was painful for Hugh to hear. He'd heard similar sounds often enough. War-time camp conditions in the Lowlands had killed almost as many of his men as blades and bullets. Now, lessons learned from up-timer books had begun to change that. Dramatically. But for a chronic condition such as Michael Sr.'s, there was little to do but delay the inevitable.
As they helped Michael Sr. back around the corner of the house, the door banged open and spat out the old man's German nurse, Lenna. Her fierce glance conclusively damned the two younger men for all the martial (and therefore male) idiocy that plagued the world. She almost shoved them aside in her outraged urgency to help Michael Sr. up the stairs, but at the top, he stopped, turned, snapped the .45's safety into place, and tossed the weapon down to Michael Jr.
Who stared at it, and then him.
"You're going to need it," the old man said, almost apologetically, and then disappeared into the darkness of the unlit doorway.
Michael Jr. stared after him and then back down at the gun.
Hugh put a hand on his shoulder. "Michael, are you hurt?"
Michael waved the concerns away with his free hand. "Nah. Hell, I've caught worse when a wrench slipped off the hood of a car I was working on. But what about you? Are you okay?"
Hugh paused, as he often did when Americans used that strange word, "o-kay." It had too many meanings, and each had its own maddeningly distinct contextual rules. "I was not injured—this time."
"'This time?' What do you mean?"
"I mean that I must assume that there will soon be another attempt on my life."
"Whoa—an attempt on _your_ life?" Mike rubbed his head. "If this growing bump and my short-term memory don't lie, it was _me_ they were trying to kill."
Hugh smiled, reached up, put a gentle index finger on the cloak Michael was wearing. It was the ornately distinctive one he had borrowed from Hugh just minutes before. "You took a blow that was meant for me, Michael."
He stared for a moment before asserting, "Well, then let's get over to the police station right away and—"
"It is not necessary that we involve your nation's public militia, Michael."
"The hell it isn't, Hugh. Look, you are a foreign dignitary, and someone just tried to assassinate you on our turf. And worse yet, they obviously had you under observation in _my_ home."
"Michael, I am no longer a foreign dignitary. I have resigned my rank and titles in Spanish service, and my earldom is attainted. I am, as some of your novels would put it, 'just a regular guy,' now."
"Bullshit. Regular guys don't attract assassins. I'm taking you to the Army—"
"Michael, your kindness is a great honor, but I must refuse. I am not here in any official capacity. I am but a man visiting my friends."
"Then—as your friend—I insist that you come back into the house until we can figure out—" Michael ceased speaking as soon as Hugh began to shake his head.
"Michael, would you have me repay your kindness and friendship by bringing death over your doorstep? These two blackguards showed unexpected—indeed, inexplicable—restraint in their first attempt on my life. They are unlikely to do so next time. So, no, my friend, I will not further endanger you and your good father by accepting the hospitality of your hearth again. I must leave. Now."
Mike stared up at Hugh for three full seconds. Then he looked at the .45 in his own hand and nodded. "Okay. Then I'm coming with you."
Before Hugh could utter a negation through the surprise and secret gratitude that washed over him, Mike had pounded back up the stairs, across the porch, and through the front door that had changed Hugh's life. And if the fates were as kind as they were strange, perhaps he and the younger McCarthy would not merely share the road to Amiens, but share professional fortunes as well. After all, any business with Turenne would ultimately be concerned with military matters—and Hugh had a long and varied acquaintance with those. Of course, it was too early to broach the topic of any kind of joint enterprise with Michael just yet, but the journey ahead would afford ample opportunities to casually learn more about the American's business in France, and if there was any way a displaced Irish earl might help with it . . .
Mike wasn't gone long—five minutes at most—before he reemerged, backpack in one hand, his other tucking the .45 under his belt. "I'm just about ready to go."
"But—doesn't your family have only one horse?"
"Yeah, but she's _my_ horse. Besides, my stepmother is doing her nursing in another city and Dad ain't riding again any time soon."
"Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"You mean, because you're someone's target?"
"Yes."
"Well, I've been thinking about that. Actually, if I come along, it still might put you in danger. I _could_ be the guy those assassins were trying to kill."
"Michael, admittedly you are a most important person. As a senior instructor at the technical college, I'm sure any number of foreign powers have a pointed interest in you. But you _were_ wearing my cloak when you were attacked. And if anyone wished to assassinate you, they could have chosen a hundred other moments that would be both less complicated and more subtle. I am forced to conclude that I was the intended target."
"Okay—but then wouldn't there also have been a better time to get _you_?"
"In my case, this timing might actually _help_ to explain why they made their attempt here and now."
"How so?"
"If an English agent got hold of my letter of resignation during its progress to Philip, then they will have learned that I no longer enjoy the relative protection of my official positions and my own regiment. They might very well send assassins—or maybe kidnappers—to intercept me before I can secure the protection of a new patron. After all, John O'Neill and I are still declarable as princes of Ireland. As offspring of royal blood, we remain worrisome to the English occupiers."
"Yeah, but England seems to have toned down a little bit on the 'Irish Question' right now."
"Officially, yes. And largely thanks to you Americans. But that might be why these assassins tried to use nonlethal methods, at first. King Charles—or factions in his court—might find it less complicated to simply imprison me in the Tower of London."
Michael nodded. "Okay, so maybe you _are_ the bullet-magnet. But there's something else you should know, Hugh."
"Yes?"
"It's also possible there's been some loose talk about the technology that I'm bringing to Turenne."
"Others know about it?"
"A few. One is going to have to come with us."
Hugh did not try to stop his eyebrows from rising.
Mike hurried on. "Yeah, I know: another fellow-traveler is probably not what you were bargaining for. But this guy is part of the package. Turenne is going to need him. At least for the first few months. And if this guy, or any of his friends, talked, and rival powers heard the whispers, then—"
"—then they would want to make sure that Turenne will not enjoy the advantage of this new technology," Hugh finished for him. "So first they would try to take you hostage and secure the advantage for themselves, but failing that, they might resort to a more 'permanent' solution—"
"Right, which would make _me_ the bullet magnet. Again."
Hugh smiled. "Evidently, we cannot know with certainty who is endangering whom. So we will share the peril equally. Now, you mentioned that we must pick someone up on the way. Who is this person?"
Mike started walking toward his nag. "He's a toymaker."
"A toymaker? What kind of toys does he make?"
"Secret toys."
"Truly? Tell me, Michael, what kind of toy would need to be kept a secret?"
"I'll tell you as we ride."
**_Grantville, State of Thuringia-Franconia_**
Ed Piazza, President of the State of Thuringia-Franconia rubbed his eyes. "Are those the latest production reports, Anton?"
Anton Roedel, former clerk for the city council of Rudolstadt and now Executive Secretary to the President, nodded. "Yes, Mr. President. The production numbers from the new coal mines should not be considered a basis for long-term projection, though. Their operating managers indicate that—"
"Yes, Anton," Piazza smiled, "I was listening when you read their letters to us."
Farther down the conference table—a battered brown institutional slab that had started life in the teacher's lounge of Grantville's elementary school—Vince Marcantonio, Piazza's chief of staff, stretched and groaned. "Please tell me that's the last of the reports, Anton."
"Yes sir, I thought it prudent to conclude with—"
There was a knock on the door.
Warner Barnes of the State Department sighed. "Now what?"
Francisco Nasi, Mike Stearns' spymaster, shrugged. "That would be the arrival of 'unofficial' official business."
"Huh?"
Piazza grinned. "C'mon, Warner, you've worked in the State Department long enough to recognize euphemistic 'code' when you hear it."
"Oh no," Barnes sighed, "not covert crap. Not now. That shit takes forever, and I want to get home."
"Before the evening gets cold?"
"Before my _dinner_ gets cold and my wife blows her stack. This happens every time you and Francisco come back from Bamberg with a 'special agenda' for us to go through. This time, I don't think I've even seen her in the past seventy-two hours. She's out the door before I'm out of bed. I get back after she stops waiting up. You're a damned home wrecker, Mr. President."
Piazza nodded. "My apologies, but let's not keep our 'unexpected' guest waiting." Raising his voice, he called, "Come in!"
"Watch," growled Secretary of the Interior George Chehab from his sulky slouch at the very end of the table, "I'll bet this becomes the longest, drawn out business of the whole damned evening. Mark my words—"
But then his jaw shut with a snap, followed by a guilty gulp: Eddie Cantrell stuck his head into the room. He looked a little puzzled as he scanned all the faces.
"Uh . . . hello, Mr. President, gentlemen. I'm sorry if I'm interrupting. I was told you'd be concluded by this ti—"
Piazza smiled and waved him in. "There's always more work to do than there are hours in which to do it, Eddie. No worries."
The recording secretary looked at Eddie, then Piazza, then turned a new page, and started scribbling.
Eddie glanced uncertainly at Anton and back again to Piazza.
Piazza nodded faintly, so faintly that he was pretty sure that the only two people who saw it were Eddie, who was looking straight at him, and Nasi, who saw everything, anyway. "No need to itemize the report from Admiral Simpson, Eddie. Just leave it with us. We'll probably go over it after Mr. Roedel departs."
Anton seemed to start slightly, then resumed his scribbling.
Eddie nodded. "I understand, sir. Perfectly."
And he and Piazza shared a smile, just as they shared a complete understanding of why a review of the report was being deferred. By waiting until Anton was gone, there would be no official record of Admiral Simpson's strident, not to say fulminative, arguments about the materials, money, specialists, priorities, and other assets he wanted—no: needed!—in order to have a snowball's chance in hell of getting a blue water navy ready by the promised date.
"Those folders under your arm," Piazza said, nodding at the leather-bound attachés that passed for "folders" in Early Modern Germany, "I take it they also contain brand new requests from Admiral Simpson?"
Eddie's smile was rueful. "Yes, Mr. President. They most certainly do."
"And what would the esteemed admiral want now?"
"Well, pretty much everything he wrote you about last month. Except lots more of it."
Piazza put out his hand for the folders. Eddie moved to walk them over. Piazza saw the limp, remembered the missing leg, jumped to his feet to get the folders, mentally cursing his forgetfulness and excusing it at the same time. _Damn it! Eddie was just a kid—just a smart, awkward kid—only four years ago, staring at cheerleaders, dealing with acne, and coping with the low ceiling of his possibilities in a small West Virginia mining town. And now he's a handicapped veteran. But I still see that kid, when I look at him._
And that was when Piazza saw the look on Eddie's face: that "kid" wanted to walk the folders over himself. And the way he held himself as he limped closer—straighter, in a military posture—shamed the image of Eddie Cantrell, Nice Kid, forever out of Piazza's mind. He was sad to see that old image go, but felt an almost tearful pride at the image that had now permanently replaced it: Lieutenant Commander Edward Cantrell, veteran and hero at the tender age of twenty-three.
Piazza extended his hand for the folders that Eddie could now reach out to him and he said, quietly, and as seriously as he had ever said anything in his life, "Thank you for bringing these to us, Commander Cantrell."
"My pleasure, sir."
_"—And my duty,"_ Piazza heard as the unspoken subtext behind those words. He nodded. "Before you go, Commander, we have something that you need to take with you."
"A return communiqué, Mr. President?"
Piazza smiled. "No, Commander." He turned. Francisco Nasi held out a large, varnished wood box, with a strangely intense look in his dark eyes, as if he was hoping they would convey something that he could not, or dare not, frame as spoken words.
"Sir?" said Eddie, puzzled, as Piazza turned and proffered the box to him.
"Open it."
Eddie did and seemed to redden for the briefest moment. "Is this—?"
"That's the finished medal, Commander. Allow me."
Piazza took the box back, lifted out the first Navy Cross that the United States of Europe had awarded to a living recipient, and put it around Eddie's neck. Who straightened and saluted.
Piazza straightened, "For your actions in and around Wismar, 1633, as per the citations read at the official ceremony," and saluted back. Then he relaxed a bit. "I know you did this last year in Magdeburg, with all the pomp and circumstance, but since the artisans and politicos were still arguing over the final design of the medal, and hadn't gotten around to—"
"Thank you, sir." Eddie looked Piazza in the eyes and then around the table. "It means more than I can say that you—that all of you—did this." All present had risen and come to attention as the real medal was conferred. Then Eddie frowned and glanced back in the box. "Uh—"
"Yes, Commander?"
"Kind of a big box for a medal, sir. And damned heavy."
Piazza smiled again. "I thought a congratulatory gift was in order. To commemorate the occasion and to help you in your future endeavors."
Eddie lifted out the wooden panel upon which the medal had rested. He stared, and then looked up at Piazza. "How did you know?"
Francisco Nasi may have smiled briefly. "I was sitting just down the table from you at your state dinner in Magdeburg last year. Perhaps you remember having a friendly dispute with the admiral over preferred side arms?"
Eddie lifted out the gift with almost reverent hands. An almost slender automatic pistol caught the light and sent gleams skittering off a blued hammer. "An HP-35. Manufactured just after the World War II, if I read the markings correctly."
Piazza grinned. "You do. Although you may be the only person in this world who would call it an HP-35. 'Browning Hi-Power' was the preferred term in the States, Commander."
Eddie, completely oblivious to Piazza's correction, turned the weapon over to confirm that no magazine was inserted. "How—where did you find this?"
Piazza looked down, shrugged, and was slightly annoyed when Nasi almost drawled, "Actually, it wasn't hard to find at all. It seems a person we know very well had it in his possession. Had an opinion of the gun similar to your own, Commander, and chose it over many others. Even though it was distinctly nonregulation in your up-time US Army. This person has often claimed that it never failed him, and that he preferred the larger magazine size to the stopping power of the larger . . . er, 'forty-fives'?" Nasi sent a glance at Piazza, checking his terminology.
Eddie followed Nasi's gaze. "You, Mr. President? This is _your_ gun?"
" _Was_ my gun, Commander. It is yours, now. Use it with pride and honor. As I know you will."
"Sir, I can't take it. I couldn't—"
"Rubbish, Commander. You've already taken it. And it's the right gift for a young man who has no choice but to go in harm's way with only one leg. By comparison, I am an increasingly paunchy man whose fate is to sit at a big desk although I have two perfectly good legs. Seriously, now, who has more use for that gun? Who needs every bit of advantage they can get?"
Eddie's eyes raised from the weapon and fixed on Piazza's face, assessing. "Mr. President, you're about fifty-five, now, right?"
"Not a day over fifty-four. Don't put me in the grave any earlier than I have to go, Commander!"
"So during your tour in the Army, you were in—?"
"Yes, I was there, Commander. And since the Browning worked in the jungles on one side of this planet, I'm pretty sure it'll work just as well in the jungles on the other side. I hope you don't have to use it at all, of course, but if you do, you may find it's nice to have a thirteen-round magazine when you can't usually see what you're shooting at very well—if at all." He left unspoken the fact that there were plenty of Glocks and M-9s to be had, which boasted even larger magazine sizes. But the Hi-Power was renowned for its reliability and kindness to small-handed or easily unbalanced shooters—as Eddie Cantrell now might be.
Eddie looked down and held the gun firmly with both hands, almost as if it were a holy relic. For a second, Piazza saw the eager, earnest kid again.
Eddie looked up. "I don't know what to say, Mr. President."
Piazza laughed. "I think 'thanks,' will be sufficient. Otherwise, I can tell you're going to get maudlin on me. Well, more maudlin. Now look here, Commander, I do have one bone to pick with you."
"Sir?"
"How dare you come down to Grantville and not bring your bride?"
"Sir, I didn't think that protocol—"
_Always Earnest Eddie._ "Protocol be damned, Commander, we just wanted to see her again."
"'See her,' sir?"
_Really? You still don't get the ribbing?_ "See her, Commander. Perceive her form. Appreciate her beauty. Feast upon her feminine pulchritude with our own, envious eyes. You get the picture?" And he grinned.
Before Eddie could get the surprised look off his face, George Chehab rasped, "How could you not know what we meant, son? She's a class-A knockout, that Danish Ann Margaret of yours."
"Uh, Mr. Chehab, her name is actually Anne Cathrine."
"Trust me son, she is a young Ann Margret. But more curvaceous."
"Now George," warned Vince Marcantonio, "let's not get too blatant in our admiration of the young lady."
Chehab smiled and shrugged. "Okay, but damn, I confess to disappointment that she didn't come down with you, Commander: severe, genuine, personal disappointment. She's as charming as she is beautiful, and we'd have liked to show her more of Grantville last year."
Eddie nodded. "Yes, sir. A return visit tops our list of things to do. When time permits."
And the room became quiet again, the jocularity chased out by the shadow of things to come. Serious things. Time to get back to and conclude the matters at hand, Piazza admitted. "Well, Commander, we are very glad to have seen you and presented you with your long overdue medal—and gift. I take it you will be returning to your duties immediately?"
"Yes, sir."
"Not even time to sneak a quick visit to Copenhagen?"
Eddie shook his head. "No, sir. Much as I'd like to. What with being a new husband and all."
"Amen to that," breathed Warner Barnes sympathetically, who knew because Piazza had briefed them months ago, that Anne Cathrine was "inexplicably" not with her husband in Luebeck. Of course, there was a simple, if unpleasant explanation for her absence: she had been purposely kept away from Luebeck at the behest of a group of Swedish officers. Anne Cathrine, they correctly asserted, was inquisitive, clever, enthusiastic, and probably could have deduced military secrets from fragments of conversations overheard in Eddie's quarters. Of course, the great majority of the command staff also held that she'd have been even more likely to die rather than give up those secrets. But there had been concerns among some ultranationalist Swedes that a new bride—and a Danish one, at that—should not be in close proximity to secret projects and documents. Nonsense of course, and driven by their distrust of Copenhagen's loyalty to Stockholm in the forcibly reforged Union of Kalmar. But those officers wielded enough political power that some concessions had to be made, and this one was consented to because it imposed politically-inconsequential costs upon only two persons: a love-lorn and sex-starved new husband named Eddie Cantrell and his pining bride.
"That's hard, lonely duty you've pulled up north, Commander," nodded Piazza.
Eddie either misunderstood or was trying to change the topic. "Well, I do like learning how to sail and command a ship, but much of the Baltic is iced over and all of it is cold and stormy as hell in February and March. Every time a training tour is up, I'm grateful to be back in HQ for another few weeks. Suddenly, sorting through an endless stack of papers doesn't seem so bad, when you're doing it in a nice, warm office."
"Well, I'm sure a lot more papers have accumulated in your absence. You certainly have done quite a job of depositing a hefty new pile here with us." Piazza gestured to the leather folios on the table.
Eddie glanced at the "folders" and nodded, taking the president's hand. "It's been a pleasure to see you again, sir."
"And you, Commander. Safe travels. And I almost forgot to ask: how are construction schedules holding up in the shipyards?"
"They're passable, Mr. President," an answer which Eddie punctuated by one moment of extended eye contact, a moment that was, again, probably lost on everyone except Nasi. Sagging a little, Eddie leaned on the table for support. "But everything will come together eventually." And with that, his finger grazed across the exposed corner of the bottom-most folio.
Which was all code for: _construction is on schedule and the new technologies have reached production phase, details of which are in this folder I just touched._ And the delivery of that message, and the coded details scattered as harmless phrases throughout the papers in that folio, were the only reasons that the young commander had actually been sent down to Grantville.
The new prosthetic had been a great cover-story—flawless, actually—but the coded reports on Simpson's classified projects, and his actual completion and readiness dates, could not be entrusted to airwaves or routine couriers. Even secure couriers were problematic because there was always the chance that their role was already known and that they would be waylaid at a most inopportune moment.
No, the best means of sending secret data—for which the codes were the second, not the first line of defense—was to send them in plain sight, so to speak. And that meant using a routine contact, such as Admiral Simpson's staff expert on technology initiatives and fellow up-timer, to convey a single secure communiqué as part of a perfectly plausible trip that had been planned upon months ahead of time. And it meant that there were only three people who had known the identity of the courier in advance: Simpson, Piazza, and the courier himself—Eddie Cantrell.
Who had now reached the door. He turned, saluted, received their returns, and with one boyish smile—like a parting endearment from his rapidly disappearing former self—he was gone.
Anton Roedel finished his scribbling. "Mr. President, shall I read back the—?"
There was a knock at the door. Anton speared it with a glance sharp enough to gut a fish. "Sir, are we expecting another—?"
Nasi interrupted smoothly, with a friendly smile. "That will be all, Mr. Roedel. Please drop off the evening's secure communiqués at the encryption office, will you?"
Roedel's eyes went back to the door briefly. "Yes, but—"
"We need those messages to go out as soon as possible, Mr. Roedel. So please, waste no time delivering them to the encryptionist on duty."
Roedel glanced at Piazza who nodded faintly at the secretary and added a placating smile. "On your way, now, Anton."
Who evidently was still miffed at being sent out when, clearly, there was yet another unexpected visitor waiting beyond the door. Chin slightly higher than usual, Anton Roedel gathered his papers and notes, squared them off, put them carefully in his own leather folio, and exited like a spurned ex-girlfriend.
It was Nasi who, three seconds after the door closed behind Roedel, called out "Come in."
The person who entered through the door Eddie had exited was small, slightly stooped, and dressed indifferently, a hint of seediness in the worn seams of his coat and his britches. He looked around the room's lower periphery, not raising his eyes to meet any of those looking at him. Pressed to categorize him, Piazza would have guessed him to be a vagrant who had somehow, impossibly, strayed off the street, past the guards, and into the highest offices of the State of Thuringia-Franconia.
Nasi nodded at the man, who exited far more swiftly and eagerly than he had entered.
Warner frowned, looked at Nasi and then around the table. "What, no message? Was the guy—lost?"
Nasi shook his head. "No, he was not lost. He was the message."
"What?"
Chehab leaned forward. "The messenger coming through that door could have been one of three persons. Each one meant something different, so their face was their message, you might say."
"And this one means—what?"
Nasi looked at Piazza. "It means that a pair of mechanics who were reported in town four days ago have just now departed."
Warner blinked. "Mechanics?"
Chehab shrugged, looked away. "Fixers. Freelance wiseguys."
Warner blinked harder. "What? You mean hit men, assassins?"
Nasi smoothed the front of his shirt. "Not necessarily."
"And what does _that_ mean?"
"It means it depends who hired them and what for." Piazza looked over at Warner with what he hoped was a small, reassuring smile. Warner Barnes was a relatively new and infrequent member of the group and wasn't familiar with how, or what kind of, things were done in this "sleepy subcommittee"—which also functioned, unadvertised, as the State of Thuringia-Franconia's intelligence directorate.
Warner still hadn't read between the lines. "And we just stood by while these two murderers were walking our streets?"
Piazza shrugged. "What would you have had me do? We don't have any outstanding warrants on them."
Nasi added, "They do not even stand accused of any crime."
Warner sputtered. "Then how do we know they're assassins, mechanics, or whatever?"
"Via the good offices of our preeminent international banker, Balthazar Abrabanel. His discreet connections with the Jewish 'gray market' frequently provide him with information about persons like these. They are often called upon to aid in, er, 'collections.'"
Piazza leaned in. "And we have confirming reports of their identities and reputations from the Committees of Correspondence. These two aren't political activists, but are well-known to the, um, action arms of the Committees."
"And Abrabanel and the Committees—they actually hire thugs like these?"
"Not often. And never these two in particular."
"Why not these two?"
Nasi shrugged. "Well, as has already been implied, this pair has a reputation for preferring to resolve matters . . . too kinetically."
Warner goggled. "So they're rougher than the average brute and we let them walk around our town, unwatched? All because some of our shadier contacts know who they are? Listen, Ed—"
Piazza shook his head. "Warner, they're not a concern of ours."
Warner gaped, tried another approach. "Okay, if you say so. But maybe we should put a tail on them while we make a quick inquiry into their whereabouts while they were here, make sure they didn't use their visit to harm any of our—"
Piazza looked at Nasi, who in turn looked at Warner, and interrupted him sharply. "Mr. Barnes. Allow me to be quite clear about this: those two men are gone. And being gone, they are to be left alone. Entirely alone. That is this committee's official policy on the matter. Is that understood?"
Warner blinked in surprise, probably more at the tone than the instructions, Piazza suspected. "Okay, yes, Don Francisco. Although I just wish I understood why—"
Piazza stood, making sure that his chair made a loud scraping noise as he did, which momentarily silenced Barnes. The president rubbed tired eyes and then stared straight at Warner before he could resume his objections. "It's been a long day, everyone. Let's go home."
**_May–June 1635_**
The ladder to all high design
**_Amiens, France_**
"Lord Turenne, we have finished searching their gear. Nothing suspicious, sir."
Turenne nodded and dismissed his orderly with a wave. He had watched from a narrow casement window when, hours ago, the strange trio had first approached the portcullis of his "testing facility." They had surrendered their arms as though they expected to do no less, submitted to the further indignity of a close personal search, and were then led into the courtyard to await a more thorough check of their rucksacks and gear.
While waiting on that process, Turenne had compared their self-written letters of introduction with the fragmentary dossiers he already possessed on two of the three men. The French intelligence was patchy at best, but confirmed that such persons did exist, that the individuals in the courtyard answered to their general descriptions, and that the positions and abilities they claimed in their letters certainly conformed to those attributed to them by the analysts in Paris. But neither source provided any clue as to why the group's two persons of note might be traveling together or why they desired an audience with Turenne himself. However, they had both been clear and politely specific regarding that latter point: they were not interested in speaking with the senior military authorities in Paris, nor Turenne's chief of staff Robert du Barry. They required an audience with Turenne. Otherwise, they explained—again politely—they would take their leave, and take their proposal elsewhere. Given his busy schedule, Turenne would normally have dictated a brief note, wishing them _bon chance_ and pleasant travels to whoever was the next influential person on their list.
But one of the two credentialed strangers was an American technical expert. The other was the storied son of an exiled Irish earl, and had played a pivotal role in repulsing Frederik Hendrik's drive on Bruges just four years ago. If Turenne had ever encountered a more peculiar pair of traveling companions, he could not recall it.
There was the anticipated knock on the door. Turenne elected to stand. "Enter."
Du Barry, along with two guards armed with Cardinal breech-loading carbines, brought the unlikely duo into Turenne's office. Du Barry looked to Turenne, who waved a desultory hand at him. "I am safe here, Robert. You may go."
With a backward bow, du Barry and the two guards departed—and headed to join two other guards secreted in small rooms adjacent to this one, the entrances concealed behind bookcases and mirrors. The code "I am safe here" had sent them to these secret stations to oversee their viscount's protection.
However, as the door closed behind Turenne's security entourage, the land-displaced Irish earl and the time-displaced American looked at the walls, and then exchanged glances. Then they looked at Turenne. And smiled faintly.
So much for preserving the impression of trust and a private meeting. Turenne surprised himself by returning their smiles. "Please understand, gentlemen, in my position, to be contemptuous of possible risk is to be contemptuous of one's own life."
The taller and younger of the two spoke. "We understand completely, Lord de la Tour d'Auverge."
He waved away that title like cobwebs. "My dear Comte, er, _Earl_ of Tyrconnell, let us dispense with these titles. They are so cumbersome, particularly mine. I am simply Turenne."
"And by that usage, I am simply O'Donnell."
"And your companion?"
The American stepped forward, hand half-extended, but then he glanced at the room's bookcases and mirrors. __Mon Dieu_ , is it so obvious?_ Turenne came around his desk. As he extended his hand in the American fashion, he imagined a nervous du Barry whelping kittens in his sally port. "I welcome your hand, _Monsieur_ —?"
"McCarthy, Michael McCarthy. Junior. A pleasure, Lord Turenne."
Plain manners and plain spoken, but forthright, honest, and unbowed. Turenne had heard this about most of the Americans. To many of his aristocratic peers, it made the up-timers intolerable abominations, like ogres who had learned enough of the ancient virtues of Athens and Pericles to become both supremely ridiculous and dangerous at the same time. But Turenne found the effect refreshing. He could already anticipate how, with a man of this demeanor, one could get to ideas, could get to agreements, and could get down to work, very quickly. And without the interminable folderol of titles, and protocols, and curtsies. "I welcome both of you to my, well, you might call them 'experimental laboratories.'" And with that greeting, Turenne resumed his seat. And waited.
O'Donnell heard the unasked question in the silence. "We apologize for taking the liberty of seeking you at your place of work, and with no proper application for an audience. But our circumstances and the import of our proposal are both such that this direct approach seemed best, if regrettably brusque."
"I see. Which explains much, Lord O'Donnell, since you could certainly have asked one of your correspondents for a thoroughly adequate introduction." _Or could have used them to bypass me altogether_ , Turenne observed silently. "Unless I am misinformed, your seal is well-known to the pope and Philip of Spain."
Hugh nodded. "It is."
"Yet here you are, on my doorstep, without any of the letters of introduction which would have assured you of immediate audience, and spared you the distasteful experience of being searched and examined like a common highwayman."
The American answered. "Had Lord O'Donnell secured those letters, he would also have alerted those same persons to our meeting with you."
Turenne nodded and looked at the displaced earl. "Lord O'Donnell, if I am not mistaken, you have been in the court, and then direct service, of Archduchess Infanta Isabella of the Spanish Lowlands, since you were two years of age. Have you now chosen to seek service elsewhere?"
The Irishman's face took on a melancholy expression. "I had little enough 'choice' in the matter, given what the histories of Grantville have shown me."
"I can sympathize, sir. My own career was changed as a result of those documents. Cardinal Richelieu advanced me on the strength of deeds I had not yet performed, and now, never can, for that history has been irreversibly changed. Is it the same with you?"
"According to their books, I am a dead man in seven years."
Turenne felt his stomach contract, suddenly cold. " _Mon Dieu_ —Lord O'Donnell, my apologies. I had no idea, or I would not have spoken with such insouciance."
O'Donnell waved aside the apology. "We all have different fates. And that was mine if I remained in Spanish service. And probably the fate of many hundreds of my countrymen, as well. And all for naught."
Turenne had read a précis of the European histories that had arrived with Grantville. "Sir, again you have my sympathies, but I must also be frank. I see no promise that the new history we are now embarked upon will make France any more ardent a supporter of Irish interests. Given the recent combination of our fleet and England's to defeat the Dutch, I must sadly project that there might even be less reason for hope."
"I do not place my hope in France, Lord Turenne. I place it in you."
The surprise of those words left Turenne both baffled and a bit wary. "Me? Why me?"
But it was McCarthy who answered. "Because, Lord Turenne, your nationality isn't what's important in this case. What's important is that you obviously understand, _really_ understand, the kind of changes my town has brought to your world."
"Your opinion flatters me, Monsieur McCarthy. But then why is the earl of Tyrconnell not joining his banner to that of your USE, and Grantville in particular? It is the very embodiment of those changes."
"Which is probably why that's not the wisest choice for Lord O'Donnell. His former liege King Philip isn't exactly a fan of ours, and vice versa. Besides there's the matter of his men's Roman Catholicism."
Turenne nodded. Of course. Many of O'Donnell's "Wild Geese" were extremely devout Roman Catholics, and most had been driven from their lands to make room for resettled Protestants. Their religious fervor and grudges would be a poor fit for the USE, which, despite its lopsided polyglot of different faiths, was founded upon the strong military spine and current leadership of the Swedish Lutheran Gustav Adolf. "So then, Mr. McCarthy, I suppose it is _your_ presence which is the greater mystery. As I understand it, you still retain your post as a Senior Instructor at Grantville's Technical College. If I also understand correctly, I would be a fool not to detain you on the spot and make your future freedom contingent upon your helping us with any number of mechanical challenges that my researchers currently find insurmountable."
McCarthy smiled. "But you won't do that."
Turenne kept himself from bristling at the American's self-assured tone. "Oh? And why not?"
"Well, first, it's not the kind of man you are."
"Indeed? And just how would you know what kind of man I am?"
"I know about the letter you wrote to Mike Stearns last year, expressing regret that your men killed Quentin Underwood during their raid on the oil field at Wietze."
Turenne suppressed any physical reaction to McCarthy's observation, even as he thought: _Interesting: that epistolary gesture has borne some diplomatic fruit, after all_.
McCarthy continued. "Detaining me would also ruin any hope of accord with Lord O'Donnell, thereby permanently and personally inflaming the Irish regiments in the Low Lands against you and France. But most important, forcing me to work for you wouldn't accomplish anything, since you obviously know that men who work against their will neither give you their best work, nor can they be trusted."
Turenne nodded. "All true. But I find it odd that you do not include your status as an American as a further restraint upon me. After all, keeping you against your will could be inflamed into an international incident."
McCarthy shifted. "If I were here as a representative of the USE, that would be true. But I'm not here in that capacity."
Turenne studied McCarthy carefully. "No?"
"No, Lord Turenne. Right now, I'm a free agent."
"You have renounced your citizenship in the USE?"
"No. But I've never taken a day off from my work at the college. It took me a few months to persuade my bosses, but I arranged to take all those days at once, added to a leave of absence. They didn't like that much, but they don't really have any one else with my skills." He shrugged. "I can do as I please with that time."
"And it pleases you to come here for—a visit?"
If McCarthy found the bathos amusing, he gave no sign of it. "I came here to make money, Lord Turenne."
Who, being unaccustomed to such a frank admission of monetary need, neither expected nor knew how to respond to McCarthy's statement. And it seemed that McCarthy himself had not been entirely comfortable uttering it. Unsure how to navigate this delicate impasse, Turenne leaned back—
—just as O'Donnell leaned forward: "Lord Turenne, Mr. McCarthy is a proud man. His father, Don McCarthy, is severely ill and requires constant and increasing care. More care than Michael can readily afford."
Turenne experienced a moment of utter social disorientation. "But does not the American government—?"
"With your indulgence," interrupted the Irish earl smoothly, "neither the USE nor Grantville itself provide for the private needs of even its most important personages. Within reason, they are expected to see to their own expenses."
Turenne looked at Michael and found two subtly defiant but pride-bruised eyes looking back at him. If this was an act, it was an extraordinarily good one. "I see," said Turenne, who remembered something else connecting pride and the name "McCarthy" in the intelligence he'd read on Grantville. Specifically, the McCarthy family was noted as holding an extensive book collection, and ardent political sympathies, that were both radically pro-Irish. And here sat an up-timer named McCarthy with a displaced Irish earl. The pieces were coming together. "So now I know why you are here. But I still have no idea what it is you wish to propose."
McCarthy's posture did not change, but his eyes became more expressive, less defensive. "We propose to help you with some of your current 'logistical initiatives,' Lord Turenne."
Turenne was not sure whether he should be amused or aghast at the blithe certainty underlying such an offer. "And just what initiatives are those, Mr. McCarthy?"
"Well, to start with, I think we have a way to help you achieve some of your long-term objectives in the Caribbean."
Turenne frowned. "Mr. McCarthy, I am rather busy, but out of deference to your background, I made time for this meeting However, I hardly think that France needs to consult with you—or, respectfully, the earl of Tyrconnell—on its strategic posture in the Caribbean."
McCarthy shrugged. "I don't propose to advise you on general regional strategy, Lord Turenne. I have a very specific objective in mind."
"Oh? And that would be?"
"Trinidad."
Turenne leaned back a little and narrowed his eyes. With every passing second, the conversation was becoming more interesting and also more dangerous. Michael McCarthy, Jr., and perhaps higher-ranking Americans, had been doing their homework, evidently. And now began the delicate dance—for which Turenne had little taste—of learning how much the Americans knew and conjectured, even as McCarthy might now be trying to determine the same thing about him and France's own speculations. Turenne studied the expressionless up-timer and thought: _he is a mechanic, a man who works with wheels. And he himself may be filled by wheels within wheels. A spy? Perhaps. But perhaps an emissary, as well. And both roles would require extreme discretion at this point._
"Trinidad," echoed Turenne eventually. "An interesting location to focus upon. Why there?"
"The petroleum deposits at Pitch Lake. They're right on the surface."
"True. But why would I want to travel across the Atlantic for oil?"
"For the same reason you took all the engineering plans from the oilfield at Wietze before you disabled the facility. You wouldn't have been interested in those plans if you didn't realize that France needs its own aircraft, vehicles and other systems dependent upon internal combustion engines. And that, in turn, means France _must_ have oil. And getting oil quickly necessitates owning surface deposits that you can access with only minimal improvement to your current drilling capabilities."
Turenne acknowledged the truth of the deductions with a wave of his hand. Denying something so obvious would only make him seem childish. "So, even if we accept your conjecture, I am still no closer to getting oil, even if I am willing to cross the Atlantic. Pitch Lake is held by the Spanish."
"It is on a Spanish island. That's not quite the same thing."
So they also had access to tactical intelligence on Trinidad. That was interesting. "You seem unusually familiar with, and sure about, the disposition of Spanish forces on Trinidad," he said.
McCarthy nodded. "A young American visited the island not too long ago, on board a Dutch ship. They landed near Pitch Lake and there were no Spanish to be seen, just a few of their native allies. So as regards Pitch Lake, either the Spanish don't know what they're sitting on, don't know what to do with it, or don't care about it."
A concise and accurate summary of all the possibilities. But the dance of dueling intelligence portfolios was not yet over. "Even if it is true that the Spanish have no town or garrison at Pitch Lake, it does not follow that the Spanish are inherently uninterested in it. It is a relatively short sail to Cumana and even Puerto Cabello, where they have a considerable depth of power. In order to hold out against a response from those bases, one would need a small flotilla, at least, to hold Pitch Lake."
"That presumes the Spanish are even aware you have taken possession of it." And McCarthy almost smiled.
So here at last was the first hint of something mysterious, unprecedented: a sure sign that the conversation would soon turn toward an unforeseen up-timer capability, upon which this pair was obviously basing their proposal. "And you have a way to ensure that the Spanish would remain unaware if Pitch Lake were to be seized?"
"Not permanently, but long enough that you wouldn't need to commit large forces to landing and initial defense. Sizable forces would only be needed once Pitch Lake was securely invested and held, to further fortify and secure it against Spanish attempts at reconquest."
"You speak of summoning 'sizable forces' as if I was the French military commander of the Caribbean, Mr. McCarthy. I assure you, I have no such authority. Nor does our senior factor on St. Christopher."
"I am aware of that, Lord Turenne. That is why our proposal for seizing Pitch Lake calls for only one ship."
"One ship?"
"Yes, Lord Turenne. A prize hull, currently at moorings in Dunkirk. The _Fleur Sable_."
Turenne frowned. The _Fleur Sable_ was a severely damaged Dutch cromster, recently taken by the "privateers" operating out of Dunkirk. She had earned mention in his intelligence dispatches when two confidential agents in her crew—one English, one French—both attempted to negotiate with the victorious pirates in the name of their respective governments. Heads (theirs) had rolled in the confusion and the ship, a potential item of international embarrassment, remained unsold and unrepaired. As Turenne remembered her, the oversized _Fleur Sable_ was square-rigged at both the fore- and mainmasts and lateen-rigged at the mizzenmast, meaning that she was not only capable of making an Atlantic crossing in good shape, but also had reasonable maneuverability in capricious winds.
Turenne looked at his two visitors with newfound regard. They had selected this hull carefully and well. And they obviously knew that, given his contacts and authority in the region, Turenne could acquire a single battered (and therefore under-priced) hull for "experimental purposes" easily enough. But that did not dispose him toward ready agreement. "And how do you expect me to crew this Dutch sieve?"
O'Donnell answered. "Among the ranks of the Dunkirk privateers, there are currently French sailors, and even a few officers, who were unjustly dismissed from Louis XIII's service in disgrace. As I hear it, almost all of them wish to return to his service, and success on a mission such as this might dispose him to hear their appeals with greater favor."
Turenne was careful to make no motion, change not one line in his face. _Merde! The audacity—and elegance—of the plan!_ And it just might work, if this odd pair did indeed have some way of seizing Pitch Lake without being intercepted first or detected shortly afterward. "His Majesty might indeed see fit to restore such men to his favor and service, but I am of course powerless to make such a promise."
O'Donnell smiled. "I fully understand, Lord Turenne."
Turenne wondered whether Richelieu would want to send him a medal or send him to the headsman when this operation was finally revealed. But France needed oil, easy oil that could be reached by her neophyte drillers, and Trinidad's accommodating seeps and shallow deposits were a matter of record, well-detailed in the books at Grantville. But there were still problems with the plan. "Of course, you have not yet discussed who will land on Trinidad itself and take control of Pitch Lake."
The big-shouldered Irish earl nodded. "Well, let us begin by acknowledging that this force cannot be made up of French soldiers, lest you officially embroil your sovereign in an attack upon Spain."
"Exactly. So who would serve as the landing party and foot soldiers?"
O'Donnell cleared his throat. "My men. Five dozen, hand-picked."
_I should have seen that coming._ "And they will serve France because . . . ?"
"Because you will provide sustenance for the rest of my _tercio_ while they are on this mission."
"And so let us presume you have reached and invested Pitch Lake with your forces. In whose name do you intend to claim it, for what country? Ireland?"
"A tempting idea, but rather futile, wouldn't you agree? No, I will take it as a private possession, for sale to the highest—or preferred—bidder. So you see, my part of this operation is to be a purely corporate venture."
Turenne's head was dizzy with the possibilities and pitfalls. Corporations seizing national holdings? Was the word "corporation" just a legitimizing euphemism for "free company?" Would private ownership by dint of military conquest be recognized by any other sovereign state? On the other hand, what would national recognition matter if the "corporate" forces held it firmly? And the Dutch East India company had already made several forceful rebuttals to the common monarchical contention that all the lands of the Earth rightly belonged to sovereigns, who then bestowed their use upon a descending pyramid of vassals.
However, despite the foreseeable legal wrangling, Turenne saw one other certainty clearly enough: by proposing that he take Pitch Lake as a private entity, O'Donnell was allowing France to remain blameless of overt conquest. Of course, once O'Donnell's seizure of Pitch Lake was _fait accompli_ , it was almost certain that Richelieu would move quickly to purchase the site. And then France would have its oil, and Turenne would be able to fuel the machines needed for the nation's defense. But still, the most nagging problem of all was that—"Logic and precedent dictates that the operation cannot be carried out by one ship. Unless, as you claim, your single ship can arrive at Pitch Lake completely unseen and land its small force intact, having suffered no losses in chance encounters. And so I must ask: can you do this?" He looked at McCarthy, certain from O'Donnell's expression that the answer did not lie with the Irish earl. "Can your American technology turn a small ship invisible?"
"No, but if you can see far enough ahead, you can detect and dodge opposing ships. Before they detect you."
"And do you have some means of seeing farther ahead than the lookout in a crow's nest?"
"I don't," said McCarthy. "But a friend of mine does."
"Oh? What friend? The German fellow you came with, the one downstairs?"
"Yes, sir."
"And what does he do? Build very tall masts?"
"No, sir. He builds hot air balloons."
Turenne, despite his well-practiced self-control, couldn't keep himself from snapping forward in his chair. "He builds _what_?"
"Hot air balloons, Lord Turenne. Right now, Siegfried's got a model that carries about twelve pounds aloft." McCarthy shrugged. "I think with a little guidance, some material support, and access to the inventories of your silk merchants—"
Turenne was on his feet, calling to the door and then the walls. "Orderlies. Please bring in the other visitor." After nodding briefly at O'Donnell, he turned back to the up-timer. "Mr. McCarthy, did you have plans for this evening?"
"Well, yes. I—"
"Your plans have just changed." Turenne finally smiled at the American. "And if all your hypotheses are correct, you will need to clear your itinerary for the next six months."
**_Off Luebeck, Baltic Sea_**
Eddie watched the slide and tilt of the inclinometer diminish, peripherally saw that his ship's hull was nearing the center of a long, smooth trough between the modest Baltic swells, and shouted, "Fire!"
The second gunner pulled the lanyard; the percussion lock atop the breech of the eight-inch naval rifle snapped down.
Flame jumped out of the weapon's muzzle. The blast shook the deck, rattled all the ship's fixtures, and buffeted Eddie's clothes and those of the gun crew as if, for a moment, they had been standing sideways to a hurricane. The gun leaped backward in its carriage, slamming furiously against its hydraulic recoil compensators as smoke gushed out of it in a long, lateral plume.
A moment later, water geysered up approximately half a mile off the starboard beam.
Beside Eddie, Admiral Simpson adjusted his binoculars slightly. "Thirty yards long of the target, Commander Cantrell, but you were dead-on the line. Your azimuth needs no adjustment."
"I just wish I could adjust the waves," Eddie muttered.
Simpson's wooden features seemed ready to warp. Eddie knew to read that as a small, but well-suppressed smile. "Sounds like a request for the twentieth-century luxury of electric ignition systems, slaved to adequate inclinometers."
Eddie tapped the deck fitfully with his false foot. "I guess so, sir." Chagrined that he hadn't hit the target once in ten attempts, he was reluctant to stop this part of the gun's first sea trial, but the protocols were set. "Swap out the ignition system," he ordered the gun crew.
Simpson raised an eyebrow. "You look annoyed, Commander." His tone turned ironic. "Well, don't fret over getting a proper inclinometer. I'm sure the arbiters of our destiny, the Department of Economic Resources back in Grantville, will put it on the top of their 'to fund' list when they get these test results. Even though they ignored my seven-page brief which predicted this outcome."
Eddie was glad that Simpson hadn't phrased his facetious assessment of the navy's budgetary overseers as a request for his subordinate's opinion of them. Because, truth be told, Eddie could see both sides of the funding argument. Grantville's resources were pinched more tightly than ever. Despite being part of the populous and productive State of Thuringia-Franconia, the town-become-a-city had less, rather than more, wiggle room when it came to supporting cutting-edge technologies.
It hadn't started out that way, of course. When Grantville had materialized, no one understood what it represented in terms of knowledge and advanced materials. Hell, there had been a lot of people who simply refused to believe in its existence. But then, with its decisive intervention in the Thirty Years' War in support of Gustav's Swedes, Grantville became an object of intense scrutiny. And as it integrated into the economic and fiscal life of the United States of Europe that it had largely midwifed into existence, and the broader domain of world events, its singular features came under singular pressure. Every monarch, great and small, wanted devices from the future, yes, but that wasn't the greatest drain. It was all the extraordinary down-time innovators who realized the potentials of steel, of rubber, of electric motors, of plastic, and then designed genius-level devices or processes based on them. All they needed was just a modest amount of x, y, and/or z, and they could usher in a bold new era of—well, whatever bold new era their invention was sure to usher in.
The crowning irony of it was that, after you filtered out the crackpots (which was usually not very difficult; they tended to be self-eliminating), the great majority of these extraordinary innovations would probably have done exactly what their inventors claimed: they would have revolutionized some aspect of life as it was in the 1630s.
But there were thousands of such innovators, and only one Grantville. Only one source for all that up-time-quality steel, and rubber, and plastic, and everything else that was both handmaiden and midwife to these new inventions. And while Mike Stearns had led Grantville in the direction of sharing out its unique wealth rather than hoarding it, there were practical limits as to how far that could go. By now, the daily influx of inventors, treasure seekers, and curio hunters into the precincts of Grantville had emerged as both a singular fiscal opportunity (inns, hotels, eateries, short-term rental properties had sprung up like weeds) and a singular civic headache (congested streets, overburdened utilities, inflation, and a far more complicated and multi-lingual law enforcement environment). And straddling it all was the State of Thuringia-Franconia's beleaguered Department of Economic Resources, which had to set policy on how the town's unique resources should be meted out.
John Simpson understood their job, may have even had a species of theoretical sympathy for it, but he was a man who had been given an official mandate that had also become his personal mission: to build a navy which, with its small number of hulls, could defeat any conventional force in the world. And the primary factor in achieving that extraordinary potency was up-time technology, either in terms of design, or in terms of actual up-time machinery. Unfortunately, it was that latter desideratum over which the admiral and the Department of Economic Resources, or DER, eternally wrestled, since there could be no increase in the amount of advanced technological systems. Grantville was almost four hundred years away from the riches of the American military-industrial complex, or even Walmart. There were never going to be any more motors, tires, televisions, or computers than there were right now. Not for a century or two, at the very least. And almost everything that Admiral Simpson wanted for his Navy, a hundred other people wanted for some other project.
The electronic inclinometer and fire-control system was, Eddie had to admit, one of those resource wrestling matches about which he felt the most profound ambivalence. On the one hand, that system was not technically _essential_ to the operation of the new ship's guns. And there was no accomplishing it "on the cheap." Down-time materials and technology were simply not up to the task of fabricating one that was sufficiently sensitive and reliable.
But if he had had a system that could the measure the attitudinal effects of wave action on his hull, and then send an electric pulse to fire the gun the moment that the ship was level, he would have been able to hit today's target—a forty-foot by twenty-foot wood framework mounted on a barge—on the fourth, or maybe even the third, try. Instead, after the first three shots—which had been required to make the gun's basic azimuth and elevation adjustments—he still kept missing the target by thirty or forty yards. But not because his targeting was off, or his crew was sloppy, or the ammunition was of irregular quality. No, it was because of these comparatively tiny three- and four-foot swells.
The roll in the deck beneath his feet was almost imperceptible. From moment to moment it rarely varied by more than one degree. But since that motion was not predictable, and since a fraction of a degree was all it took for him to drop a round short or long, it represented an irrefragable limit upon his accuracy. It was a random variable over which he had almost no control.
What little control he did have was through the combined sensory apparatuses of a down-time inclinometer and his own eyes. But the inclinometer, although the best that could be fashioned by exacting down-time experts, was simply a very well-built three-axis carpenter's level: it was not sensitive or responsive enough. And of course, the human eye was an invariably unreliable instrument—although when combined with trained human judgment, it could furnish by prediction much of what the inclinometer could not provide quickly enough.
That precision provided by electronic firing controls was simply not important to naval weapons and tactics of this era. The contemporary down-time guns were fairly primitive smoothbore cannons that evinced all the individual idiosyncrasies of their unique, by-hand production. And so, lacking the range and uniform performance of up-time weapons, it was inevitable that they were most effective when fired at very close ranges, and in volleys. That way, some balls were sure to hit.
Obviously, such weapons would have derived much less benefit from an inclinometer-controlled firing system. As Eddie had explained to Anne Cathrine, putting an up-time inclinometer on a down-time cannon was a lot like putting four-wheel disc brakes and airbags on an ox-cart. She had simply stared at that reference, so he had tried another one: it was like putting lip-paint on a pig. She got that right away.
But with the new eight-inch, breech loading, wire-wrapped naval rifles that Admiral Simpson had designed for these steamships, the want for truly accurate and speedy inclinometers was making itself felt. Profoundly. The extraordinary range and accuracy of these weapons made them, ironically, far more vulnerable to the inherent instability of a sea-going ship. This had not been so important a consideration during the Baltic War, where engagement ranges had been short, the waters relatively calm, and the hulls had been comparatively bargelike and stable. But now, highly responsive fire control was a paramount concern. The hulls that were the prototypes for Simpson's blue water navy—a large one similar to a bulked-up version of the Civil War era USS _Hartford_ ; the other, a slightly shrunken equivalent of the USS _Kearsarge_ —were ocean-going, and if they stood high, rolling seas well, it was in part because the shape of their hulls helped them stay afloat by moving as the water did. Ironically, they were far less stable firing platforms, but fitted with guns that required, and would richly reward, superior stability. Or fire control correction.
Simpson had won the fight to get the guns he needed, and their recoil carriages, but not the electronic inclinometer and fire-control system. Eddie could see the value in both sides of that latter argument, which had essentially boiled down to, "there are finite resources and the navy can't have first pick of all of them," versus, "why go to the expense of creating the most powerful and lethal guns ever seen on the planet only to give them the same sights you would find on a zip gun?"
As time had worn on, Eddie's sympathies had moved increasingly toward Simpson's own—probably, he conceded, because he would soon have to ship out in one of these new hulls and wanted to be able to reliably smack the bad guys at distances of half a mile. By way of comparison, the down-time cannons were notoriously ineffective beyond one or two hundred yards, and were laughable at four hundred. And so if that made engagements with such ships a very one-sided proposition—well, Eddie had learned personally that in war, mercilessly exploiting an advantage wasn't "unsporting." It was sound tactics. Indeed, anything else was the sheerest insanity.
"Commander Cantrell?"
Eddie swam up out of his thoughts, saw blue waves and then Simpson's blue eyes. "Uh . . . Yes, sir?"
"The gun crew has swapped in the new ignition system. You may commence firing at your leisure." Simpson put the binoculars back up to his eyes.
Eddie stared unhappily at the fast-fuse that was now inserted into the aperture that had, minutes ago, been fitted with a percussion cap nipple. The hammer for that system was now secured in a cleared position.
The gun chief, a Swede, saluted. "Ready to begin firing, Commander."
Eddie sighed. "Reacquire the target, Chief."
"Aye, sir." He stared through his glass, then nodded. "Reacquired, sir. Range and bearing unchanged."
"Very well," answered Eddie, "stand by for the order to fire." Eddie felt for the wind, watched the pattern of the swells, looked for another long, flat trough between them—and saw one. He glanced at the inclinometer. The yaw and pitch were too small to register and the roll was subsiding, the bead floating gradually toward the balance point. Eddie saw it move into the middle band, approach dead center—
"Fire!"
The second gunner touched the glowing match at the end of the handlelike linstock to the fuse. It flashed down in a lazy eyeblink: quick, but far slower than the near-instant response of the percussion-cap ignition system. The gun discharged, sending out its sharp blast of sound and air pressure.
But that lazy eye blink had been a sliver of a second too long. The ship had rolled a fraction past the perfect level point of the inclinometer. Water jetted up almost one hundred yards beyond the target, and very slightly to the left.
"And that shot," observed Simpson, "had the advantage of being fired at an already ranged and acquired target."
"I may have timed the swell incorrectly, Admiral."
"Nonsense. Your timing was as good, or better, than during the trials with the percussion lock. You know the reason for the greater inaccuracy as well as I do, Commander."
Eddie nodded. "The fuse delay. There's just no way to compensate for that extra interval."
"Precisely. The comparative difference in the burn-time of powder fuses reduces the accuracy of the weapon so greatly that it's barely worth the cost of building it. Percussion caps not only ignite much faster, but with far greater uniformity. But let's not leave any room for argument. Since the bean counters in Grantville want concrete justification to release funding for a uniform provision of the percussion system, we shall give it to them." He watched the second loader turn the breech handle and pull sharply; the half-threaded breech block swung open and fumes rolled out, along with a powerful sulfur smell. "Give every shot your best estimate, Commander. I don't want any more trouble with the DER than is absolutely necessary."
Eddie squinted, stuck a finger at the horizon two points off the port bow. "Looks like we may have some other trouble before that, Admiral."
Simpson frowned, looked, spied the almost invisible gray-sailed skiff that Eddie had just noticed, bobbing five miles to the southeast. Grumbling, the admiral jammed the binoculars back over his eyes, then was silent. Eddie saw his jaw work and a moment later, Simpson uttered a profanity which was, for him, so rare as to be shocking.
"What is it, sir? Pirates?"
"Worse, Commander," Simpson muttered through clenched teeth. "Unless I am much mistaken, that is the press."
**_Luebeck, United States of Europe_**
At a nod from Simpson, the two Marine guards stood at ease, but remained flanking the man who had hired the skiff. The fellow did not look particularly anxious. Then again, he did not appear particularly comfortable, either.
Simpson took his seat; he glanced at the chair beside him, which Eddie quickly occupied, grateful to be off his one real leg.
Simpson scanned the few scant reports he had on the man and his activities. Scanned them long enough to have read them five times over, Eddie realized.
The man from the skiff cleared his throat. "Admiral, I wonder if I might—"
"Herr Kirstenfels—if that is your real name—I have not finished studying the information we have on you and your actions today. I will speak with you when I have concluded."
"But Admiral, I only—"
It was quite clear what he wanted: a chair. But Simpson, who had kept this slightly pudgy man from sitting since he was taken into custody, simply waved him to silence.
Herr Kirstenfels shifted his feet but did not resume his request.
After another minute, Simpson put down the papers and folded his hands on the desk in front of him. "Herr Kirstenfels, I presume you are aware that you not only put your own life at risk, but also the owner of the skiff?"
"Yes, Herr Admiral, I know this now. May I please have a seat?"
Simpson frowned. "Herr Kirstenfels, you are hardly in a position to request anything, but I will allow you to be seated." The admiral pointed out a chair to one of the Marine guards, who promptly fetched it and put it behind the detainee. Who sat on it and winced: it was as small, hard, and ugly a chair as humans could craft. Which, as Eddie knew from prior witness, Simpson kept on hand for exactly this purpose. "Now, I wonder if you know how much trouble you are in."
"Perhaps I do not."
Eddie suppressed a frown. Kirstenfels' admission sounded humble enough, but it also sounded faintly coy. Not what one would associate with an appropriately cowed, even intimidated, civilian. The undertone in his voice did not suggest fear, but watchful maneuvering. _Hmmm . . . did we catch this guy, or did he want to get caught?_
What Simpson had heard, if anything, was not suggested in his response. "I shall provide a brief outline of the situation in which you find yourself, Herr Kirstenfels. You entered a test range during official operations. You did so with the admitted intent to observe our weapons trials. Since we did not announce the trials publicly, I must conclude that you bribed or extorted that information out of a representative of the USE's armed forces or government. And that alone constitutes grounds for a full investigation by my staff."
If Simpson had meant to frighten Kirstenfels, it apparently had not worked. The smallish man merely nodded, listening carefully to each of the specifications read against him. When the admiral had concluded, he reflected momentarily, and then asked, "But have I broken any laws?"
Simpson's color changed slightly. "That remains to be seen."
"Pardon me, Herr Admiral, I should have been more precise. Were any of the actions you cited just now legal violations?"
"Your presence on the test range certainly was. Your possession of information regarding the trials may be."
"Well, Admiral Simpson, as to the latter, I did not suborn or solicit information illegally."
Eddie noticed, and so did Simpson, judging from the slight stiffening of his neck, the carefully official language.
Kirstenfels expanded upon his claim. "I simply overheard the conversation between some of the land-based test crew talking about the gun with the sailors who were preparing to go out with it on today's trial."
— _A convenient and utterly incontestable alibi_ , Eddie conceded silently.
"And as far as being on the range during the test is concerned, I do not know how that could be illegal, Admiral."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, if the trial was supposed to be a secret, how could anyone know it was illegal? Since your men were speaking about the weapon tests in a public place, I rather assumed it was not secret. And I never did hear anything about that stretch of the Baltic being off-limits to the public."
"That is because 'the public' does not often venture into those particular waters, and because we had distributed navigational restrictions to all the ship operators and owners currently in port."
"Ah. But that is still not a declaration of illegality, Herr Admiral. Rather, it is an official attempt to make the area temporarily unreachable to the public. Those are two very different things. Wouldn't you agree?"
John Simpson was motionless, but Eddie could read that as one of the clear signs of growing fury. Simpson had a particular sore spot when it came to the press. In his view of up-time events, they had been uncharitable to his country and his comrades in the way they depicted the Vietnam War, in which he had lost his own foot. The press had once again been opportunistic and accusatory when he was a captain of industry afterwards. And Eddie could see that Simpson would soon leave a crater where this hapless reporter was now sitting, if he gave voice to even a small measure of his rage. Which was not in the interests of the Navy—
But Simpson surprised Eddie by exhaling at a slow, controlled rate and then smiling, albeit without the faintest hint of genuine amity. "Well, Mr. Kirstenfels, it seems you wanted to get access to me for an exclusive interview. And now you have it, don't you?"
Kirstenfels stammered for a moment, obviously surprised at being sniffed out so quickly. "Er . . . well, yes, I suppose that may have been part of my—"
"Come now, Mr. Kirstenfels, what else would be sufficient motivation to sail near a live-fire range? Certainly nothing having to do with our guns."
"Well, in point of fact, your guns are a matter of keen interest to me."
"So it seems. I have reports that, during the land-based proving trials, some of our perimeter guards escorted you back beyond the no-trespassing line." Simpson's restored smile was anything but genial. "You are an artillery enthusiast, perhaps?"
But Kirstenfels, despite his unprepossessing appearance, turned out to have more than his share of sand. "Perhaps, but not in the way you mean, Admiral Simpson."
"Then why don't you explicate?"
"Thank you, Herr Admiral, I will."
And Eddie could tell from Simpson's suddenly rigid jaw, that he had just given the reporter what he wanted: not merely an opening, but an invitation.
The reporter had produced a pad and one of the new, if crude, pencils that were starting to show up in a variety of forms. "You see, Admiral Simpson, I have been duly impressed by the tremendous range and accuracy of your new guns."
"They are not really new," Simpson corrected.
Kirstenfels nodded. "No, of course not. They are modeled on the ten-inch naval rifles you used in the Baltic War, except these are breechloaders rather than muzzle-loaders. But I was surprised to see the mounts for them being readied on the frigate-style ships you are building at your secure facility in Luebeck."
"Oh, and why is that?"
"Well, for the very reason you demonstrated on the water earlier today. Guns such as those require a very stable ship in order to be accurate. The monitors you first put them on have exactly that kind of stability in the mostly calm waters where you employed them, but not the sea-going frigate-style hulls you are currently fitting with steam engines."
Well, Eddie reflected, the steam-engine "secret" was going to come out at last. Which was just as well: it had always been pretty laughable as a "classified" project. After all, it was simply a logical progression to move from steam-powered monitors to steam-powered blue-water ships. In fact, all their projections had presumed that some external observers would have surmised, and then confirmed, that development long ago. Eddie and Simpson privately conceded that Richelieu had probably received definitive intelligence reports on that aspect of the ships' construction no later than March.
But "investigative reporting" was a new phenomenon, and frequently, even the best down-time newspapermen missed telltale clues of what might be transpiring simply because they did not have nuanced enough knowledge of up-time technology to understand how small details were often indicative of whole stories. It was the old problem of the expert tracker who is tasked to find an animal he has never seen or heard of.
But in this case, Kirstenfels was a reporter who obviously understood the greater significance of the (literally) "smoking gun" he was investigating. "My reading in Grantville last month suggests that those long guns would be almost useless while riding up and down the swells of the Atlantic. But there are other bodies of water—strategically significant bodies of water—for which they might be far more suited."
Eddie saw no hint of reaction in Simpson's perfect poker face, but reasoned that his CO's observations must be similar to his own. Kirstenfels evidently knew a lot about his topic, but probably did not understand the ignition variable: that with calmer seas and a percussion cap instead of a fuse, the rifles would be fairly accurate out to their medium ranges. But he certainly did understand the broader strategic implications of putting guns like those on ships that could travel on the ocean. Even if these ships were not being built for high seas battles, they might be intended to sail and steam into engagements on calmer, bounded bodies of water.
"I am speaking, of course, of their potential usefulness in the Mediterranean," finished Kirstenfels.
Which was both a correct and an incorrect guess, Eddie allowed. Eventually, that was where the new class of ships would probably be needed and hopefully, be decisive. But before then—
Simpson raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Kirstenfels, that is, to put it lightly, a most improbable surmise. What could possibly possess the USE to become embroiled in a Mediterranean conflict?"
Kirstenfels actually hazarded a small smile. "I could think of several possibilities. Ottoman expansion. Any serious threat to Venice, where the USE—and Grantville in particular—is heavily invested. An increase in the Spanish adventurism on or near the Italian peninsula, possibly including an attempt to eliminate Savoy's small but troublesome fleet."
He settled back in the chair that had been built—unsuccessfully, evidently—to prevent such relaxed postures. "However, the specific nature of the conflict is hardly the key datum in my surmise, Herr Admiral. I have been studying the ships you are building. They are high weather designs. That is more than you need if you were just going to punt around the Baltic."
Simpson's chin came out defensively. "Perhaps you've overlooked how rough the weather gets up here. In all seasons."
Kirstenfels nodded politely, but didn't look away. "Yes, but by that reasoning, then your choice of smaller craft becomes even more puzzling. The smaller hulls you've been procuring for portage on the larger ones are invariably very shallow-draft. They are lateen or yawl-rigged, have low bows, are narrow in the waist. Not for the Baltic." Kirstenfels glanced out the lead-mullioned windows at the choppy gray swells beyond the bay. "Five months out of the year, these waters would swamp such boats on a regular basis. They are, however, perfectly suited for the Mediterranean: river and inlet scouting, touching on shallow coastlines, and regular ship-to-ship and ship-to-shore exchanges."
A slow, ironic smile had been growing on Simpson's face as the reporter laid out his case. Kirstenfels' answering frown deepened as the admiral's grin widened. "This amuses you, Admiral?"
Simpson seemed to stifle a chuckle. "Oh, no, no. Please continue. I like stories. Particularly fanciful ones."
For a moment, Eddie glimpsed Kirstenfels without his mask of bourgeois suavity and well-groomed calmness. Intent and beady eyes stared and calculated, unaware that he had just been taken in by his own gambit, that the ships' ultimate goal was the Mediterranean—just not yet. But all hungry newsman Kirstenfels knew was that his finger had slipped off whatever sensitive spot had first irked Simpson, that the story which he had been building was about to slip away from him. He was annoyed, anxious, resentful at the easy unvoiced mockery with which his hard-gained evidence was being dismissed, and his conjectures along with them.
Kirstenfels' eyes lost that brief feral glaze. He tried a new tack. "Well, since you enjoy fanciful tales, let's try this one. That the fleet you're building is not bound for the Mediterranean at all, but for waters with somewhat similar characteristics and sailing requirements. Specifically, the Caribbean."
Simpson seemed to allow himself to smile. "Ah, now there's a new one. Tell me more."
Kirstenfels didn't get rattled this time. "I'd be happy to, Herr Admiral. Beyond the indisputable fact that the flotilla you are currently building would be supremely well-suited for operations in those waters, some of you Americans are likely to be relatively familiar with those waters. And you have a special interest in projecting your power into the New World, since the Caribbean has something the Mediterranean doesn't."
"Oh? Like what?" Simpson seemed to be trying to hide a smile once again.
"Like Trinidad. Like Pitch Lake. Like easily reached oil."
Simpson allowed the smile to resurface but it was faintly brittle, and Eddie knew what that meant: _that surprised him. And now Kirstenfels has hit the nail right on its head. If I don't do something, he's going to see and figure out the meaning of the look on Simpson's face and then the cat will truly be out of the bag—_
Eddie grinned, covered his mouth hastily.
Kirstenfels looked over at him sharply. "I have said something amusing, Commander?"
Eddie put on a straight face, shook his head earnestly. "No, Mr. Kirstenfels. I'm just, well, surprised that you figured out our secret."
"Your secret?"
"Yes, sir. About taking the flotilla to the Caribbean. It's no good for us to deny it any longer, now that you've put all the facts together."
Kirstenfels' frown returned. And Eddie could see the wheels of presupposition turning behind his gray, uncharitable eyes: _I know they will not tell me the truth, so my guess about the Caribbean must be incorrect. But they want me to believe it in order to throw me off the real scent. Of course, I should check to see if this, too, is just a ruse—_
Kirstenfels looked at Simpson whose face was once again wooden. "So, Admiral, since we are free to talk about the Caribbean, then—"
With a sharp look at Eddie, he cut off the reporter, "I cannot comment on any operations we might, or might not, have planned for the Caribbean." The faintest hint of the histrionic had crept into his voice, at which Eddie nearly smiled: _very well played, Admiral._
And Kirstenfels had obviously taken the bait. The instant he heard that slightly theatrical tone in Simpson's prohibition on further conversation about the Caribbean, a tiny smile crinkled his lips. Eddie could almost see the thought bubble over the newsman's head: _So, the admiral play-acts at upset and worry. The two of them hope to mislead me into thinking my guess about the Caribbean was accurate. All in order to divert me from my first, best hypothesis: that they really_ are _preparing for action in the Mediterranean_. A smug expression flitted across Kirstenfels' features and was gone all in the same instant, but Eddie knew the look of vindication and triumphant certainty when he saw it.
Simpson had folded his arms. "Is there anything else, Mr. Kirstenfels?"
The newsman rose, cap in his hands. "No, thank you, Admiral Simpson. Am I free to go?"
Simpson looked as though he had swallowed a gill of spoiled vinegar. "Unfortunately, you are, Mr. Kirstenfels. But any subsequent incidents will have consequences. You have been directly and personally warned not to pursue any further investigation into the ships we are building here or their potential uses. If you disregard that warning, I will hand you over to a judge to determine just how profound your disloyalty is in the eyes of the government of the USE. The Marines will see you out."
"And I presume I am not allowed to ask any questions of your men that might be construed to be an inquiry into their ultimate destination in the Mediterranean?"
"Or the Caribbean," Simpson added peevishly. If Eddie hadn't known better, he would have truly believed that the admiral was now irritated at having to play-act at such lame and obvious conceits as prohibiting Caribbean inquiries.
"Or the Caribbean," Kirstenfels agreed, almost facetiously from the doorway. "Good day, gentlemen."
Simpson stared at the door for five silent seconds before turning toward Eddie and matching his smile. "Thanks for the quick thinking, Commander. He had me on the ropes for that first second, when he hit on the Caribbean."
"My pleasure, Admiral. You're quite the poker player. Masterful last bluff, by the way."
The older man's smile became slightly predatory. "Do _you_ play poker, Commander?"
"Not with you, sir."
"Ah. Well, in this case, that caution might indeed be more helpful than a gamesman's daring. At any rate, I'm sure we'll be hearing about our Mediterranean flotilla any day now."
"Yes, but Kirstenfels' report will be so premature that it will actually be meaningless."
"'Premature,' Commander?"
"Yes, sir. As you pointed out honestly enough, we have no reason to go down there. But you left out an important qualifying word: _'Yet.'_ "
Simpson's rare light-hearted mood extinguished as sharply as a candle in a cold breeze. "Situations can change very dramatically and very quickly, Commander. We could find ourselves wishing for a Mediterranean fleet much sooner than our own timelines of 'international eventualities' suggest. But enough: we've lost a lot of time misdirecting that ambulance chaser. What's the latest status update on the New World mission, Commander?"
**_Convent of the Dames Blanches, Louvain, The Low Countries_**
"Your Highne—I mean, Sister Isabella?"
The urgency in the novitiate's tone caused the infanta Isabella to start—that, and a brief pulse of religious guilt. Once again, Isabella's thoughts had drifted away from her devotions and novenas and veered into memories of her long-dead husband Albert and poignant fantasies of a family that might have been. "What is it, my child?"
"There is a . . . a penitent here to see you."
"A penitent?" Isabella sat a bit straighter. Sister Marie was neither a very mature nor a very wise novitiate, but she certainly knew that only priests could hear confessions and that they generally did not situate themselves at convents to do so. So this "penitent" was clearly someone traveling incognito, a subtlety which had obviously eluded, and therefore baffled, the country-bred novitiate.
Isabella smoothed her habit, touched her neck as if to assure herself that it was still there, and nodded. "Show the 'penitent' in."
If the young nun was surprised that the sister who was also the archduchess of the Spanish Lowlands was willing to receive a "penitent" in the unusually well-furnished room that had been set aside for her biweekly retreats, she gave no sign of it.
But when Sister Marie returned, she was decidedly flustered.
"Sister Isabella . . . this penitent . . . I am not sure. That is, I think . . . I fear I have—"
"Yes, he is a man. Do not be alarmed, child. None of the men I know bite. At least, they don't bite nuns. Usually."
Sister Marie first flushed very red, then blanched very white. She made a sound not unlike a whimpering squeak, then nodded herself out and the visitor in.
Isabella smiled as she turned. So which one of her many renegade charges had been resourceful enough to find her here—?
She stopped: a large figure draped in a cloak of gray worsted had already entered and sealed the room. The cloak was ragged at the edges, loosely cowled over the wearer's face. Whatever else Isabella had expected, this rough apparel and stealthy approach was not merely discomfiting but downright—
Then the hood went back and she breathed out through tears that, at her age, came too readily and too quickly for her to stop. "Hugh." And suddenly, in place of what the wool had revealed—a square chin, strong straight nose, and dark auburn hair—she saw:
—the cherubic face of her newest page, sparkling blue eyes taking in the wonders of her formal, or "high," court for the first time. Sunbeams from the towering windows marked his approach with a path of luminous shafts, which, as he walked through each one, glanced back off his reddish-brown hair as flashes of harvest gold. When summoned, his final approach to the throne was composed, yet there was mischief hiding behind the tutored solemnity of his gaze.
Isabella had affected a scowling gravity with some difficulty. "Are you sure you are prepared to be a page in this court, young Conde O'Donnell?"
"Your Grace, I'm sure I'm not!" His voice was high, but strong for his age. "But I will grow into this honor, just as I grow into the clothes you and the good archduke always send me." And then Albert had laughed, and so had she, and the little boy smiled, showing a wonderful row of—
His white teeth were still as bright now as then, she realized as she reached out and put two, veined, wrinkled hands on either side of Hugh's face. "My dear boy. You have returned."
"Dearest Godmother, I have."
And the pause told her, in the language of people who have long known each others' hearts, that he had not just returned from Grantville, but from the long, dark travail that had started when he had turned away from his young wife's winter grave almost five months ago. There was light in those dark blue eyes once again.
"Tell me of your trip to Grantville."
He did. She listened, nodded several times. "And so you have decided to leave Spanish service."
He blinked. "You have your copy of the letter? Already?"
"Of course. And you most certainly make an eloquent appeal for the home rule of the Netherlands, and link it to your own cause most cleverly."
"So you think well of this?"
"Of the letter? The writing is like music, the idea eminently sound, and sure to save thousands of lives. And, of course, Philip will not countenance it."
"Perhaps not. But I must try. Even though Olivares is obstinate about retaking the United Provinces."
"So now you have ears at Philip's court, too?"
"No, but I see what's happening to his treasury. Yet he remains dedicated to spending countless _reales_ to retain lands that have already been, __de facto__ , lost to the crown. Once Fernando declared himself 'King in the Low Countries,' no other political outcome was possible. But Olivares has no prudence in the matter of the Lowlands. He spends money like a drunken profligate to prop up the economy while slashing even basic provisioning for its _tercio_ s. His fine faculties no longer determine how he reacts to events here. He is driven by pride and obstinacy."
She smiled. "I will make a prince of you yet, my dear Earl of Tyrconnell. You have a head for this game."
"That is because I have a peerless tutoress. Whose many wiles still surprise me: how did you get hold of my letter weeks before my man was to deliver it?"
"Dear boy, do you not think that I know what confidential agents you employ, and that I keep them better paid than you can afford?"
She saw surprise in his eyes and remembered how the first sight of them had been a salve to her wounded soul. He had arrived in her privy court as a stumbling toddler, shortly after she had lost her third—and last—child in infancy. In those days, she thought her attention to little Hugh's education and fortunes was merely a clever self-distraction from her own sorrows. But now, being surprised by him like this, and finding her heart leaping up with a simple joy, she realized, perhaps for the first time, that he had been a surrogate for her losses, her childlessness. And he—fatherless a year after he arrived, and his mother a shadow figure trapped in the English court—had been, for all intents and purposes, an orphan, as beautiful and bright a child as might have stepped out of Eden. But there had been ambitious serpents all around, serpents sly and protected by titles, so she had often been compelled to protect him by employing methods as subtle and devious as theirs.
And she would still need to protect him now. "I must say that the timing of your decision to leave Philip's employ is . . . dismaying, my dear."
"Not as dismaying as finding that my godmother's intelligence network includes my own servitors."
"Hush, Hugh. How else could I know if one of them had finally been suborned by enough English pounds to betray you? But this time, it simply alerted me to your impending departure."
Hugh's eyes dropped. "What I found in Grantville left me no choice _but_ to depart. Even if I was willing to go on to the fate those histories foretold, I cannot also lead my countrymen into pointless deaths. But I know well enough that Philip will not deem those sufficient grounds for my resignations, not even if he were to suddenly give full credence to the revelations of Grantville. All that he will see is that I have become a base ingrate."
Isabella smiled. "Perhaps. But here is what I see." She laid one hand back on his cheek, hating the palsied quiver in it that she could not still. " _I_ see a man who blamed himself, and maybe the Spanish clergy's initial nonsense about the 'satanic' Americans, for his wife's death. And I see a nobleman who had to discover and act upon what the future held in store for his land and his people. And so you went to Grantville. And you have acted as you must. Now, tell me: having visited twice, what did you think of the Americans?"
"They are . . . very different from us." Hugh looked up. "But I had suspected that, particularly after they sent me both condolences for Anna and an invitation to visit them all in one letter."
"Yes, their manners are often—curious. Sometimes even crude. But on the other hand, so many of our courtesies have lost the gracious intentions that engendered them. The American manners are—well, they may be simple, but they are not empty. But enough of this. If you come to me disguised in this rude garb, I presume we cannot have much time, so—to business."
"Yes, Godmother. In part, I had come to tell you to expect the copy of my letter to Philip within the week. Which you have had for over a month, I gather. But I also came to tell you something else."
"Yes?" Such hesitancy was most unlike Hugh, and she felt her fingers become active and tense.
"My men will not all stay in your employ."
She closed her eyes, made sure her voice remained neutral. It would not do to impart the faintest hint to Hugh that she knew more about his most recent activities and the condition of his _tercio_ than he did. "I presumed some of your men might wish to leave, since Philip has not sent sufficient pay in many months. A reasonable number are free to go at once. I will see to their release from service. But I cannot afford to have an entire _tercio_ disband overnight. It will take some months to achieve a full release. And we will have to weather a torrent of displeasure from Madrid."
"And my many thanks for bearing the brunt of Philip's imperial temper, but that is still not what I came to tell you."
Isabella became nervous again. Her intelligence on Hugh's movements and meetings was uncommonly good and multisourced. But surprises were still possible, and at this point, the smallest surprise could derail the delicate plans she had set in motion.
"Godmother, it may yet transpire that Philip will think worse of me than merely being an ingrate. Though Spain may have made some temporary alliances of convenience, her interests are still ranged against almost every other nation of Europe. And so, if my employ is not with Philip, I might find myself confronting his banners, rather than beneath them."
Despite anticipating this, Isabella still felt a stab at her heart, wondered if it was emotion or the frailty of age. "Dear boy, this is dire news."
"How can it be otherwise, dearest Godmother? But before I depart to—to distant places, I want you to _know_ this:"—and he stopped and reached out a hand to touch her cheek, down which tears promptly sped in response—"I will never suffer my sword, or those of my men, to be lifted against yours."
"I remain a vassal of Philip, so how can you make such a promise?"
Hugh looked at her steadily. "I make my oath and I pledge my life upon it." And then he studied her more closely, a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. "But I foresee that my promise may not be so difficult an oath to keep as you suggest. I see other changes afoot, Godmother. Don Fernando proclaims himself the king in the Low Countries, but not the king _of_ the Netherlands? What careful distinctions. They almost seem like mincing steps and mincing words, if I didn't know him—and you—better."
As his smile widened knowingly, she felt another stab of panic: _does he suspect our plans? He must not! Not yet, anyway—for his own sake._ And his next words did indeed quicken her fear that Hugh might have stumbled upon the subtle machinations she had activated for his eventual benefit and of which he had to remain unaware, for now.
"And Fernando's careful steps towards greater autonomy also lead me to wonder: which Americans have had your ear in the privy chambers? And how has Philip reacted to your receiving their counsel, and to Fernando's unusual declaration? No, do not tell me. If I do not know Philip's will on this matter, or your plans—and you do not know mine—then Philip can never accuse you of being a traitor to his throne, no matter what might occur."
Isabella managed not to release her breath in one, great sigh of relief. No, he had no specific information. He discerned the looming crisis—the inevitable conflicts with Madrid—but nothing more specific. Thankfully, he had not learned of their plans or his envisioned role in them.
Hugh was now completing and expanding the oath with which he had begun. "So finally, know this too, Godmother. Once I have returned from my travels, if you call for my sword, it is yours. And, if Don Fernando finds himself estranged from his brother's good opinion, and still in your favor, he may call for my sword as well."
Until that moment, Isabella had always cherished a view of Hugh as the wonderful, smiling boy that had made her childless life a little more bearable. Now, he was suddenly, and completely, and only, a man and a captain, and, possibly, an important ally in the turbulent times to come. The ache of her personal desolation vied with the almost parental pride she felt for the boy who had become this man. The contending emotions washed through her in a chaotic rush and came out as another quick flurry of tears. Through which she murmured, " _Via con Dios_ , dear Hugh. Wherever you may go."
He smiled, took his hand from her cheek, and put his lips to her forehead, where he placed a long and tender kiss. She sighed and closed her eyes.
When she opened them, he was gone.
**_Amiens, France_**
As du Barry entered, Turenne looked up. "What news?"
"We have word concerning the earl of Tyrconnell's clandestine northward journey, sir. He slipped over the border into the Lowlands without incident four nights ago. Soon after, he apparently began the process of bringing the first group of troops down to us, the ones that will go with him to Trinidad."
"Excellent. And how do you know this?"
"Reports from our watchers near his _tercio_ 's bivouac report a smallish contingent making ready for travel. Several hundred more seem to be making more gradual preparations for departure."
"I see. Did Lord O'Donnell ask for their release from service at court in Brussels?"
"No, sir."
"Then how did he manage it?"
Du Barry reddened. "I regret to say we do not know, Lord Turenne. Once he crossed the border, our agents were not able to keep track of him. He is far more versed in the subtleties of those lands and those roads. For a while, we even feared him dead."
Turenne started. "What? Why?"
"The very last reports inexplicably placed him in Colonel Preston's camp just outside of Brussels during a surprise attack upon a council of the other captains of the Wild Geese _tercio_ s. Our observer necessarily had to hang well back, so as not to be picked up in the sweeps afterward. By the time he returned, he could find no trace of O'Donnell, nor pick up his trail."
Turenne thought. "Is there any chance the earl himself staged that attack? As a decoy to distract our observers, and to escape in the confusion of its aftermath?"
Du Barry shrugged. "Not unless Lord O'Donnell was also willing to sacrifice a number of his own men to achieve those ends, sir. And his reputation runs quite to the contrary of such a ruthless scheme. His concern for his men is legendary, and a matter of record. The only friction he ever had with his godmother the archduchess, other than some puppyish clamorings to be sent to war too early in his youth, were his complaints over the recent welfare of, and payrolls for, the common soldiers of his _tercio_."
"Complaints for which he had good grounds, as I hear it."
"Indeed so, Lord Turenne. Although his godmother herself has had no hand in causing the _tercio_ s' pay to be in arrears. That is determined by the court at Madrid." Du Barry shifted slightly "While on the subject of the earl of Tyrconnell's Wild Geese, sir: is it your intent to really allow hundreds of them to cross over the border into France in one group? I suspect there might be some, er, pointed inquiries, if you were to add so many mercenaries to your payroll, and all at once."
Turenne stared at his chief councilor and expediter. "What are you driving at, du Barry?"
"Sir, with the recent increased tensions at court between Cardinal Richelieu's faction, and that of Monsieur Gaston, a sudden hiring of hundreds, and eventually perhaps thousands, of new foreign mercenaries could appear to be motivated by domestic rather than foreign worries."
"Ah," sighed Turenne with a nod. "True enough, du Barry. And if it reassures you, I do not intend to allow the earl of Tyrconnell's larger force to cross into France until we have full satisfaction in the matter of the tasks which lie before him in the Caribbean. However, in the meantime, we will provide for them as promised by sending the necessary livres over the border to the sutlers for their camps. We cannot hire them outright as long as they remain in service to Fernando and, I presume, Philip. So any money sent to them directly would be rightly construed as a sign that we had engaged their services while their oaths were still with their original employers. They, and we, would be rightly accused of base treachery.
"But mere provisioning cannot be so construed, for they are simply the designated beneficiaries of largesse which their countryman Tyrconnell has purchased for them. And so, even before they come to our colors, we will have bought their loyalty with 'gifts' of food for their hungry families. And by letting them clamor ever louder for permission to march south, we acquire something that I suspect Lord O'Donnell has not foreseen."
"And what is that, sir?"
"Leverage over the earl himself."
Du Barry frowned. "Now it is I who do not understand what you are driving at, Lord Turenne."
Turenne smiled. "Let us presume that the Wild Geese in Brussels' employ are becoming ever-more desirous of being allowed into France. Now let us also presume that the earl of Tyrconnell succeeds in his bid to wrest Trinidad from the Spanish. We may still need leverage over him in order to ensure that we remain the recipients of what he has seized.
"I hope, and believe, that Richelieu's factors in the New World will offer the earl a fair price, and promptly. The ship dispatched by the _Compagnie des Îles de l'Amérique_ to discreetly observe O'Donnell's progress carries not only the cardinal's personal agent, but also a great deal of silver.
"But if the negotiation with O'Donnell does not come off as planned—well, we must retain an incentive to compel him to turn the oil over to us. And if we still have the power to deny his increasingly desperate men entry to France at that time, he will have an additional incentive to look with particular favor on any terms our representatives offer him."
Du Barry nodded, then asked in a careful voice, "Would he not have an even greater incentive to comply if we already had his men in our camps, unarmed and vulnerable to our . . . displeasure?"
Turenne frowned. "I will go only so far, du Barry. Leverage should not become synonymous with extortion, or kidnapping. I refuse to offer physical shelter to men that I actually intend to use as hostages. Let others play at such games: I shall not. I will keep my honor, my good name, and my soul, thank you. Besides, our agents in Brussels report that whispers about the Wild Geese's possible departure en masse have fueled official concerns regarding their loyalty. Those concerns may be manifesting as even further constraints upon their provisioning. Furthermore, the commanders of the Spanish _tercio_ s are finding their Irish comrades increasingly worrisome and are pleading with Philip to remove them entirely."
Turenne stood and poured a glass of wine as he outlined the logical endgame of the evolving political situation in the Spanish Lowlands. "Consequently, as the poverty of the Wild Geese increases, so will their desperation. Given another half year, they will all be clamoring to come to Amiens, where we shall be happy to accept them at rates favorable to us. And the earl of Tyrconnell, being a true, albeit young, father to his men, will not deny them that livelihood."
Du Barry edged closer. Turenne took the hint and poured out a second glass with an apologetic smile. "Do not worry, du Barry. Matters are in hand."
Du Barry took the glass; he raised it slightly in Turenne's direction. "I toast the assured success of your plans, my lord, for they are so well-crafted as to need no invocation of luck."
Turenne halted his glass's progress to his lips. "Plans always need invocations of luck, du Barry. For we can only be sure of one thing in this world: that we may be sure of nothing in this world. A thousand foreseeable or unforeseeable things could go wrong. But this much we know, for we have seen it with our own eyes: France has a workable observation balloon, now. But the rest, this quest for New World oil?" Now Turenne sipped. "I avoid overconfidence at all times, my dear du Barry, for I am not one to snub fate. Lest it should decide to snub me in return."
**_Thuringia, United States of Europe_**
Major Larry Quinn of the State of Thuringia-Franconia's National Guard led the way down the last switchback of the game trail, which spilled out into a grassy sward. That bright green carpet of spring growth sloped gently down to where the river wound its way between the ridge they had been on and the rocky outcropping that formed the opposite bank.
Quinn looked behind, as the other two people in the group were navigating the declination. One, a young man, did so easily. The other, a middle-aged woman, was proceeding more cautiously.
Larry smiled. Ms. Aossey had never been particularly fleet of foot, even when she had been his home room and science teacher in eighth grade. And she was more careful now. Which, Larry conceded, only made good sense: a broken leg in the seventeenth century was nothing to take lightly, not even with Grantville's medical services available.
The young man with Ms. Aossey looked back to check her progress, putting out a helping hand. She accepted it with a brief, sunny smile. He returned a smaller one, complete with a nod that threatened to become a bow.
Larry's own smile was inward only. The understated politesse he had just witnessed was typical of twenty-year-old Karl Willibald Klemm. Larry had spotted the telltale signs of intentionally suppressed "good breeding" the moment the young fellow arrived in his office, having been referred there by Colonel Donovan of the Hibernian Mercenary Battalion.
Although admitting that he was originally from Ingolstadt, Klemm had not divulged the other details of his background so willingly. And Larry understood why as soon as the young Bavarian's story started leaking out. At fourteen years of age, Klemm had been recruited to play for the opposing—and losing—team in the Thirty Years' War. As a Catholic, Klemm explained that he'd been impressed into Tilly's forces in 1632, but not as a mercenary. He had been made a staff adjutant for a recently-promoted general of artillery. That general had not survived the battle against Gustav Adolf at Breitenfeld. At which point Klemm decided that his next destination would be any place that was as far away from the war as he could get to on foot.
Larry Quinn had been unable to repress a smile at the young man's careful retelling of the events surrounding his induction. Young Klemm had been "impressed" by Tilly's own sergeants at the age of fourteen, and then just happened to be assigned to a general of the artillery. Larry had wryly observed that this was not typical of the largely random acts of impressment whereby youths had been made to serve under the colors of both sides, usually as unglorified cannon-fodder.
Klemm had the admirable habit of staring his questioner straight in the eye when addressing a ticklish topic. No, Klemm admitted, he had not been randomly recruited. He had been plucked out of school by members of Tilly's own general staff.
And at what school had that occurred?
Again, Klemm had not batted an eye, but his jaw line became more pronounced when he revealed that he had been in classes at the University of Ingolstadt.
The rest of Larry's questions met with similarly direct, if terse answers. Yes, Klemm had been in his second year of studies at the tender age of fourteen. Yes, he had been in mathematics, but also the sciences and humanities. Yes, he supposed the work did come easily to him, since he was usually done before the most advanced students in each of his classes. Except in the humanities. But he somberly observed that this "failing" was because he often lacked the adult sensibilities to adequately unpack the layered meanings in most art. He had still been "just a boy" at school. Then, he had gone to war.
Tilly's "recruiters" had apparently been well-briefed by young Karl Klemm's predominantly Jesuit tutors. The youth not only had an extraordinarily sharp and flexible mind, but possessed what later researchers would call an "eidetic" memory. Larry doubted the existence of such savantlike powers, but was suitably impressed when Klemm scanned a paragraph, then a list of numbers, then a set of completely disparate facts, and was able to recall them perfectly afterwards.
Given the data-intensive nature of the artillery branch, it had been perhaps inevitable that Klemm had been assigned there. It had been the intent of his recruiters for him to function as a human calculator during sieges and other extended shelling scenarios. There, the ruthless laws of physics dictated results more profoundly than upon the fluid battlefields where human unpredictability, and even caprice, played a greater role in determining outcomes.
But that rear-echelon role hadn't kept Karl Klemm from seeing the full scope of horrors on display in the Thirty Years' War. Nor had it insulated him from the vicious attitudes of an increasing number of the Catholic troops. Not only were Tilly's men weary with war, they had been forced to forage from (then pillage, and ultimately sack) towns, both enemy and allied, for supplies. Predictably, with its ranks swollen by amoral and brutish mercenaries whom Klemm could hardly distinguish from highwaymen, the rank-and-file of Tilly's army was not receptive to a clever young fellow who was clearly the darling of the army's highest, aristocratic officers. The resentment and hate that the soldiers could not express toward those officers themselves was redirected toward this younger, more vulnerable object of their approbation. And so young Karl Klemm had learned to keep his head down and his gifts hidden.
He had approached the Hibernian Mercenary Battalion without referring to his background with the enemy's army or his unusual skills. Rather, he had heard they were looking for persons who might be handy at refurbishing broken up-time firearms. He had applied to become a mere technician. But one of the battalion's two proprietors, Liam Donovan, had the shrewd eye of a professional recruiter and saw much more than that in young Klemm. And so had sent him on to Larry's office.
That had been when Karl was thin, jobless, and shivering in a coat much too old to ward off the frigid fangs of the middle weeks of February. Now, three months later, in a riverside meadow, releasing Lolly Aossey's hand as if handing off a partner in a gavotte, he seemed a different person.
"Karl," Larry called.
"Yes, Major Quinn?"
"Has Ms. Aossey finished boring you today?"
Lolly rounded on Quinn, who was smiling mischief at her. "So I was a boring teacher, Larry?"
"Not usually, Miz Aossey, but let's face it: a fifty-minute lesson on earth science is now a reasonable replacement for the sleeping aids we left back up-time."
"Hmpf. Do you agree with Major Quinn, Karl?"
Klemm knelt to study the soil. "I cannot speak for anyone else, but I find geology rather fascinating."
_That's Karl, ever the diplomat._ Larry looked back at Lolly. "So why did you want to come down here from the hills?"
Lolly walked over to where Karl was strolling, now running his hands along the sheer skirts of the ridge as he studied the strata of its rocky ribs. "So that Karl could look at what surveyors and drillers would designate extremely soft 'unconsolidated formations.'"
"And what are those?"
Lolly turned to look at Klemm with one slightly raised eyebrow. Karl, seeing that as his cue, supplied the answer promptly. "An unconsolidated rock formation takes the form of loose particles, such as sand or clay."
"You mean, it's not really rock."
"No, Larry," scolded Lolly. "That's not what it means at all. Sand, for instance, starts out as solid rock."
"Like gravel."
Ms. Aossey nodded. "Exactly."
"So how is coming here better than going to a sand pit?"
"Because, Larry, a sand pit such as you mean is not a natural occurrence. And that's what Karl needs to see, to experience: the formations that arise naturally around such earths, and vice versa."
Karl brushed off his hands, put them on his narrow hips, looked at the rock thoughtfully, then at the ground. "And unless I am much mistaken, Ms. Aossey wishes me to become especially familiar with the compositions particular to alluvial or coastal deposits. The other two times we have gone on a field survey, we visited similar environments."
Lolly stared at Klemm. She said, "Very good, Karl," and clearly meant it, but there was also a surprised, even worried tone in her voice.
Quinn kept himself from smiling. The problem with training clever people for even highly compartmentalized confidential missions was that their quick wits could often defeat the information firewalls erected by the planners. From a few key pieces, they could begin to discern the shape, or at least the key objectives, of the operation.
Karl Klemm demonstrated that propensity in his next leading comment. "In fact, I find it puzzling that we are spending so much time in areas with these formations."
Lolly, who was inspecting some small outcroppings of marl that disturbed the smooth expanse beneath their feet, distractedly asked, "Why, Karl? They are good challenges for you: not always the easiest areas to read, geologically. They can be quite tricky unless you know what to look for."
"So you have taught me. And very well, Ms. Aossey. But that still begs the question of why we are studying them at all."
Lolly stopped, a bit perplexed. Quinn now had to hide a small smile. He was no geologist, but he had learned to read people pretty well, and he could see where Karl Klemm was headed. Lolly didn't, apparently. "We study them because they are some of the formations you might encounter when you travel with Major Quinn to the New World."
"Yes, I might. But it seems odd to focus so heavily on these formations, since I will not be expected to survey them closely, let alone exclusively." Karl poked at an upthrust tooth of marlstone. "Or will I?"
Lolly shot a surprised and alarmed glance at Quinn, a glance which said: _Oh. My. God. Could he have guessed where_ exactly _you're taking him? And why? And if that cat is out of the bag, does he have to be sequestered until you leave?_
Quinn simply shrugged.
Lolly Aossey crossed her arms tightly. "Well, Karl, you never know where people might want to dig. Or for what."
"That is true, although one immediately thinks of the New World's coastal oil deposits. However, it does not stand to reason that the USE would be interested in those, or any, oil deposits known to reside in unconsolidated rock formations."
"And why is that?"
"Because we cannot tap such deposits, not with our current drilling technology. A cable rig will not work. The constant pounding collapses the walls of the hole. To drill in soils such as these, which in the New World predominate around the Gulf coast oil deposits, you would need a rotary drill. A technology which we do not yet possess." He looked up from the marlstone. "I am correct in my conclusions, yes?" He did not blink.
Quinn watched and heard Lolly swallow. Looking like an adolescent who'd been caught telling a lie to her parents, she spread her hands in gesture that marked her next utterance as both an explanation and appeal. "Well, Karl, now about that rotary drill—"
**_Undisclosed location near Wietze, USE_**
Ann Koudsi finished her morning cup of broth—it had been unseasonably chilly overnight—and nosed back into her books and progress charts again. As the second in charge of the rotary drill test rig, and ultimately, the superintendent who would be responsible for the new machine and its crew in the field, it was her job to be The Final Authority on all things pertaining to its operation. That, in turn, meant minor or full mastery of a wide range of topics, including practical geology, mechanical engineering, the physics of pressurized fluids and gases, and even organizational management. To name but a few.
So it was not merely frustrating but alarming and infuriating when, once again, concentration on the words, and charts, and formulae did not come easily. Indeed, she discovered that she had been reading the same line about assessing imminent well-head failures because, instead of seeing it, she was seeing something else in her mind's eye:
Ulrich Rohrbach, down-time crew chief for the rig.
Which was not just foolishness, but utter, stupid, and dangerous foolishness. As she had kept telling herself over the last nine months. It was foolishness to allow him to court her at all. Foolish that they had started taking all their meals together. Foolish that they had spent Christmas visiting what was left of his war-torn family: a widowed sister and her two perilously adorable kids. More foolish still when they had started holding hands just before Valentine's Day, a mostly up-time tradition which he had somehow learned of (Ann secretly suspected their mutual boss, Dave Willcocks, of playing matchmaker). And most foolish of all had been their first kiss as they were laughing beneath the Maypole just weeks ago.
And there were so many reasons _why_ it was all extraordinarily foolish. First, Ulrich was a down-timer, albeit a perfect gentleman and more patient than any up-time American would have been in regard to the glacial progress of their relationship. It was foolish because Ulrich barely had a fourth grade education, although, truth be told, his reading had become much faster and broader in the past half year and revealed that his mind was not slow, merely starved. And it was foolish because he just didn't look the way she had imagined the man of her dreams would look: he was not tall, dark, or particularly handsome. But on the other hand, he had kind eyes, thick sandy hair, dimples, a wonderful bass laugh, and a surprisingly muscular build, which, compacted into his sturdy 5'8" frame, would have put any number of up-time body-builders to shame.
And what had been especially foolish about their first kiss was her own response: not merely eager, but starved. She had absolutely embarrassed herself. And why? Because, as she learned when she started flipping backward through the months on her mental calendar, it had been at least—well, it had been a long, long, _long_ time since she had had sex.
So all right, maybe her physical reaction—her _over_ reaction, she firmly reminded herself—to the kiss had been understandable. But Ulrich wasn't likely to understand it. Or, more problematically, he was all too likely to understand it the wrong way: that her sudden avid response had been to _him_ , personally, rather than to his, er, generic maleness. And so how would she explain that to him so that he wouldn't get more attached or more hopeful?
_Are you sure that's really what you want to do?_ said a voice at the back of her mind, the one that had been growing steadily louder and more ironic for the past three weeks.
Her response was indignant and maybe a little bit terrified. Of course she wanted to let Ulrich know that she wasn't interested in him, _per se_. She had work, _important_ work, to do. And after all, where could a relationship with him wind up?
_Well, let's see,_ said the voice, _it could start in bed, then move to a house, which would quickly acquire some small, additional inhabitants—_
Ann Koudsi stood up quickly, her stomach suddenly very compact and hard. She did not want to get married to a down-timer. No matter how nice, or how good-natured, or how gentlemanly—or how damnedly sexy—he was. It wouldn't end well.
_Right,_ agreed the grinning voice, _because it wouldn't end at all. Just like it hasn't ended for the hundreds of other up-time-down-time marriages that have occurred over the past few years._
She paced to the bookshelf to get a book she didn't need, opened it, furiously thumbing through the index for she had no idea what.
_Unless_ , said the voice, _what it's really about is home._
Ann stopped thumbing the pages, forgot she was holding the book.
_Yes, that's it, isn't it? If you marry a down-timer, it's the final act of acceptance that you're here in the past for good. That so much of your family, so many of your friends and almost everything else you ever knew and loved, is gone like that awful song said: dust in the wind. You won't embrace anyone in this world because you won't let go of the people in the_ other _world._
Ann discovered she had clutched the book close to her chest, could feel her heart beating with a crisp, painful precision.
_But here's the problem, girl: you can't hold on to what isn't there, what no longer exists. And if you wait too long, if you push Ulrich away too hard, you just might lose the best thing—the best man—you've ever laid eyes on in this world or the—_
A distinctive metallic cough broke the stillness of the remote, steep-sided glen in which they had set up their test rig. Ann looked up, disoriented and startled. That was the drilling rig's engine, starting to run at full speed. But today's test run had been cancelled—
Then she detected an almost subaudible hum: the rig's turntable was spinning at operating RPMs.
Ann dropped the book and was out the door, sprinting for the drill site, which was located in a dead-end defile a quarter mile away. There was no fire-bell or even dinner-gong to ring to get them to stop, because other than the three cabins for the workers and the one for the senior site engineer—her—there was no one else nearby. And nothing with which to make alarm-level noise. "No reason to attract undue attention," Professor Doctor Wecke of the Mines and Drilling Program of the University of Helmstedt had explained coyly to her when she had accepted the position. She had wondered at the isolation of the site and then wondered if Wecke's caution about gongs and the like wasn't a bit ridiculous. Why worry about noisemaking bells when you spent most of the day running a loud, crude, experimental rotary drilling rig?
As she ran, Ann saw the expected plume of steam from the rig's engine obscuring the black cloud of its wood-fired boiler, and glimpsed a small figure well ahead of her, also running toward the drill site. That figure was moving very quickly and angling in from the main access road that led off to the rig's supply and service sheds. Then she saw its gray-dyed down-time coveralls. Distinct from the typical brown ones of the rank and file workers, that could only be Ulrich. He must have heard the engine start, too. Had probably been in the materials depot, checking the quality of the new casing before it went in the hole to shore up the soft, unconsolidated walls that would be left behind by the next day's digging.
_The_ next _day's digging:_ that deferral to tomorrow had not been merely advisable, but essential. Today's run _had_ to be called off because too many of the main crew, the veterans, were down with the flu. It was one of those brief but vicious late spring bugs that spreads like wildfire, burns through a body by setting both brow and guts on fire (albeit in different ways), and then burns out just as quickly. Even old tough-as-leather Dave Willcocks, head of the rotary drill development team and liaison to the academics and financiers back at the University of Helmstedt, had fallen victim to the virus. Which was a source of some extra concern at the site and beyond: this was the first sign that Willcocks was anything other than indestructible, and at seventy years of age, there was no knowing if this was just an aberration in his otherwise unexceptioned robust health, or the first sign of impending decline. Ann had seen, all too often and too arrestingly, that people aged more quickly in the seventeenth century, and the transition from good health to decrepitude could, on occasion, be startlingly swift.
Ulrich had reached the rig, seemed to dart around looking for something. Or someone, Ann corrected. He was clearly trying to find who was in charge, who had overridden today's suspension of operations.
From far behind her private cabin, Ann heard another engine kick into life with a roar. That was an up-time sound, the engine on Dave Willcock's pick-up truck. Good, so that meant he was on his way. Ann didn't like that he was up and about, but right now, her strongest sensation was relief. No one back-talked Willcocks. His word was law on site, and that was what was needed to shut down the rig without a moment's delay. Without Dave or Ulrich or her there to oversee the commencement of operations, there was no telling what errors might be made.
Ulrich had reached the platform upon which the derrick was built. Now only a hundred yards off—but with a wind-stitch suddenly clutching at her left side—Ann could see him engaged in a shouting match with someone up there. Someone very tall and very lean and very blond, almost white blond—
_Oh shit,_ Ann thought, _he's arguing with Otto Bauernfeld._ Bauernfeld was the senior overseer for Gerhard Graves, who was the nosiest and most intrusive of all the investors. Imperious and contemptuous both, the Graves family had tried double-crossing David Willcocks and his associates when they undertook their first joint drilling project, a simple cable rig. So this time, Willcocks, his team, and now the university, had unanimously wanted to reject Graves' money—but they simply couldn't afford to. The project would not have been possible without Gerhard Graves carrying twenty percent of the upfront costs. And Otto Bauernfeld, as Graves' visiting factotum, had adopted an attitude to match his master's: presumptuous, dictatorial, and arrogantly dismissive of the rank-and-file workers. "Shit," Ann repeated. Aloud, this time.
She sprinted the last thirty yards to the gravel-ringed drill site, earning stares as she went. Pebbles churned underfoot, slowing her down, but she was able to catch the shouted exchange between Ulrich and Otto Bauernfeld as she traversed the last few yards of loose stone.
"You must shut the rig down, Herr Bauernfeld. Mr. Willcocks has ordered us not to drill today, not even to—"
Bauernfeld looked far down his very long nose at the medium-sized but very powerful Ulrich. "Who are you, and why should I care?"
"I am Ulrich Rohrbach, the site foreman and design consultant. I must ask you to—"
"I do not take orders from you, workman. Now, do not obstruct me any further."
"Herr Bauernfeld, I must insist: on whose authority do you ignore and violate Project Director David Willcocks' strict prohibition against drilling today?"
"I ignore it based on the only authority that truly matters on this site: that stemming from my patron's heavy investment in this project. Which you should understand. I am here for one day—one day, and no more—and must see the progress you have made in developing this drill. My superior expects an impartial report, and he shall have it."
"Herr Bauernfeld, with a little warning, I could have—"
"You are a worker. And an employee of Herr Willcocks. Who will be pleased to tell me whatever he thinks will please my employer. But Herr Graves wants the truth and I know how to get it for him." Bauernfeld stuck this thumbs into his belt and leaned back, quite pleased with himself. "It was simply a matter of getting the crew to run the drill without your interference. Which they did readily enough, when I told them who my superior was, and the personal consequences they would face if they displeased him. So, now I shall see the operation as it truly is, and with my own eyes."
"You are not seeing the operation," Ann panted.
Bauernfeld halted as she gasped for breath, and then doubled over to ease the cramp in her gut. Still looking up, she could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the waver in his demeanor as he tried to decide where she fit into his complex constellation of class and professional relationships. A woman of no particular birth, but an up-timer: a person who actually worked alongside laborers, but also a person of considerable achievement and education. There were no ready social equations that defined her place in his social scheme of things.
But then his eyes strayed to her clothes: grimy, practical coveralls, gray like Ulrich's. Something like a satisfied smile settled about Bauernfeld's eyes. "Frau Koudsi, the rig's motors are running and the drill-string has been lowered. And now—see? It is turning: the drilling has begun. So I am most certainly seeing the operations of your drill."
"Proper operations involve more than turning on the machines." Ulrich's voice was so guttural that he sounded more animal than human.
Bauernfeld speared him with eyes that suggested he would have preferred to respond with the back of his hand instead of his tongue. "Your workers know the steps well enough, I perceive."
"You perceive wrong, then, you ass." Ann felt herself rising on her toes to make her rebuttal emphatic. "These aren't our first crew. Almost all of them are second crew. Replacements who usually carry gear, clean the facility. They're like apprentices at this stage."
Bauernfeld became a bit pale. "And the—the journeymen, or 'first crew,' as you say?"
Ulrich waved an arm angrily back at the workers' sheds. "Back there. In bed. Sick with the same flu that has Herr Willcocks in bed, and why we shut down operations today."
Bauernfeld was now truly pale. "But . . . all seems to be in order. These men know their tasks."
"Do they?" shrieked Ann over the motor and the drill, wondering how long they had to convince Bauernfeld to tell the class-cowed workers shut the rig down—or how long it would take for Dave Willcocks to drive down here, if he wouldn't listen to reason. "Did you flush the mud hose? Did you check its flexibility? Did you check where it connects to the kelly for signs of wear or fraying? Did you turn the drill in the hole long enough to warm the mud already there _before_ putting weight on the bit? And did you warm the new mud in the tanks before pumping it in?"
Bauernfeld scowled at the last. "And how could the temperature of mud possibly matter?"
Ann pointed behind her at the mud-tank. " _That_ mud is being pumped down in that hole, Herr Bauernfeld. At extremely high pressure. Among other things, it scoops up the shavings—the debris made by the drilling—and dumps it there, in the shaker tray, where the debris is removed and the mud is returned to the system."
With uncertain eyes, Bauernfeld followed the progress of her pointing: from mud pit, to mud tube, to where it connected to the swivel atop the drill string, to where the return tube dumped the fouled mud into the shaker tray. "And to do this," he said slowly, "the mud must be warm?"
Ulrich leaned in, face red, voice loud with both urgency and anger. "No, but it cannot be _cold_."
"But why?"
Ann rolled her eyes. _Can Bauernfeld really be so stupid? Well, he might be._ "Look, you sit down to breakfast and get thin, hot porridge. How easy can you pour it into your bowl?"
Bauernfeld shrugged. "Easily enough."
"Right. Now let it get cold. Try pouring it."
Bauernfeld's eyebrows lowered, but then rose quickly. "It is thicker. It will be harder to—"
"Exactly, and that's why the mud can't be too cold. But last night we had a hard frost, and the men running the drill haven't dealt with this. They don't know how the resistance builds, particularly with the shavings collecting because the thicker mud can't clear them quickly enough. They have no idea what that could do to—"
Ann heard a faint groan in the mud-carrying standpipe where it ascended the nearest leg of the derrick. "Uh oh," she breathed and looked up at the swivel.
Ulrich was already staring at it but with a surprised expression. "Looks like the swivel coupling is holding," he breathed. Carefully.
Ann nodded, was aware of Bauernfeld's confused gape. He followed their eyes, but did not know what to look at. Which in this case was the swivel atop the spinning drill string. That had been the most problematic piece of machinery to make reliable and robust. Not the swivel itself—that was a fairly straightforward fabrication job—but where the flexible mud hose connected to it.
While the hose did not fully "spin" with the swivel, there was a lot of random and varying motion imparted to it as the drill string sped up, slowed down, encountered resistance, spun free. In short, the linkage between hose and swivel had to be both strong and flexible.
And that was a difficult requirement for seventeenth-century materials. There was no rubber available, yet. That would involve tapping New World trees en masse or growing them elsewhere. And synthetics were a pipe dream, an up-time reality that was now a distant fantasy. So they made do with leather. Layered with canvas. Stitched carefully. Reinforced by brass rivets and clamps, where feasible. And at the connecting collar, where the changes in pressure and torque were most intense, precious (which was to say "retooled up-time") steel rings added extra reinforcement.
And so far, despite the rapid spin-up and overly thick mud, the epicenter of their engineering headaches and operational worries was holding up. Ann felt a smile try to rise to her lips. _Heh, progress at last—_
But that impulse did not last longer than the eyeblink which refocused her on the very real dangers of continuing operations. So the mud hose's linkage to the swivel was good: so what? The mud was too cold, meaning there were about a dozen other failure points that could be potentially—
The groan in the standpipe returned as a loud surging wail and the whole tube began shuddering, the oscillations racing up its gantry-ascending length.
Ann turned to the engine operator, prepared to talk him through the spin-down instructions—
But Bauernfeld had gone completely pale, discerning in the combination of her desperate motions and the quaking of the standpipe, that he was standing right next to an impending disaster. "Shut it off!" he screamed at the engine operator, "Turn the engine off! Stop the drill string!"
" _NO!_ " Ann and Ulrich howled together. But it was too late.
The disaster was already unleashing itself when Bauernfeld shouted his crude, and therefore counterproductive, orders. The standpipe, shaking mightily, now put pressure on a connection which had never been a major point of design concern: that point where it joined to the mud-hose, which hung free between the gantry leg and the swivel atop the drill string. However, since that hose was more rigidly affixed to its point of connection with the standpipe, the excessive pressure in the system now made it shudder violently. At the very fringe of where it met the pipe's connecting collar, a brass rivet popped, a seam opened—
"Run!" Ann shouted. "Clear the rig!" And then she felt a blow on her back. The air was driven out of her, and she was flying—but being carried, too. The momentary disorientation became realization: Ulrich had tackled her off the platform. And a powerful emotion rose up to meet that realization. _I love him. I do! I know that now. But this is going to hurt. And we could still die. Very easily._ And yet, her eyes never left the rig.
With a screaming pop of suddenly released pressure, the mud hose stripped itself off the top of the standpipe, flinging the attachment collar high into the air. Freed, the hose's sudden wild writhings resembled the overdose-death throes of a mud-vomiting anaconda. One worker, among the youngest, staring openmouthed at the sudden spectacle before him, did not move in time. The hose spasmed through a vicious twist and cut him open from chest to navel, viscera flying in all directions. Almost bisected, he was dead before he hit the ground.
The wild whipping and slashing caught two more persons. Bauernfeld himself managed to dodge the hose, but his left hip and groin were caught in the spray pattern of the mud. Although quickly losing pressure, that viscous jet was still spewing with a force well above one hundred PSI. Bauernfeld went down with a warbling shriek of pain and surprise, white bone showing through a wash of blood and shattered intestines—less than two seconds after he had shouted his final orders.
Those orders now went into full, monstrous effect. The partially trained rig operator not only cut the engine, but, hearing Bauernfeld's "stop" order, had thrown the long lever that engaged a large, counterweighted arresting gear.
The effect on the drill-string was dramatic. With many tons of pipe already spinning in the three hundred foot hole, there was simply no way to, as Ann's mother used to say, "stand on the brakes." Instead, the arrestor groaned, its cable snapped, and the counterweights were launched sideways, one smashing down a nearby utility shed, the other tracing a ballistic arc into the side of the ravine.
But, even though it was brief, that sudden, strong resistance at the head of the drill pipe forced a rapid drop in rotational speed of its uppermost lengths. However, the much weightier part of the entire drill string assembly was still turning in the hole, its massive inertia being what had quickly shattered the braking mechanism, which had only been designed to gradually slow, not immediately stop, the string.
Now, the differences in inertia and resistance at the two ends of the drill string simply tore it apart. The threaded ends which joined the top pipe in the hole with length that was still free-spinning above it screeched and gave way in a shower of sparks. The lower length of pipe, grinding shrilly against the sides of the borehole, slowed quickly, but its single sweep smashed everything in its path. The upper length, no longer anchored on the bottom, swung wide and fast, ripping free of the kelly and swivel. It spun away like a side-slung baton, clipping the northernmost leg of the derrick, and swatting three workers aside like so many inconsequential—and now quite shattered—flies. The combined kelly-and-swivel assembly swung around like a misshapen bolo, cracked through two gantry struts and spent the rest of its energy by slamming full on into yet another of the derrick's legs.
Showered by the mud spewing up from the shattered standpipe, Ann swung to her feet, blinking—when Ulrich retightened his arm around her waist and started running away—
—Away from the groaning, tilting, unraveling derrick that pushed slowly down through the curtain of mud as it toppled toward them.
Ann got her own feet under her somehow and, with Ulrich now pulling her by the hand, they sprinted away. This time, Ann did not look back.
She heard the smash, felt the ground shiver a moment before the slight concussive wave of the impact buffeted her back. Splinters, whining like darts, bit into her right thigh and buttock. She only ran harder.
Which was just as well. More debris, ejected upward, came down in a lethal torrent where she had been running just two seconds before.
A pulley, rolling on its edge, wheeled past her briskly, lagged when it reached the gravel perimeter of the site, wobbled lazily and fell over. As if that was a signal to Ann and Ulrich that the danger was indeed past, they turned, still holding hands.
The rig was gone. Except for four feet of the drill pipe that had sheared off while partially in the bore hole and two feet of savaged standpipe that had not gone over with the derrick, nothing was left standing upright on the platform. The steam engine had been ruined by debris, its boiler knocked over and the firebox already flaring dangerously. Mud oozed outward and downward in all directions. Smoke—black, brown, and gray—fanned upward into the sky. The workers who had cleared the rig in time were already being joined by members of the sickly "first crew," who, wan and haggard, spread out through the wreckage with them, searching for survivors.
Behind them, brakes screeched, gravel spattered, and a car door opened. A moment later, Dave Willcocks, looking haggard and pale, was standing alongside them, staring at the ruin that had been their grand experiment. "Jesus Christ," he swore. But he didn't stare at the wreckage for more than a few seconds before heading toward the disaster to assist in the rescue work, just a few steps behind Ann and Ulrich.
The time that followed was without a doubt the most gruesome experience in Ann's life. The scale of the blunt force trauma inflicted on fragile human bodies by the disintegrating oil rig was genuinely incredible. It was as if the gods of the earth, awakened and risen in fury, had just torn people apart.
She couldn't even find any flicker of vengeful satisfaction in Bauernfeld's fate, although he'd been directly responsible for the disaster. The wound that had killed him was . . . horrible, a perfect illustration of the old saw _I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy._
Eventually—thankfully—the immediate rescue work was over. Those who'd survived had been stabilized and had been taken away to receive real medical care. Repairing the property damage would take a lot longer, but there was no immediate urgency involved. So, tired and blood-spackled themselves, Ann and Ulrich and Dave Willcocks came back together to discuss the situation.
"I heard about Bauernfeld coming here," said Willcocks. "Got the message from your runner, Ulrich, the same moment I heard the rig start. His doing, I take it?"
Ann looked out of the corner of her eye. Ulrich frowned at David Willcocks' question, looked away, clearly trying to fabricate a face-saving story for a man who was now dead. An incompetent, arrogant man whom Ulrich would probably now risk his own good reputation to protect.
Ann turned and looked Willcocks in the eye. "Yes, this was Bauernfeld's doing. All so he could make a report to Gerhard Graves without any input or 'interference' from us." She turned her eyes back to the smoking ruins. "I'd say his methods were ill-considered."
Another car door opened and closed behind them. Footsteps rasped on the gravel, and then Dennis Grady, head of contractors for the State of Thuringia-Franconia's Department of Economic Resources, their project's other fiscal godfather, came to stand beside Ulrich.
Ann started. "Mr. Grady, what are you doing up here?"
He looked away from the devastation with a baleful expression. "Why, to check on your progress."
Ann—broken-hearted but also quite suddenly aware that not only was she in love with Ulrich, but had been for almost three months now—felt conflicting emotions of joy and loss roil and bash into each other. They came out of her as a burst of laughter. "Our progress! Wow, did you pick the wrong day for a visit, or what?"
Grady shrugged. "Machines can be rebuilt, if they're worth rebuilding."
Grady's serious, level tone was like a bucket of cold water in Ann's face. _So this isn't the end of all our work, maybe?_ "And what determines if they're worth rebuilding?"
"Well, how was the rig doing before this happened?"
"That is the irony of this disaster, Herr Grady," Ulrich sighed. "Tomorrow, we were scheduled to get to four hundred feet. And the equipment had been working quite well. We had to be careful not to push the system too much. The mud flow cannot keep up with our top operating speeds."
"Why?"
Ann thought Dave Willcocks might explain, but instead he nodded at her to continue, smiling like a proud uncle. She shrugged, answered, "The rate that we get fresh mud in the hole determines how much we can cool the system. It bathes the hot drill bit, removes extra friction by carrying away the cuttings. But the mud hose is the bottleneck. We can't push the pressure in the hose over two hundred fifty psi without risking a rupture. That reduces how much we can cool the system, and how fast we can clear cuttings out of the hole. And that determines our upper operating limit."
"But if you stay beneath that limit—?"
"We were making good progress, and this design was holding up pretty well."
"We still have challenges," Willcocks put in. "We've got to have better threading between the separate sections of drill pipe. And I'm not sure that we've got enough horsepower from the current steam engine to really do the job when we get under six hundred feet."
"But in principle, this design is functional?"
"Functional, yes. Ready to drill, no."
Grady shook his head. "But I didn't ask you about readiness."
David frowned. "Two months ago you did."
Grady shrugged. "That was two months ago. Things change."
"Like what?"
"Like never you mind. Look, it was always a long-shot that you'd have a rotary drill ready for the New World survey expedition, anyhow. And as things are developing, we won't need it until next year, probably. By which time, I expect it will be ready." Grady glanced at the smoldering ruin, through which rescuers were picking their careful ways. "Well, _this_ one won't be ready, but you get what I mean."
Ann almost smiled, but it felt wrong, somehow. "Thanks, Dennis. I wish I could be happier. But we've lost so much: so many people, so much hard work, and a chance to set foot in North America again."
"Oh, now hold on," said Grady. "Just because you won't have a rotary drill, doesn't mean you're not still going along for the ride to the New World. We need your scientific and technical skills on site, and there _are_ drills besides your rotary wonder, you know."
Ann shrugged. "I ought to know. We were working cable rigs at Wietze for the better part of two years."
"And you'll be working them again, half a world away."
Ulrich looked flustered, possibly heart-broken. "So then, if Ms. Koudsi is—is gone, who shall resume building the rotary drill?"
David kicked at the gravel. "I guess that would be me and the technical assistants that have been helping you out here. And I could bring up Glen Sterling from Grantville. And actually, we did learn something important about the drill design today: that the weak point is no longer at the juncture of the swivel and the mud hose, but at the juncture of the mud-hose and the standpipe."
"So how much time do I have to help David with the improved model before I leave?" Ann asked Dennis, while looking at Ulrich.
"None, I'm afraid," answered Grady. "We've got to get you up north for special training and equipment familiarization. Besides, there's not going to be much breakthrough engineering going on for a few months. I figure it will take that long just to get all the drill pipe and casing out of the ground." He looked at David for confirmation.
Willcocks nodded. "Gonna be a bitch of a job. But it will be our golden opportunity to own the next rig outright, without worrying about financiers."
Grady frowned. "Oh? How's that?"
"Herr Graves' representative caused this failure. Every surviving witness will testify to that. And from what Herr Bauernfeld told me on the way down here, he had papers in his bags indicating that he has a 'clear mandate from his employer' to ensure that he saw the rig in operation without me or any of my supervisors around to meddle with it. I told him that wasn't permissible. Sent a letter to his boss on the topic, too.
"But he disregarded multiple direct orders from the lawful site operators and majority owners, and went ahead with his 'private test.' So he and his employer are directly culpable for all this—the loss of life, the loss of the rig, and the expense of recovering all that pipe and casing, since it's too rare and costly to leave sitting in the ground." David's grin was one of savage revenge, not mirth. "It's going to cost that bastard Graves his stake in this whole operation to be able to walk away from this disaster without getting roasted alive by the courts."
Grady nodded. "Yep. Sounds about right." He turned to Ann. "Now, are you ready to pack your bags and head north to the Baltic?"
"I am," answered Ann, "But on one condition."
Grady raised an eyebrow. "And what's that?"
"That I get to choose my crew chief." She turned to Ulrich and smiled. "That would be Ulrich Rohrbach. If he doesn't go, it's no deal."
Ulrich stared at Ann, smiling back, his mouth open a little, jaw working futilely to find words—but not very hard. He was too busy looking at her, Ann was delighted to see, like an infatuated puppy.
Grady cleared his throat. "Well, Mr. Rohrbach, how about it? Are you also willing to go to the New World and drill for oil without a rotary rig?"
Ulrich did not look away from Ann or even blink. "Where do I sign up?" he said.
**_Luebeck, United States of Europe_**
Nodding to the after-hours Marine guard, Eddie entered the antechamber outside John Simpson's office. As he did, his stomach growled so loudly that he expected a Marine to enter behind him, sidearm drawn, scanning for whatever feral beast was making a noise akin to being simultaneously tortured and strangled.
And if being two hours overdue for supper wasn't enough, he'd just received yet another letter from Anne Cathrine. It was alternately sweet, steamy, and sullen at having to spend her nights watching her father pickle his royal brain with excesses of wine. She made it emphatically—indeed, graphically clear—just how much, and in what ways, she'd rather be spending those nights with Eddie, indulging in excesses of—
_Nope, don't go there, Eddie. You have a job to do, which doesn't include learning to walk with a stiff prosthetic leg and an equally stiff—_
The door opened. "Commander, there you are," said Simpson.
_Yes, here I very much am. A bit too much of me, in fact._ Eddie cheated the folders he was carrying a few inches lower, shielding his groin from ready view. However, nothing slackened his line quite so quickly or profoundly as hearing the CO's voice, so he was safe by the time he had entered the room and saluted.
As soon as Simpson had returned the salute and invited him to sit, Eddie produced one of the folders—rough, ragged cardboard stock of the down-time "economy" variety—with a black square on the upper right-hand front flap. "News from the rotary drill project."
"Not good?"
"Disastrous, sir. The rig literally blew apart. But it wasn't a technical failure. One of the owners' inexperienced factors decided to show up for a surprise inspection and start the morning by playing platform chief."
"And how did that turn out?"
"Five dead, six wounded. The rig is a write-off. They're still trying to fish all the drill pipe out of the hole."
Simpson may have winced. "Well, so much for the overly ambitious hope that they'd have that drill working by the time we left, and be boring holes by fall."
"Yes, sir. But the Department of Economic Resources still wants to send the mainland prospecting team with our task force."
Simpson shrugged. "Well, that only makes sense, assuming the test rig was reasonably promising. That way, by the time they get a working rig ready, they'll know where to start drilling well holes."
"That's the ER Department's thinking on the matter, sir. They've shifted all the actual drilling crew and operators over to the Trinidad cable rig team."
"Which is just as well. That oil will be a lot easier to find."
"Yes sir, although there's a whole lot less of it."
Simpson looked up from the paperwork. "Commander, let's not go round on this again. First, Trinidad's oil will come to hand comparatively easily and it is sweet and light. Just what we need. And we're not equipped to ship more oil than they can produce, won't be for at least eighteen months. Second, and arguably more important, Trinidad has an additional strategic benefit of pulling our rivals' attentions away from our other operations."
Eddie knew it was time to offer his dutiful "Yes, sir"—which he did—and to move on. "All the regionally relevant maps, charts, graphs, and books that will comprise the mission's reference assets have been copied and are en route from Grantville. We still have two researchers combing through unindexed material for other useful information on the Caribbean, but it's been ten days since they found anything. And that was just some data on a species of flower."
"Hmmph. I suspect the focus in the Leeward Islands will be on agriculture, not horticulture."
"Yes, sir." Which was typical Simpson: he was the one who had insisted on extracting every iota of up-time information available on the West Indies, Spanish Main, and environs. And now he was turning his nose up at the tid-bits he had insisted on pursuing. _I suspect he's going to be a very cranky old man. Well, crankier._
"Did you find any more data on native dialects in the Gulf region?"
Eddie shook his head. "No, sir." All they had turned up were a few snippets of a local dialect alternately referred to as Atakapa or Ishak. And those snippets were so uncertain, they would be better described as "second-hand linguistic rumors" than "data."
"Provisioning and materiel almost ready?"
"Getting there, sir. Without the rotary drill equipment and pipe, we'll have a lot more room than we thought. But we're still taking on plenty of well casing for Trinidad. Each section is about the length, weight, and even girth of pine logs. So we got a lumber ship from the Danes to haul it."
Simpson frowned. "'Lumber ship?'"
"Yes, sir. Their sterns are modified. In place of the great cabin, they have an aft-access cargo bay, so the logs can be loaded straight in through the transom. Sort of like stacking rolls of carpet in the back of your van."
"Military stores?"
"Almost all are on site now, sir. We're still waiting on the molds and casts for the dual-use eight-inch shells. Which are working well in both the carronades and the long guns. All our radios are tested and in place, as is the land-station equipment. And the special-order spyglasses came in two days ago and passed the QC inspection."
"And the local binoculars?"
"There's an update on that in this morning's files, sir. The Dutch lens makers have demonstrated an acceptable working model to our acquisitions officer, but they haven't worked out a production method inexpensive enough for us to afford multiple purchases for each ship. My guess is that they'll have the bottlenecks licked by this time next year."
Simpson made a noise that sounded startlingly similar to a guard-dog's irritated growl. "Another key technology for which appropriations were not approved. Like the mitrailleuses."
Eddie sat up straight, genuinely alarmed. "Sir? They're not—not going to approve any mitrailleuses for the steamships? Why, that's—"
"Insane? Well, as it turns out, the Department of Economic Resources is not completely insane. Only half insane. Which is, in some ways, worse."
Eddie shook his head. "Sir, I don't understand: _half_ insane?"
"Speaking in strictly quantitative terms, yes: half insane. Instead of approving one mitrailleuse for each quarter of the ship, they've approved exactly half that amount."
Eddie goggled. "A . . . a _half_ a mitrailleuse for each quarter of the ship?" He tugged at his ginger-red forelock, doing the math and coming up with a mental diagram. "So only two? One on the forward port bow, the other on the starboard aft quarter?"
Simpson nodded. "That's about the shape of what the wiser heads in Grantville have envisioned." His voice was level and unemotional, but Eddie saw the sympathy in his eyes.
"But sir, how do you defend a ship against an all-point close assault with only two automatic weapons? If they come all around you in small boats—"
"Which they probably won't. As the holders of the purse strings were pleased to point out, yours is only a reconnaissance mission. So to speak. And you have no business going in harm's way, particularly at such close quarters. But if fate proves to take the unprecedented step of deciding to ignore all our reasonable expectations and plans"—Simpson's bitter, ironic grin made Eddie's stomach sink—"well, I just cut an order to Hockenjoss and Klott for a special antiboarding weapon. Two per ship, to take the place of the two missing mitrailleuses."
"Well, sir, I suppose that's better than nothing," Eddie allowed. And silently added, _but not by much, I bet._
Simpson shrugged. "Certainly nothing very fancy or very complicated. Essentially I've asked them to build a pintle-mounted two-inch shotgun. Black powder breechloader. It's already picked up a nickname: the Big Shot. It should help against boarders." He must have read the dismay in Eddie's face. "I know what you're thinking, Commander. That such a weapon will be useless against the small boats themselves. That was my first reaction, which the committee has now heard repeatedly and, on a few occasions, profanely. I'll keep fighting for the full mitrailleuse appropriation, but I think I'm going to have to spend all my clout just getting percussion locks standardized for the main guns."
Eddie nodded. "Yes, sir. Which is of course where your clout belongs. Those tubes are carrying the primary weight of our mission."
"Well said, Commander. And if you find yourself in a tight spot—well, to borrow a phrase from another service, improvise and overcome."
Eddie tried to be jocular, but could hear how hollow it sounded when he replied, "Oo-rah, sir."
Eddie's failed attempt at gallows humor seemed to summon a spasm of guilt to the admiral's face. It reminded Eddie of one of his father's post-binge reflux episodes. "It's bad enough that we're not getting all the resources we were promised, but having delayed your departure to wait for them was a bad decision. My bad decision. I should have insisted on keeping the mission lighter and going sooner. That would have given you more time in the Caribbean before hurricane season, less of a squadron to oversee—and fewer hangers-on, I might add."
Eddie shrugged. "Sir, your gamble to wait and get us more goodies may not have panned out, but that's in the nature of gambling, wouldn't you agree? If you had been right, we'd be leaving here with more combat power, and a mission which would have represented a much more complete test of the ships and systems you're planning to shift into standard production. And if the rotary drill had been ready, the cash back on the venture—and the need to rapidly expand our maritime capacity to capitalize on it—would have given you all the clout you needed for what you want. All the clout and more, I should say."
Simpson looked at Eddie squarely. The younger man wondered if that calm gaze was what the admiral's version of gratitude looked like. "You have a generous and forgiving spirit, Commander. I'm not sure I'd be so magnanimous, in your place. After all, it's not just you who now has less combat power, less time before the heavy weather sets in, and more official requirements added on while your departure was delayed. Your wife is now subject to the same vulnerabilities, too."
Eddie nodded. "And don't I know it, sir."
Simpson actually released a small smile. "You sound less than overjoyed to have your wife along for the ride, Commander. Not SOP for a newlywed."
"Sir, with all due respect, none of this is SOP for a newlywed. Am I glad that I won't spend a whole half year away from my beautiful wife? You bet. Does it make me crazy anxious that she, and her quasi-entourage, are heading into danger along with me? You bet. The latter kind of diminishes the, uh . . . hormonal happiness caused by the former."
Simpson chuckled. "You are developing a true gift for words, Commander. If I could spare you from the field, I'd make you our chief diplomatic liaison."
"Sir! It's unbecoming a senior officer to threaten his subordinates. I'll take cannon fire over cocktail parties any day!"
Simpson glanced down toward Eddie's false foot. "And this from a man who should know better."
"Sir, I do know better. I've experienced both, and I'll take the cannons."
"Why?"
"Permission to speak freely?"
"Granted."
"Because, sir, battles are short and all business, and cocktail parties are long and all bullshit."
Simpson seemed as surprised by his answering guffaw as Eddie was. "I take it, Commander, that you are not enamored of the, er, 'social consequences' of being accompanied by your wife?"
"Sir, I would be more enamored of taking a bath with a barracuda. Even though Anne Cathrine isn't a genuine princess, Daddy is sure acting like she is. I now have my very own traveling rump court. Well, it's not _my_ court. I'm just a part of it. An increasingly lowly part of it."
Simpson frowned. "Yes, and from what I understand, Christian IV has saddled you with another senior naval officer, which bumps you yet another place down the chain of command."
"Oh, that's not even the worst part." Eddie tried not to succumb to the urge to whine, which was attempting to overwhelm the none-too-high walls of his Manly Reserve.
"Oh?" Simpson now seemed more amused that sympathetic.
"Admiral, you haven't heard the latest roster of my fellow-travelers. Essentially, Anne Cathrine, not being a genuine princess, doesn't warrant genuine ladies in waiting. So we get a collection of other problematic persons from, or associated with, the Danish court, plus naval wives who have been given land grants in the New World."
One of Simpson's eyebrows elevated slightly. "But Christian IV doesn't have any New World land to grant."
"Not yet."
Simpson frowned. "I see. So I'm guessing that, along with the not-quite royal contingent, we have a just barely official entourage of courtesans, councilors, and huscarles? Some of whom enjoy special appointments by, and are probably assigned to carry out undisclosed missions for, His Royal Danish Majesty?"
"Yep, pretty much, sir."
Simpson nodded. "Yes, leave it to him to sneak in something like this in exchange for the ships he's committing to the expedition. Given the condition in which we received those hulls, I'm not so sure he isn't getting the better end of the deal." Simpson fixed Eddie with a suddenly intent stare. "Has he either intimated or overtly instructed you to take any orders directly from him?"
"No, sir. Why?"
Simpson rubbed his chin. "Well, because technically he could try to work that angle."
"I'm not sure I follow, sir."
Simpson steepled his fingers. "In recognition of your marriage and service, Gustav made you Imperial Count of Wismar. That made you imperial nobility of the USE. Technically. And that made it easy—well, easier—for Christian to get the nobles of his _Riksradet_ to accept your creation as a Danish noble, too."
Eddie blinked. "Sir, I'm not a Danish noble. Not really."
"No? If I'm not mistaken, one of Christian's wedding gifts to you was land, wasn't it?"
"Yes, sir. Some miserable little island in the Faroes. I think it has a whopping population of ten. That includes the goats."
Simpson did not smile. "And since your received the land as part of a royal patent, you were made a _herremand_ , weren't you?"
"Uh—yes, sir. Something like that. I didn't pay too much attention."
"Well, you should have, Commander. You became Danish nobility when you accepted that land. And therefore, a direct vassal of King Christian IV. Who, unless I'm much mistaken, has bigger things in mind for you. In the meantime, we'd better inform the task force's captains that, in place of all that pipe they were going to be hauling, they're going to be billeting more troops. A lot more troops."
Eddie was relieved. The mission was no longer purely reconnaissance, although that was not common knowledge. Not even among all the members of the ER Department. "How many more sir, and where from?"
"Just under four hundred, Commander. And all from the Lowlands."
"So they're Dutch."
Simpson shook his head. "No. They're from the Brabant."
Eddie stared. "From the _Spanish_ Lowlands?"
Simpson simply nodded.
"Sir—we're taking Spanish soldiers to fight for us in the Spanish-held New World?"
"Commander, here's what I know currently. The troops are being provided by the archduchess infanta Isabella. As I understand it, these troops will have sworn loyalty to her nephew Fernando the king in the Low Countries, but not her older nephew, Philip the king of Spain."
"But Fernando is Philip's younger brother, his vassal—"
"Precisely. And that's why we're going to stop our speculations right there, Commander. The story behind Fernando sending troops with us to assist Dutch colonial interests in the New World is one that is well above your pay grade at this early point in the process. I know that because it's above _my_ pay grade. I am not yet on the political 'need to know' list. And I suspect the mystery will remain right up until the infanta's troops are being berthed aboard your flotilla. Which probably won't happen until the very last possible day."
Eddie shook his head. "Every day, this 'little reconnaissance mission' not only gets bigger and more complicated, it gets increasingly surreal." Eddie glanced at the map of the Caribbean that Simpson had produced from his own folders. "Hell, we can't even be sure that there are any remaining Dutch colonies for us to help. And vice versa."
Simpson spread his hands on his desk. "Well, we know that once the Dutch West India Company got their hands on the histories in Grantville, they got a two-year head start on their colonization of St. Eustatia in the Leeward Islands. By their own report, they redirected some of their best administrators there last year. Notably, Jan van Walbeeck, whom history tells us was very effective in improving the situation down in Recife."
Eddie shrugged. "And who returned to the Provinces from there just a week before Admiral Tromp arrived in Recife with the remains of the fleet that was shattered at the Battle of Dunkirk. Pity Tromp and Walbeeck couldn't have overlapped even a few days in Recife. If they had, we'd know a lot more about how the situation in the New World may be changing."
"Quite true. But at least we know that Tromp arrived in Recife, and was making plans to relocate, since the colonies in that part of South America were untenable after the destruction of the Dutch fleet at Dunkirk."
"Yes, sir, but relocate to _where_? The two or three friendly ships that have come from the New World since the middle of last year can't tell us. Even the _jacht_ that Tromp himself sent last March only confirmed that he expected to commence relocating in April, but not where."
Simpson scoffed. "And can you blame him for not being specific? Imagine if the Spanish had stumbled across that ship, seized it, interrogated the captain. Then they'd know where to find him. From an operational perspective, every day that Tromp can work without Spanish detection is a found treasure. He will have to ferry a sizable population—well, 'contingent'—from Recife to whatever new site he's selected, house those people, find a reliable source of indigenous supplies, establish a patrol perimeter, fortifications. All without any help from back home. He has his work cut out for him, Commander."
"Agreed, sir. But the flip side is that while we're coming with the help he almost surely needs, we don't know where to deliver it to him."
"No, but we know the best places to look. Right now, there are three noteworthy Dutch colonies in the Caribbean and the northern littoral of South America. We know they've sent people and supplies to St. Eustatia. We know there's a small settlement on Tobago, just northeast of Trinidad. And we know that they sent an expedition under Marten Thijssen last year to take Curaçao."
"And that assumes Thijssen's mission was a success."
"Yes, it does. It also assumes that Tromp's stated intent to abandon Recife was not disinformation. But that seems very unlikely. Deceiving the Spanish on that point wouldn't buy him any durable advantage. In a few months' time, the Spanish would learn that he hadn't left, would blockade Recife, and grind him down. With the Dutch fleet in tatters, there's no relief force to be sent."
"So let's consider the three reasonable options. Curaçao is perilously close to the Spanish Main, just north of the path of the inbound treasure fleet. A great location from which to hunt the Spanish, but not a great location in which to hide from them. And the colony on Tobago is small. Too small: one hundred and fifty persons, at most."
Eddie nodded. "So, St. Eustatia."
Simpson nodded. "Exactly. St. Eustatia is in the middle of the Leeward Islands. So it's out of the way and not much visited by the Spanish. Yet history shows that, in time, 'Statia's central location could make it a powerful trading hub, once the traffic in the Caribbean picks up in intensity. It's also small enough to be defensible, but not so small as to be a rock from which there is no escape."
Eddie nodded. "Yes, Admiral, it all makes sense, but I'm still worried that even our last word of the Caribbean—from the Dutch fluyt _Koninck David_ —still didn't include any mention of Tromp. Or much about St. Eustatia at all."
Simpson shrugged. "As I remember the report, the _Koninck David_ left the Straits of Florida for its return to Europe in August. They wouldn't have been anywhere near 'Statia for half a year before that, in all likelihood. And although they didn't have any reassuring news for us, the American with them, young Phil Jenkins, also reported that the Spanish presence in the area was still pretty sparse. Which is historically consistent: until the Spanish were significantly challenged, they remained pretty close to their fortified ports and key colonies. With the abandoning of Recife, all the Dutch colonies are, practically speaking, off the beaten path. And St. Eustatia more than the other two."
"I agree that's where Admiral Tromp is likely to be, Admiral—if he's anywhere at all."
"What are you implying, Commander?"
Eddie produced one of the many history books he'd been poring over for the last several weeks. "I'm implying that in this period, the Spanish are realizing the need to establish the Armada de Barlovento, the squadron that enforces their territorial claim over the entirety of the Caribbean. If the ships that survived Dunkirk left Recife with even half of the ships that were already there, that's still a major force in the Caribbean. Too major for the Spanish to ignore, if they detect it."
" _If_ they detect it—a very big _if_ , Commander. But your point is well-taken. Even though our history books show that the Armada de Barlovento is fairly anemic right now, events since our arrival may have already led the Spanish to resharpen its teeth in this timeline. If so—well, then heed the Department of Economic Resource's exhortations, commander: remember that this is a recon mission only, and not to get embroiled in close range gun duels with the Spanish."
"Or pirates."
Simpson smiled. "Or them either." He stood. "Commander, I think that concludes the day's business. And unless I'm much mistaken, you have a lot of paperwork and correspondence ahead of you yet." He raised a salute.
Eddie jumped up and snapped a crisp response. "Yes, sir. Looks like I'll be burning the midnight oil. Again." And with that, he pivoted about on his false foot and made for the door, deciding that tonight he'd definitely need to use his remaining coffee ration. Definitely.
Simpson's eyes remained on the door as it closed behind Eddie Cantrell and then strayed to the folder on his desk marked "Reconnaissance Flotilla X-Ray (Cantrell)." He resisted the urge to open it yet again and inspect its ever-changing roster of ships. Each new diplomatic, military, or resource wrinkle in the USE seemed to make themselves felt as revisions to the complement of hulls. And with every week that Flotilla X-Ray's departure had been delayed, its size and composition shifted.
Its original composition had been sufficient for its originally simple mission. And likewise, Eddie had been the only possible candidate for the flotilla's senior up-time officer. Indeed, he had as much naval combat experience as any other up-timer (with the exception of Simpson himself). However, that experience was paltry by comparison to the great majority of the flotilla's down-time captains and commanders, who had spent most of their lives at sea. Many began as common sailors working "before the mast," and during some parts of their careers just about all of them had traded broadsides with their sovereigns' foes. Although the down-time naval officers who had been training for the mission clearly respected Eddie for his combat experience and storied daring, they also were very much aware that he was a relative newcomer to their profession, and was almost completely unfamiliar with the nuances of the sailing vessels upon which they themselves had grown to manhood and in which they were infinitely more at home than any place ashore.
What Eddie had in lieu of their profound nautical skill—as much from his up-time reading and gaming as from recent training—was an innate sense of the tempo and requirements of a flotilla operating under steam power. He was the only officer in Flotilla X-Ray who had that almost instinctual insight. Even those down-time crewmen who had been intensely trained in the technical branches, and who had long ago outstripped him in the expertise specific to any given subsystem of Simpson's new navy, still lacked his totalized sense of how all those complex parts fit and flowed together, producing both incredible synergies of military power, but also incredible vulnerabilities to breakdowns in either machinery or logistics.
Simpson kept staring at the folder, kept resisting the impulse to open it and reassure himself that Eddie was being given an adequate force to complete his mission and to be able to overmaster or outrun any foes that might present themselves. After all, the admiral told himself, feeling sheepish as he echoed the Department of Economic Resources, it was a simple recon mission. There was nothing to worry about. So what if Reconnaissance Flotilla X-Ray was bound for the New World, beyond the limits of the USE's power to help, or even readily communicate with it? The flotilla was still fundamentally a shake-down cruise for the first production models of Simpson's first generation of steam-powered warships. They, usually with Eddie on-board, had been put through extensive sea-trials, and, except for a few quirks, had performed admirably—even superbly, if Simpson were to say so himself. They were good ships, and Eddie was a good, if young, officer.
Simpson studied the flaps of the folder, edges dirty with the wear of his worried fingers, of his impatient thumbs prying back the dull covers. Commander Cantrell and the rest of the flotilla would simply conduct the preparatory operations in the Gulf and the Caribbean and then, when the time was right, Admiral John Chandler Simpson would bring over his new navy of mature, second generation ships, as shiny and lethal a weapon as this world had yet seen.
The consequent "pacification" of rivals in the New World would ready his blue water fleet for the more serious and definitive battles that it would almost certainly have to fight against one or more of the armadas of the Old World. It was impossible to foresee which nation, or collection thereof, would ultimately find the rise of the USE so intolerable a phenomenon that it would feel compelled to correct that trend in the most decisive manner possible: a no-holds-barred confrontation of navies. But in the dynamics of the rise and fall of nations, the uncertainties regarding such conflicts had never been _if_ they would occur, but rather with whom, and when, and where.
That thought, however, made Simpson's eyes wander to the thinner folder lying alongside the one for Flotilla X-Ray. This one was marked with a white triangle: an intel synopsis, containing a review of pending threats that might require naval intervention, sooner or later. France, Spain, even the Ottomans, could conceivably stir up enough trouble to keep Simpson's larger, finished fleet from a timely deployment to the New World. However, none of those powers appeared to be disposed or deployed to do so.
But then again, John Chandler Simpson knew that appearances could be deceiving and that the only thing certain about the future was that there was never, ever, anything certain about it.
He pushed the folders away, rested his chin on his hand, stared at the door through which Eddie Cantrell had exited, and succumbed to his now-habitual array of worries—half of which were common to all commanders of young men regardless of the time or place of the conflict, and half of which were the dark legacy of every father who had ever sent a son to fight a war in a distant land.
**_Brussels, The Spanish Low Countries_**
"So the Spanish tried to kill the pope? And _did_ kill John O'Neill in Rome?"
Thomas Preston, oldest officer among the Irish Wild Geese who served in the Lowlands, and Maestro-de-campo of the eponymous Preston Tercio, stared back at the group that had summoned him and delivered this shocking news. Seated at the center was Fernando, king in the Low Countries and brother of Philip IV of Spain. To his right was Maria Anna of the House of Hapsburg, Fernando's wife and sister of Emperor Ferdinand of Austria. And sitting to one side, but in the largest, most magnificent chair of all of them, was the grand dame of European politics herself, the archduchess infanta Isabella, still an authority in the Lowlands and aunt of both Fernando and Philip. And therefore, Preston's employer for the last twenty years. Oh, and then there was Rubens, the artist and intelligencer, sitting far to one side of the power-holding troika that ruled here in Brussels.
Maria Anna leaned forward slightly. "Colonel Preston, I assure you, my husband would not tell you such things unless they were true."
"Your Highness, I apologize. I did not intend that response as a sign of doubt, but of disbelief. It is shocking news, to say the least."
Fernando nodded. "To us, also, Colonel. And that is why we asked you to meet us alone. It may cause, er, unrest in the Irish _tercio_ s, if it comes to them as rumor. Coming from you, however, we might hope for a different reception."
Thomas Preston shifted in his suddenly-uncomfortable seat. "Your Highness, the reception might be _some_ what different—but not as different as if it came from one of the Old Irish colonels."
Maria Anna's eyebrows raised in curiosity. "'Old' Irish?"
"Yes, Your Highness. My family name, as you are probably aware, is not an Irish name at all, but English. That makes us Prestons 'New' Irish, associated with the old, pre-Reformation landlords who eventually married into the Irish families. We are often wealthier than our Old Irish neighbors—which makes us suspect to begin with, I fear—but no amount of money will ever equate to having ancient Gaelic roots, to being one of the families whose names are routinely associated with the High Kingship's tanists—"
"The tanists?" Maria Anna echoed.
It was Isabella herself who answered. "The royal families of Ireland designate one of their number as chief among them. And it is usually from among these that, in elder times, the current king's successor—the tanist—was chosen."
"Ah," breathed Rubens, "so this is why Hugh O'Neill the Elder was known as 'The O'Neill.' He was the chieftain of that dynasty and all those subordinate to it."
"That is my understanding, but I suspect that Colonel Preston would add details I have missed or misunderstood. Most pertinent to our concerns, though, is that there are—or were—only two scions of the royal houses remaining free, outside Ireland, who had clear entitlement to becoming tanists of the vacant throne: the recently deceased John O'Neill, the earl of Tyrone, and Hugh O'Donnell, the earl of Tyrconnell."
" _Attainted_ Earls, My Grace," added Rubens.
"Yes, yes," she replied testily, "so the English have it. The same English who just happened to steal Ireland from its own people, and whose attainting of its few remaining nobles is merely the conclusive legalistic coda to their campaign of usurpation and rapine. It is not as if any legitimate monarch on the Continent, Catholic or Protestant, cares a whit for the juridical rationalizations of England's theft of a whole nation. But let us return to Colonel Preston's point. The Old Irish will, unfortunately, not hear this news as well from him as they would from one of the survivors of their royal families. But there is nothing to be done about that. The last O'Neill, who is not directly in the line of titular inheritance, is Owen Roe, and he now commands the pope's new bodyguard. The last O'Donnell is my godson, Hugh Albert, and he is . . ." She paused, either catching her breath or mastering a quaver in her voice: Preston could not determine which. ". . . is engaged in other matters and unable to return at present."
Preston sat straighter. Whereas John O'Neill had been insufferable and Owen Roe tolerable, Hugh O'Donnell had been a good fellow: clever, a shrewd soldier, well-educated, well-spoken, and without regal airs. So why the hell wasn't he here? He'd disappeared in April, and now, when he was needed most—
"Colonel Preston," Fernando articulated carefully, as if aware that he would have to reacquire the mercenary's attention before continuing.
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"I should add that news of the earl of Tyrone's death, and the attempt on the pope's life, are only precursors to the primary reason I asked you to join us today."
"Precursors, Your Highness?"
"Yes. First, I welcome you to share your opinion on how your men will receive the news. This is material to the next matter we must discuss."
"Well, Your Majesty, I am not one to make predictions, especially not in regard to my own somewhat mercurial countrymen. But I feel sure of this: ever since news came that Urban had been forcibly removed—rather, 'chased out'—of the Holy See, and was being actively pursued by Borja's own cardinal-killing Spaniards, every one of my senior officers has expressed their support for Urban. When they learn that Borja and his Spanish army tried to murder the pope and killed John O'Neill while he was trying to rescue an up-timer and his pregnant wife . . . Well, let's say my biggest concern will be to make sure that they don't start picking fights with our 'comrades' in your own Spanish _tercio_ s."
Fernando raised a finger. "You happen to have used an interesting turn of phrase, Colonel Preston. In fact, those Spanish _tercio_ s are _not_ mine, they are my brother's. They are on Spanish payroll, direct from Madrid."
Preston heard Fernando's tone shift, heard it move from the full-voiced, natural cadences of a frank conversation into one laced with slower, quieter insinuations. _Careful, now, Thomas. When a well-manicured Spanish gentleman starts addressing his topics on the slant, you can be sure there's a snake in the grass somewhere nearby._ "Yes, Your Highness," Preston agreed carefully, "the Spanish are paid directly from Spanish coffers. Unlike us."
Fernando smiled. "Precisely. Unlike you." And then he looked down the table at Rubens.
Which told Thomas Preston that now he was going to hear the real dirt, the snaky facts of real politick that Fernando could not afford to utter with his own lips. That way, if later asked to admit or deny having mentioned those facts, he could offer a technically truthful denial. Kings: even the best of them had a bit of viper's blood running in their veins. Thomas supposed they'd be dead, if they didn't.
Ruben moved his considerable bulk closer to the broad, gleaming table at which they all sat. "Colonel Preston, given recent events, we are concerned that this year, when the time comes for our hired troops to renew their oaths to Spain, that there may be, er, resistance in your ranks, particularly."
Preston waved a dismissive hand. "Then let's skip the renewal of the oath. After all, it has no explicit term limit. The renewal is symbolic."
"Yes, and it is a most important symbol. So, in order to preserve that symbol and yet also preserve the genuine loyalty of the four _tercio_ s of Wild Geese that are the ever-stalwart backbone and defenders of this realm, we have come up with a reasonable expedient: to simply change the oath."
"Change the oath?"
"Yes."
"In what way?"
"This year, when you take the oath, it will omit the reference to Archduchess Isabella as being Philip's vassal. You will take your oath to her as you have for twenty years, but without mentioning King Philip of Spain." Rubens paused, his eyes sought Preston's directly. "I presume you see the political practicality of this adjustment?"
_Oh, I see it, painter. I see everything you hope I'll see without your having to say it._ On the surface, the change of oath was just to minimize any possibility of disaffection or departure arising from any mention of direct fealty to the increasingly unpopular King of Spain. But, there was an underlying subtlety which, Preston was quite sure, was the real intent of the change of oath. _We'll only be swearing fealty to Isabella. And, unless I'm much mistaken, to her nephew._
Rubens' next words confirmed his suspicions. "However, as a precaution, we will not point out the fact—which could be easily misconstrued, of course—that, in agreeing to renew your oaths to Her Grace the Infanta, that your service is most likely to be commanded by her nephew, whom she has been pleased to confirm as the senior power in her lands. So, although you now also serve the king in the Low Countries, that additional, extrapolative detail will remain unadvertised. For the moment."
Yes, for the moment. But Preston had been a pawn on the chessboard where kings played their games for many decades and could see where this political compass was pointing. With the oaths of the Wild Geese transferred directly to Fernando, their obedience and their fates were locked to him, not to Spain. Yes, technically Fernando was still a vassal of Spain, but how long that would continue was debatable. And so, when and if the Lowlands became fully and officially separate from the throne in Madrid, the Irish _tercio_ s would follow suit. And they would indeed comprise the loyal core of its army, since Philip's _tercio_ s in the Lowlands would most assuredly not follow the same path. But, problematically, they would still be in the same country. Preston flinched at the thought of his _tercio_ squaring off against their former Spanish counterparts. That would be a bloody, internecine business indeed—
"Is this change in the oath acceptable to you and your men, Colonel Preston?" Rubens asked. His small eyes did not blink.
"I will have to put it to them. However, given recent events, I think it will not only be acceptable but preferable. However, they will ask a question I cannot answer: how will they be paid? Already, the _reales_ from Spain are few and far between. If it wasn't for the deal Hugh O'Donnell struck with the Frenchman Turenne, earlier this year, I don't know what we would have done for food these past three months. But that supply is almost over—and truth be told, I was never comfortable with the arrangement."
"And why is that?" Maria Anna asked.
"Because, your Highness, until France and Madrid cooperated at the Battle of Dunkirk, the French had been the enemies of this realm, ever threatening the southern borders of the Brabant. I should know; I spent many months in garrison there, over the years. And then suddenly we are at peace—but it's a peace which is already fraying. So in taking bread from Turenne, we took bread from a past, and very possibly future, adversary of this court. I was not comfortable condoning it, but I was less comfortable seeing my men's families starve. So when O'Donnell arranged it by serving Turenne along with sixty of the men of his _tercio_ , I had little choice but to accept it. And, I must speak frankly, it brought trouble along with it."
"Oh?" asked Rubens. "What kind of trouble?"
"French trouble, Your Grace. Their agents have been lurking around our camps, letting it be known that the king of France is hiring mercenaries, and can pay them in hard coin, not cabbages and watered beer."
Rubens looked at the ruling troika. They just kept watching Preston. None of them blinked, but Maria Anna might have suppressed a small smile.
Rubens rotated one thumb around the other. "And have any of your men left our service for theirs?"
"No, but I worry that they may. I've heard rumors—rumors from this court—that some nobles here speak ill of us Wild Geese, say that we should be grateful for the scraps we're given, and that some of us are already taking service with the French."
"Yes," said Ruben, twirling his moustache, "we have heard the same thing. Largely, because we spread those rumors ourselves."
Preston gaped. "You what?"
Maria Anna leaned forward; Preston tried to ignore the way it compressed her bosom. "Colonel, the privations of your people have never been intentional, but in the last two months, we discovered that they lent credence to the belief in Paris that our grasp upon your continued loyalty was weak, and that certain members of the Wild Geese were indeed finding it necessary to seek employment elsewhere. To be more specific, to seek employment with the French themselves."
Preston felt heat rise in his face. "Your Highness, one of us did. The very best of us, some might say. Hugh Albert O'Donnell may have fed us, but he did it by agreeing to serve Turenne. Turenne! He's Richelieu's hand-picked military favorite. If the earl of Tyrconnell will take service with the French, then why shouldn't they think more of us will follow? And sixty of us did, the ones who went with O'Donnell."
"And whose service there fed you," Isabella observed from behind gnarled knuckles folded before her on the table.
"Yes, Your Grace, but at what cost? Where was Hugh when the pope was threatened? Where does he tarry, now that he is the last earl of Ireland, the last hope of his people? Where has he been since late in April?"
"Evidently working for his employer," Rubens observed smoothly.
"Yes, evidently. Abandoning us to work for the French. Which makes him, for all intents and purposes, a traitor!"
Isabella was on her feet in a single motion, cane brandished in one hand, the other pointing in quavering fury at Preston—or maybe at the word "traitor," which seemed to hover invisible in the air. "You call Hugh Albert O'Donnell a traitor?" she cried.
Preston stood his ground. "Your Grace, if he serves your traditional enemy, that makes him—"
With a swiftness that belied her age, her infirmity, her arthritis and the gray habit of her order, she dashed her cane down upon the table: the heavy oak rod splintered with a crash. "A _traitor_?!" she shrieked, livid. "How dare you say—how dare you _think_ —such a thing!"
The room was not merely silent, but frozen, all eyes on the trembling, imperial, terrible old woman who had risen up like a wrathful god from an elder age to silence them all with her fury and undiminished, magnificent passion.
Preston swallowed, but did not avert his eyes. "Your Grace, I mean no disrespect, but how are Lord O'Donnell's actions _not_ those of a traitor? Before Philip set Borja upon Rome, before the pope was threatened and John O'Neill was slain, he turned back all his honors and Spanish titles and went to work for France. For France, Your Grace. Your enemy, Spain's enemy—and now, his employer. How is that _not_ traitorous?"
"Colonel Preston, do you truly not see any other way to interpret Lord O'Donnell's actions?" When Preston shook his head, Isabella continued. "Hugh was the only one of you Wild Geese except Lord O'Neill who was made a naturalized Spanish citizen by the Crown, who became a knight, and a fellow of the court at Madrid. But then, when he saw that the same Crown never intended to make good its promises and debts to you and your countrymen, I understand that he came to your camp incognito, and explained his dilemma. Specifically, what response could he make if Philip had asked him, as an intimate of the court and loyal gentleman of Spain, to function as Madrid's special factotum and commander here? Which, given the current situation, could mean leading either his, or Spanish, _tercio_ s against those loyal to me, if Philip's displeasure with the Lowlands were to become so great. Was Lord O'Donnell to obey orders to attack me, or to attack you and his fellow countrymen, if that is how the loyalties of such a moment played out?"
Preston felt as though the chair he was seated in had been turned upside down. Or the world had. Or both.
"Think it through, Colonel. Lord O'Donnell had to step down from his post. And in doing so, it was incumbent upon him to return the beneficences he had received, and remove himself from Spanish territory. But not before he visited his men and yours, and enjoined you to think carefully to whom your allegiance would lie if faced with the eventualities that now seem to be hastening upon us. Philip is already attempting to compromise our non-Spanish _tercio_ s."
"Your Grace, all this I see plainly. But—France? Why not some other power? Why our old foe?"
Isabella reseated herself slowly. It was an almost leonine action, despite her age. "Because, it is through our old foe that he will orchestrate a solution to both your problem and our problem: money. Enough money for the Lowlands to survive without recourse to Madrid's coffers. Enough money for your families to eat, and your men to have ample coin in their pockets."
Preston knew the room wasn't spinning, but at the moment, it felt as though it was. "And how will Hugh's service to France make possible this solution? And why has he not communicated this to us, as well as to you? My Grace, I mean no offense, but we are his countrymen: why has he not reassured us with the particulars of his plan?"
Isabella closed her eyes. "Because it is not _his_ plan. It is ours. And I,"—she opened eyes suddenly bright and liquid, but from which she refused to let tears run down—"and I could not tell him of it."
"But why? If he doesn't know how serving the French will more profoundly serve us, then by what inducement has he left us to—?"
Maria Anna silenced him with a small, sly smile. "My good Colonel Preston, I counsel you not to let these unexplained—and apparently inexplicable—events perturb you. You will note they do not perturb us. Indeed, our plans are well set. But it is often necessary that a cog spinning in one part of a complex machine has no knowledge of how its peers are turning elsewhere in the same device."
Preston frowned at her words, heard two of Isabella's sentences once again in his head: _It is not his plan, it is ours. And I dare not tell him of it_. Implying that the truly ignorant cog in Maria Anna's machination was not Preston, but O'Donnell himself.
And he felt the oblique implication strike him so hard and so suddenly that the room seemed to tilt momentarily. Had O'Donnell's apparent defection been _planned_? Had he been maneuvered into it so that he was then a properly situated, yet unknowing, piece of some larger stratagem?
He looked quickly at Isabella, who was looking intently at him. He did not see canniness; he saw—
Love. Maternal love. Intense, irrational, desperate. But why would she do such a thing to O'Donnell, unless it was—?
To save him. Of course. Now it made sense. And suddenly Preston saw how, since the arrival of the up-timers and their library's revelation of the duplicity of the Spanish in regard to their Irish servitors, the grand dame of European statecraft had realized that in order for her cherished god-child to survive—and thrive—she would have to shift the game board so that he could weather the change in fortunes.
Yes, there was no doubt about it. It was clear enough that, in the days before the up-timers, she had, every step of the way, protected him, groomed him, got him a knighthood. Of course, then Father Florence Conry had almost ruined it all with his hare-brained proposal to invade Ireland. But whereas the priest had envisioned a force jointly led by the Earls O'Donnell and O'Neill and the predictable co-dominium that would arise in its wake, Madrid had embraced a different solution. Philip was no fool, and he had the benefit of the count-duke of Olivares' advice, to boot. So Philip had summoned young O'Donnell, knighted him in an order more prestigious than O'Neill's (which had been Isabella's intent), but then chose him to lead the Irish expedition alone. It was a politically prudent choice, one which Isabella had not expected, probably due to O'Donnell's youth and his clan's less storied name. But the Spanish king and his counselor had seen the qualities, and restraint, in the younger man that would make him both a more capable general of armies and a more capable revolutionary orator than his mercurial peer, O'Neill.
But, since the invasion never came off (largely derailed by Isabella herself, as Preston recalled), the only lasting effect of all this maneuvering was that it ensured that the already difficult relationship between O'Donnell and O'Neill became as bad and bitter as it could be. It hadn't helped that, in addition to simply choosing the younger over the older, Philip and Olivares had made their assessment of Hugh's superior qualities well known at court, and thereby, throughout Europe.
So Isabella had saved her godson from the disastrous invasion, just as she had taken pains to ensure that he was college-educated, naturalized, knighted, and furnished with a tremendously advantageous marriage. All done to both ensure his success, and ensure his survival. A target of English assassins since birth, the higher Hugh O'Donnell's station became, the more pause it gave to those who sent murderers across the Channel: were they plotting the death of a renegade member of the Irish royalty, or an immigrated Spanish gentleman? The former was an affair of no account, but the latter could easily become an international incident, and was therefore best avoided.
And having thus protected and provided for her charge, Isabella of the up-time history had died in 1633, presumably satisfied that she had seen him safely married with a title and land. But within the year, those plans had come undone, here as there. His wife having died without producing surviving issue, he lost more than his love; he lost the land and titles that had been her dowry. In that world, with his godmother dead, he had had little choice but to do what he might as the colonel of his own _tercio_. That he had recruited and commanded well there no less than here, that much was clear. But there, Fernando had evidently inherited Philip's utilitarian attitudes toward the Irish, and had spent them like water. Which was sadly prudent, Preston had to admit. After all, as the opportunity to reclaim Ireland became an ever-thinner tissue of lies, the Spanish masters of the Wild Geese feared that they would be increasingly susceptible to subornation by other, rival powers. And so the last of them were sent to Spain, and then to their destruction in putting down the Catalan revolt that began in 1640.
But what about in this altered world, where Hugh had no future with Spain and none in the Lowlands either, unless it officially broke with Madrid? What place for O'Donnell? Indeed, Preston realized with a sudden chill up his back, what place for the Wild Geese, for Ireland? And evidently, the old girl Isabella had hatched a scheme to correct some, maybe all, of these problems. But it was a scheme so deep, and probably so devious, that it had to be kept from one of its primary executors: Hugh Albert O'Donnell.
Isabella had obviously seen the understanding in Preston's eyes. "So you see, now."
The Irish colonel swallowed, nodded. "I believe I do, Your Grace. Just one question. Is there something my people, my Wild Geese, can do to help?"
"You already have."
Preston started. "I have?"
"Specifically, four hundred of the men of Lord O'Donnell's _tercio_ have. They were not sent to garrison in Antwerp as you, and they, were originally told. They were sent there to board ships and have now joined a task force in order to fulfill their part in our plan."
Preston was too stunned to feel stunned. "And if they succeed?"
Fernando leaned forward. "If they succeed, our futures are secure. Both yours and ours. For many, many years to come."
"And if they fail?"
Isabella sat erect. "Colonel Preston, I am surprised at that question. Tell me, as the most senior officer of my Irish Wild Geese, how often have they ever failed me?"
"Only a very few times, Your Grace. But their determination in your service has a dark price, too."
"Which is?"
"That, rather than retreat, they die trying."
Isabella sat back heavily, looking every year of her age. She responded to Preston—"I know, Colonel, I know"—but her eyes were far away and seamed with worry.
**_July 1635_**
What raging of the sea
**_St. Kilda archipelago, North Atlantic_**
"Commander Cantrell, propellers are all-stop. Awaiting orders."
Eddie Cantrell looked to his left. The ship's nominal captain, Ove Gjedde, nodded faintly. It was his customary sign that his executive officer, Commander Cantrell, was free to give his orders autonomously. Eddie returned the nod, then aimed his voice back over his shoulder. "Secure propellers and prepare to lower the vent cover."
"Securing propellers, aye. Ready to lower prop vent cover, aye."
"And Mr. Svantner, send the word to cut steam. Let's save that coal."
"Aye, aye, sir. Cutting steam. Let free the reef bands, sir?"
Eddie looked at Gjedde again, who, by unspoken arrangement, reserved rigging and sail orders for himself. The sails had been reefed for the engine trials and with the engine no longer propelling the ship, it would soon begin to drift off course.
The weather-bitten Norwegian nodded once. Svantner saluted and went off briskly, shouting orders that were soon drowned out by the thundering rustle of the sails being freed and unfurled into the stiff wind blowing near the remote island of St. Kilda.
Well, technically speaking, they were just off the sheer and rocky north coast of the island of Hirta, largest and most populous islet of the St. Kilda archipelago. If you could call any landmass with fewer than two hundred people "populous." But even that small settlement was pretty impressive, given how far off St. Kilda was from—well, from everything. Over fifty miles from the northwesternmost island of the already-desolate Outer Hebrides, and almost 175 miles north of Ireland, Hirta and the rest of the islands of the group were, for all intents and purposes, as isolated as if they had been on the surface of another planet. And, since it was rumored that most of the inhabitants were still as influenced by druidic beliefs as by Christianity, it was not an exaggeration to say that, even though the natives of St. Kilda _did_ dwell on the same planet, they certainly did inhabit a different world.
"Commander Cantrell, there you are! I'm sorry I'm late. I was detained below decks. Paying my respects to your lovely wife and her ladies."
Eddie swiveled around on his false heel. Time at sea had taught him, even with his excellent prosthetic leg, not to lose contact with the deck. "And you are"—he tried to recall the face of the man, couldn't, guessed from context—"Lieutenant Bjelke, I presume?"
The man approaching—tall, lithe, with a long nose and long hair that was several shades redder than Eddie's own—offered a military bow, and tottered a bit as the ship rolled through a higher swell. "That is correct, sir. I tried to present myself to you immediately upon coming aboard, but I found myself embarrassingly, er, indisposed."
Eddie smiled, noticed that Bjelke's pallor was not just the result of pale Nordic skin, but a manful, ongoing struggle against sea-sickness. "Is that why you did not attempt transfer to this ship until today, Mr. Bjelke? Waiting for good weather?"
Bjelke, although only twenty, returned the smile with a courtier's polish. Which was only logical: his father, Jens, had been the Norwegian chancellor for more than twenty years and was certainly one of the nation's wealthiest nobles. If one measured his stature in terms of influence rather than silver, he was arguably its most powerful lord, having been given the Hanseatic city of Bergen as his personal fief just last year. Henrik Bjelke had, therefore, grown up surrounded by wealth, influence, and ministers of etiquette.
Fortunately, his father was also a fair and industrious man, having studied widely abroad and now compiling the first dictionary of the Norwegian language. And Henrik, his second son, had apparently inherited his sire's talents and tastes for scholarship. Originally bound for the university in Padova, the arrival of Grantville had caught both Henrik's interest and imagination. Like many other adventurous sons (and no small number of daughters) of European noble houses, he had gone there to read in the up-time library, augmenting that education with classes and seminars at the nearby University of Jena. It was perhaps predictable that he was assigned as Eddie's adjutant and staff officer, as much because of Christian's keen interest in the young Norwegian as Bjelke's own unfulfilled desires to pursue a military career. He had ultimately done so quite successfully in the up-time world of Eddie's birth, rising to become the head of the Danish Admiralty.
However, Bjelke's familiarity with things nautical had been a later-life acquisition. For the moment, it was clearly a mighty struggle for him just to maintain the at-sea posture that was the down-time equivalent of "at ease" in the presence of a superior officer with whom one had familiarity (and with whom the difference in rank was not too profound). Eddie discovered he was inordinately cheered by Rik's unsteadiness. _At last! someone with even_ less _shipboard experience than me!_ He gestured to the rail.
Bjelke gratefully accompanied the young up-timer to the rail, but stared at it for a moment before putting his hand upon it. The "rail" was actually comprised of two distinct parts, one of iron, one of wood. The iron part consisted of two chains that ran where the bulkhead should be, each given greater rigidity by passing tautly through separate eyelets in vertical iron stanchions. Those stanchion were form-cut to fit neatly into brass-cupped holes along the bulwark line, and thus could be removed at will.
However, mounted atop those stanchions, and stabilizing themselves by a single descending picket that snugged into a low wooden brace affixed to the deck, was a light wooden rail. Each section of the rail was affixed to its fore and aft neighbors by a sleeve that surrounded a tongue-in-groove mating of the two separate pieces, held tight by a brass pin that passed through them both at that juncture. Henrik tentatively leaned his weight upon it. It was quite firm. "Ingenious," he murmured admiring the modular wooden rail sections and ignoring the chain-and-stanchion railing. "Your work, Commander?"
Eddie shrugged. "I had a hand in it."
Bjelke smiled slowly. "Modesty is rare in young commanders, my elders tell me, but is a most promising sign. I am fortunate to have you as a mentor, Commander Cantrell."
Eddie kept from raising an eyebrow. Well, Henrik Bjelke had certainly revealed more than a little about himself, and his role vis-a-vis Eddie, in those "innocent" comments. First, the young Norwegian obviously knew the ship upon which this vessel had been heavily based—the USS _Hartford_ of the American Civil War—since he was not surprised by the presence of what would otherwise have been the wholly novel chain-and-stanchion railing arrangement, which reduced dangers from gunwale splinters and, in the case of close targets, could be quickly removed to extend the lower range of the deck guns' maximum arc of elevation. However, Bjelke had pointedly _not_ been expecting the modular wooden rail inserts that Eddie had designed for greater deck safety when operating on the high seas. That bespoke a surprisingly detailed knowledge of the ship's design origins, even for a clever young man who'd spent more than a year in the library at Grantville.
Secondly, Bjelke confidently identified the innovation as Eddie's, which suggested that he'd been well-briefed about the technological gifts of the young American. Which went along with the implication that his elders considered Cantrell a most promising officer.
And that likely explained the third interesting bit of information: that Henrik Bjelke had not been encouraged to look at this assignment as merely a military posting, but as an apprenticeship of sorts.
And all those nuances, having a common emphasis on familiarization with up-timers and their knowledge, seemed to point in one direction: straight at His Royal Danish Majesty Christian IV.
Eddie had to hand it to his half-souse, half-genius regal father-in-law: USE emperor and Swedish sovereign Gustav Adolf might be running around physically conquering various tracts of Central Europe, but Christian had launched his own, highly successful campaign of collecting and captivating the hearts and minds of persons who were poised to become high-powered movers and shakers of the rising generation. His son Ulrik was betrothed to Gustav's young daughter. His daughter Anne Cathrine was married to the most high-profile war-hero-technowizard from now-legendary Grantville. And now, he had added sharp-witted Henrik Bjelke to the mix.
And that addition brought distinct value-added synergies to many of King Christian's prior social machinations. Bjelke's appointment no doubt bought the gratitude of various influential Norwegians, who had, so far, been the "forgotten poor cousin" of the reconstituted Union of Kalmar between Sweden and Denmark. Bjelke's appointment also provided Eddie with a gifted aide who was unusually familiar with up-time manners and technology, and who no doubt understood that this mentorship was an extraordinary opportunity to put himself on a political and military fast track.
Of course, thus indebted to Christian, it was also to be expected that Henrik Bjelke, willing or not, would also serve as the Danish king's—well, not _spy_ , exactly, but certainly his dedicated observer. And last, the bold Bjelke might just be valiant enough to help save Eddie's life at some point during the coming mission, thereby ensuring that Christian's daughter did not become a widow and that the familial connection to the up-timers remained intact. Alternatively, Bjelke, learning up-time ways and now having first-hand access to up-time technology, might also make a reasonable replacement husband for a widowed Anne Cathrine. Yup, the old Danish souse-genius had sure gamed out all the angles on this appointment.
About which Eddie reasoned he had best learn everything he could. "So what do they call you at home, Lieutenant Bjelke?"
"At—at home, Commander?"
"Yes. You know, the place you live." Although, Eddie realized a moment later, that the son of Jens Bjelke wouldn't have just one home. More like one home for every month of the year . . .
But that didn't impede the young Norwegian's understanding of Eddie's intent. "Ah, my familiar name! I'm Rik, sir. An amputated version of my proper name, so that I might not be confused with all the other Henriks in our family and social circles. Not very dignified, I'm afraid."
Eddie smiled. "Well, I'm not very dignified myself, so that suits me just fine, Rik. You got attached to the flotilla pretty much at the last second, I seem to recall."
Bjelke's gaze wavered. "Yes, sir. There were impediments to overcome."
"Impediments? Political?"
"Familial, I'm afraid. My father does not share in my enthusiasm for a military career."
Hm. Given the scanty biographical sources from up-time, that might actually be the truth, rather than a clever way of explaining away what might have been a maneuver by Christian IV to get Bjelke added to the flotilla without Simpson or Eddie having enough time to conduct research on his possible ties to the Danish court. What Christian had either not planned upon, or simply couldn't outflank, was the possibility that Simpson and Eddie had compiled dossiers on all possibly mission-relevant personnel without waiting for assignment rosters.
Which they had done. It had been time-consuming, but worth it. Although Eddie lacked any detailed information on many of the flotilla's senior officers and leaders, he had a thumbnail sketch for most of them. In fact, Ove Gjedde was the only notable exception.
Eddie nodded understanding at Bjelke's professed plight. "But your father finally listened to your appeals?"
Rik blushed profoundly, and Eddie could have hugged him: _and he blushes faster and redder than I do, too! Damn, even if he is a spy, it's almost worthwhile having him around so that another officer looks and acts even more like the boy next door than I do!_ But Eddie kept his expression somber as Bjelke explained. "My father remained deaf to my appeals for military experience—but not to King Christian's."
Eddie was surprised and reassured by the frankness of that admission. He doubted Christian would have been happy with Bjelke drawing such a straight line between his own presence and the Danish king's desires. And while it was possible that this was disinformation meant to impart an aura of trustworthiness to Rik, a look at the younger man's face and genuine blush-response told Eddie otherwise. Bjelke was simply a polished, well-educated young man who was likely to prove courageous and capable in the years to come, but right now, was a youngling out on his first great adventure. If there was any duplicity in him at all, it would be minor, and contrary to his nature. Eddie could live with that. Easily.
"Well, Rik, however you got here, you're here. So, welcome aboard the _Intrepid_. First order of business is to make you at home."
"Thank you, sir. My man Nils has seen to my berthing and I must say it is a welcome change from the _Serendipity_. Those accommodations were most . . . uncomfortable."
"Well, I'm glad you like your stateroom"— _more like a long closet_ , reflected Eddie—"but when I suggested we make you at home, I meant familiarization with the ship. Do you have any questions about the _Intrepid_ that your briefers didn't answer for you?"
Rik brightened immediately; if he'd been a puppy, his ears would probably have snapped straight up. "A great many questions, Commander. Although not for want of my asking. Frankly, my briefers, as you call them, knew fewer particulars about your new ships than I did. I had studied the classes of American vessels that were the foundations of your designs, which they had not. And they could answer only a few questions about how they differed, other than the guns and the steam plants. Seeing them, it is clear that you have made other significant modifications."
Eddie nodded. "Yep, we had to. This class—the Quality I class—needs to be an even more stable firing platform than the original _Hartford_ was."
"Because of the increased range and capability of her eight-inch pivot guns?"
Eddie shrugged. "That's a large part of it. But it gets more complicated. First, the _Hartford_ had its broad side armament on the weather deck. We put ours below."
"Better performance in bad weather?"
"Well, that too, but it was actually the result of some complex design trade-offs. First, we wanted maximum clear traverse for the pivot guns. So that meant 'clearing the gun deck,' as much as we could. There was already a lot that _had_ to go on up there. We needed our antipersonnel weapons on the weather deck so they could bear freely upon all quarters. And although we have a steam engine, that's for tactical use only. Strategically speaking, we're just a very fast sailed ship. Meaning we've got a full complement of rigging and sail-handlers on the weather deck as well. So, the only way we could clear the deck was to put the guns underneath.
"What we got out of that was a more commanding elevation for our naval rifles. But it also allowed us to bring a lot of the weight that was high up in the _Hartford_ down in our design, thereby lowering the center of gravity."
"So, putting the broadside weapons on a lower deck also made the ship more stable."
"Exactly. But then, we didn't want to put our crew down in the bowels of the ship. So we had to put the crew quarters inboard on the gun deck. The only reason we were even able to consider doing that was because our broadside weapons are carronades. They're a lot shorter than cannons, and their carriages are wheeled so as to run back up inclined planes when they recoil."
"But that still wasn't enough, was it, sir?" Rik looked over the side at the noticeable slope that ran out from the rail down into the water. "So to get the rest of the room you needed for inboard crew berthing, you pushed your battery farther outboard by widening the beam of the gun deck."
Eddie nodded his approval. "Bravo Zulu, Mr. Bjelke."
"'Bravo Zulu?'"
Eddie smiled. "An up-time naval term. 'Well done.' Learned it from my mentor."
"Ah. That would be Admiral Simpson."
"The same. And so, yes, we widened the gun deck, which meant another change from the original _Hartford_. She had pretty much sheer sides, which is just what you'd want for a fast sloop. But when we designed the Quality I class, we realized that not only would adding that outward slope of the sides—or 'tumble home'—be a good thing to add in terms of deck width, but for stability in higher seas, thanks to how increased beam reduces roll."
Bjelke leaned out over the rail. His eyes followed the waterline from stem to stern. "Yes, these are the structural differences I saw, and at which I wondered. Thank you for explaining them, Commander." He pointed at the somewhat smaller steamship pulling past them at a distance of four hundred yards, her funnel smokeless, her sails wide and white in the wind. "I see the same design changes in the smaller ship—the Speed I class, I think?—but less pronounced."
Eddie nodded. "Yeah, we decided to keep her closer to the original lines of the sloop. So we put only one pivot gun on her, kept the tumble home shallower, and freeboard lower and the weather deck closer to the waterline. She sails sharper, faster, more responsively, and has three feet less draught."
"So better for sailing in shallows, up rivers, near reefs."
"Yes, and strategically speaking, our fastest ship. In a good breeze, she'll make eight knots, and she's rigged for a generous broad reach. Unless she's fully becalmed, she can make reasonable forward progress with wind from almost three-quarters of the compass, assuming she has the room to tack sharply."
"And yet you do not label her a steam-sloop, as was the ship that inspired her."
"You mean the _Kearsarge_ from the Civil War?" Eddie shrugged. "Well, as I understand the Civil War nomenclature, if a ship had a fully covered gun deck, she wasn't a sloop. Even if she had a sloop's lines, she'd still be called frigate-built. Although frigate-built doesn't necessary imply a military ship."
Rik smiled ruefully. "I grew up on farms. Even though many of them were close to the water, I confess I do not have a mariner's vocabulary yet. I find these distinctions confusing. Because, if the reports I hear are true, you are not calling the other ship—the _Courser_ , I believe?—a frigate, either."
"No, we're calling her class a 'destroyer' and the _Intrepid_ 's class a 'cruiser.' As class names, they're not great solutions. But at least they're up-time terms that haven't been used to describe ships, yet, so they'll be distinctive and somewhat descriptive in terms of role. If you're familiar with the up-time history of those classes of ships, that is. But anything else we tried to come up with ran afoul of the labeling confusion that already results from the current lack of international naming conventions.
"In fact, 'frigate' would have been the most confusing label we could have settled on. Ever since down-time naval architects started doing research in the Grantville library, most of the shipyards of Europe have started building new designs, the straight-sterned frigate chief among them. So if we called our new steam-ships frigates, they'd routinely get confused with the new sailed vessels currently under construction throughout Europe."
Bjelke nodded attentively, but Eddie saw that his focus was now split between their conversation and something located aft of their current place at the rail. As soon as Eddie noticed Rik's apparent distraction, the young Norwegian moved his eyes, ever so slightly, upward over his superior's shoulder and toward the new item of interest.
Eddie turned and saw, back by the entrance to the companionway leading down to the officer's quarters, that his wife—and her "ladies," as Bjelke styled them—had emerged to stand on the deck in a tight cluster. They were not an uncommon sight topside, but they usually reserved their appearances for fine weather, not overcast skies. However, despite the mild wind freshening from out of the southeast, they were all dressed for cold weather, apparently. Or were they? Eddie squinted, saw no coats or shawls, which made him only more confused. _So why the hell do they have kerchiefs covering their heads? And all three of them, no less. Damn, I've never seen a lady of the aristocracy allow herself to look that, well, dowdy. And now they've all adopted the same frumpy look? What the heck is_ that _abou—?_
"Commander, given the arrival of the ladies, perhaps it would be convenient for you if I were to take my leave?"
Eddie nodded. "Probably so. Tell my wife that she can"—and then a voice inside his head, the one that was partially schooled in the etiquette of this age, muttered, _No, Eddie, that won't do. Think how it will look, how it will seem._
Damn, ship protocol was tricky, and yet was still kind of free-form in this era when navies weren't really navies just yet, and had protocols for some things, but not for others. For instance, take the simple desire to have his wife join him alone at the rail. He couldn't very well wave her over. That would be an obvious blow to her stature, and mark him as an indecorous boor, which would work against his accrual of respect as well. But if he sent Bjelke over to summon her, that would be like making the young Norwegian nobleman his valet and also be entirely too formal, to say nothing of downright stupid-looking. Yet, if Eddie left the rail to go over to Anne Cathrine, then it could be difficult to extricate themselves from the presence of their respective attendants—Bjelke and the ladies—if they didn't _all_ know how to take a hint—
Eddie discovered that, for the first time since he had stepped on a deep water ship, he had a headache and an incipient sense of seasickness. Which he allowed, probably had nothing to do with the sea at all.
But Bjelke offered a slight bow to Eddie, and inquired, "Might I—with your compliments—inform the ladies and your wife that you are currently without any pressing duties? And that I would be happy to escort any and all of them wherever they might wish to go?"
And for the third time— _wasn't that some kind of spiritual sign, or something?_ —Eddie felt a quick outrush of gratitude toward the young Norwegian. Bjelke's simple solution allowed the junior officer to decorously depart from his commander, greet the ladies, and inform them of the status of the ship's captain. Then Anne Cathrine could approach or not—with Bjelke and her ladies in tow or not—and this idiotic etiquette dance would be over and Eddie would have thus achieved the hardest nautical task of his day thus far: finding a way to converse with his wife, on deck and in private, for a scant few minutes.
Eddie nodded gratefully—hopefully not desperately—at Bjelke, who smiled and with a more pronounced bow, left to carry out his plan.
Which worked like a charm. He arrived at the ladies' group and presented himself. Cordial nods all around, a brief exchange, then he walked with Anne Cathrine halfway across the deck, and by some miracle of subtle body language, managed to successfully communicate to Eddie that he should meet them about halfway. Which done, effected a serene and stately rendezvous between man and wife as the crew watched through carefully averted eyes.
Bjelke nodded to both spouses and retraced his steps to the two remaining ladies. Eddie smiled at Anne Cathrine and as they walked back to the rail, the young American breathed a sign of relief. Another terrifying gauntlet had been run.
**_St. Kilda archipelago, North Atlantic_**
Once they arrived at the rail, Anne Cathrine looked up at Eddie, face serious, but her eyes seemed to twinkle. "Hi," she said, not bothering to suppress the dimple that this use of Amideutsch quirked into being.
Commander Eddie Cantrell felt the protocol-induced queasiness in his stomach become a midair dance of happy butterflies. "Hi," he said. Or maybe he gushed: he wasn't really sure. He was never exactly sure of what came out of his mouth when he was around the singularly beautiful and stammer-worthy sex goddess that was his almost-seventeen-year-old wife.
But instead of indulging in any more of the small signs of endearment that they had evolved over the past year to communicate in a playful (or, better yet, racy!) secret banter when in somber and dignified social settings, Anne Cathrine bit her lower lip slightly. She looked out to sea, tugging fitfully at her head scarf. _What the hell is it with the head coverings, anyhow? It's nice weather, not really too windy, and—_
Anne Cathrine looked up at him again, smiling through a slight frown. "So, how did your find your first conversation with Henrik Bjelke?"
Eddie almost started at her tone: measured, serious, possibly concerned. "Um . . . fine."
"I am glad, Eddie. Very glad."
"You sound as if you were worried."
"About Bjelke? No, not particularly. I very much doubt you have to worry about him. He is still an outsider at the Danish court, and too young to threaten you. Much."
"'Much?'" Eddie echoed. He hoped it hadn't come out as a surprised squeak.
Anne Cathrine turned very serious now, her very blue eyes upon him. "Dear Eddie, although this is a USE mission, conceived by the leaders of Grantville and given royal imprimatur by Gustav of Sweden, the majority of your commanders are Danish." She smiled. "Or hadn't you noticed?"
He grinned back. "Nope. Completely slipped past me. Past Admiral Simpson, too."
She lifted an eyebrow, curled a lip in a slow smile that Eddie associated with other places, other exchanges— _down, Eddie! down, boy!_ Then she was looking out to sea, again. "Joking aside, Eddie, there are ambitious men in this flotilla, men whose personal interests may not be well-served if you are _too_ successful."
"Me—successful? Wait a minute, it's not like I'm in charge of the flotilla. Heck, I'm something like the third rung down on the command ladder. Maybe less. It's hard to know how rank would play against nobility in this kind of situation. So it's not as if the success or failure of this mission is _mine_."
"Now it is you who must 'wait a minute,' Eddie. You may not have the highest rank, but everyone in every ship—and back home—knows this mission to the New World was your idea. Yours. Admiral Simpson was intent on going to the New World, yes. Such plans were already afoot, yes. But it was you put forward the idea of making it a reconnaissance and a ruse all bound into one mission. If this stratagem works, you will receive credit as its architect. At the very least."
Eddie scratched the back of his head, remembered that gesture probably didn't radiate a dignified command presence, and snatched his hand back down to his side. "Yeah. Well. Okay. So who are all these Danish guys with hidden agendas?"
"First, my love, they might _not_ have hidden agendas. That is the problem with hidden agendas: that they might or might not be there at all. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Well, sure."
"Excellent. So now, who first? Well, the commander of the task force, for one."
"Admiral Mund? He seems, um, barely communicative."
"And so he is, but that does not mean he is without ambition. He is a minor noble, although he does not flaunt his title. Which is probably just as well."
"Why?"
"Because he was granted a tract on Iceland." Anne Cathrine shivered. "It is not a very nice place to be a landholding noble."
"You mean, sort of like the Faroes?"
"Hush, Eddie! You must know that Father did not give you that land for any reason other than to furnish you with the highest title he might within the nobility of Denmark. And, I suspect, as an entrée to greater things."
"So I've suspected, also." He crossed his fingers, offered silent thanks to John Chandler Simpson.
She looked at him. "Then you are indeed learning the ways of these times, Eddie. Which is necessary, I am afraid. Now, the person you must be most careful of is Hannibal Sehested."
"You mean the guy who displaced the captain from his cabin on the _Patentia_? I met him at court, just this spring. Seems like a nice enough guy. Shrewd, though."
"He always has been a nice enough fellow in his behavior toward me, too, Eddie. But he is also, as you observe, shrewd, and history showed that he was shrewd enough to advance his fortunes in your up-time history's Danish government. Even though he made himself an enemy of the man who was to become its most influential member, Corfitz Ulfeldt."
"The guy who was a traitor, up-time?"
"Yes, the man who was to betray my father. And who would have married my sister Leonora in just over a year." Again, she looked over her shoulder at the shorter of her two "ladies," but this time the glance was both protective and melancholy. "Corfitz was already betrothed to her, you know. Had been since 1630."
"But . . . but she was only nine years old!"
Anne Cathrine nodded gravely. "Eight, actually. And here you see the fate of the daughters of kings who are not also full princesses. We are objects of exchange, no less than we are objects of Father's genuine love. He arranges marriages that ensure the nation of secure bonds between the king and his nobles, since familial ties to the throne are craved above all things by men of that class. And if, thanks to those ties between crown and _Riksradet_ , we all live in a time of domestic harmony, prosperity, and peace, then would we king's daughters not be ungrateful if we failed to consider ourselves 'happy'?"
Eddie mulled that over. "That's what I call taking one for the team. And doing so for the rest of your life."
"If by that you mean it is a sacrifice, well—I think so, too. Although many thought me ungrateful for feeling that way."
"Well, they can go straight to—okay, I know that look: I'll calm down." _Hmmm: calming down—that reminds me._ Eddie turned so his back was to Ove Gjedde. "So, while we're dragging out the dirt on the Danish upper crust, tell me: what do you know about Captain Gjedde? He's the one guy that the admiral and I couldn't find anything useful about. Seems he led the expedition to set up your trade with India, but after that, not much."
Anne Cathrine frowned. "I am sad to say that I do not know much more of him than that. I do know that Father respects him, but—well, Captain Gjedde is not an exciting man. As you have remarked to me several times on our journey thus far. And he is still recovering from wounds he suffered in the Baltic War. From fighting against your Admiral Simpson's timberclads, if I recall correctly."
_Oh. Well. He must really be a big fan of up-timers, then. Particularly the ones who had a direct hand in blasting his ship to matchsticks . . ._
Evidently, Anne Cathrine could read the expression on his face or was displaying an increasing talent for honest-to-God telepathy. "No, I do not think his reticence is caused by your being an American. He is more mature than that, and has seen his share of war. Like many older military men, he does not confuse the actions of following a king's order with the will of the men who must carry it out."
"Yeah, he looks old enough to have achieved that kind of perspective. What is he? Sixty, sixty-five years old?"
Anne Cathrine looked somber. "Forty-one."
"What?"
"He was always a somber, old-looking man, but his wounds from the Baltic—they drained him. He has not been at court since he suffered them, last year. But then again, he was never much at court. He doesn't enjoy it. And while Father respects his abilities, Captain Gjedde is not the kind of man that he takes a personal interest in. The captain excels at navigation and can predict the weather like a wizard from the old sagas. But he does it all quietly, calmly. Not the type of man to capture Father's often mercurial imagination."
"Not like young Lord Bjelke."
"No, indeed. And of course, Father's interest in Bjelke is also self-protective."
"How do you mean?"
"I mean that Henrik Bjelke was, historically, not always a supporter of my father or his policies. He could yet prove quite dangerous, I suppose."
"Really? Jeez, Rik seems like a pretty good guy, actually."
"Yes, Father thinks that as well. He just wants to make sure that history does not repeat itself. And so he has involved Lord Bjelke in his plans for the New World." She looked over her shapely, and surprisingly broad, shoulder to where Henrik was escorting the ladies on what promised to be a quick looping promenade to the taffrail and back to the companionway. "In fact, I think Father put him aboard for a very special purpose."
"You mean, to watch me."
Anne Cathrine's eyes went back up to Eddie's and he felt wonder, appreciation, and perhaps the tiniest bit of sadness in them. "Ah, you are becoming adept at our down-timer machinations, Eddie—or at least, at perceiving them. Which, as I said, is a positive thing. But still, even so, I hope you will always be—I mean, I hope it won't make you—"
"Jaded? Subtle? Snakelike in my new and sinister cunning?"
Anne Cathrine tried to keep a straight face but couldn't. She laughed softly and swayed against his arm for the briefest of contacts. "You—how do you say it?—you 'keep it real,' Eddie. For which I am grateful. And which is one of the many reasons I love you so. But let us be serious for one moment more. Young Lord Bjelke's history and eventual friendship with Corfitz Ulfeldt, in your world, caught my father's attention. So I believe he wants Henrik indebted to him, and yes, hopes to gain a loyal observer in the fleet, as well. But I think Papa has another purpose, as well."
"Which is?"
"Marriage."
"Marriage? Of Bjelke? To whom?"
Anne Cathrine looked over her shoulder again. "To Sophie Rantzau. Or maybe my sister." She frowned as she watched the two ladies in question finish their circuit of the stern. "I cannot tell."
"Huh," Eddie observed eloquently. "Huh. A military mission to the New World as a means of kindling a strategically shrewd shipboard romance? Your dad sure sees some odd opportunities in some odd places. Why not just play matchmaker at court, where he can meddle with the young lovers personally? Which, let's be honest, is one of his favorite pastimes."
Anne Cathrine smiled and swatted him lightly. "For which you should be very grateful, husband. Otherwise, where would we be today, had he not played the part of Cupid?"
"Where would we be? Well, let's see. I'd still be rotting in the dungeon with a crappy peg leg on my stump, and you'd be married to Lord Dinesen, or some other wealthy noble."
"Yes, who would no doubt be three times my weight and four times my age. So, I'm not sure which of our two fates would be more grim."
"Yeah, well, when you put it that way—"
"Trust me, dear husband, that would literally have been my fate. The marriage you helped me avoid when you were my father's prisoner wasn't simply a staged engagement. My wedding to Dinesen was a very real possibility."
"No. Your father would never have made you marry that—"
"Eddie, you keep mistaking what loving parents of your time consider wise actions, and what loving parents of my time consider wise actions. I am a king's daughter, and so almost a princess in stature within my own country. But much less so elsewhere, because in marrying me, a foreign throne will not have gained any formal influence—or potential of inheritance—in the lands of my family.
"And so I was not to be married off to a crown prince of one of the other courts of Europe, but wedded to a Danish nobleman. And who among those men had enough wealth and influence to be a _de facto_ dowry for my hand?" Her face hardened. "Old, ambitious men, most of whom spent their whole lives counting their money, counting their estates, counting the ways in which they might move one step higher in the nasty little games of social climbing that are their favorite sport." Eddie thought she was going to spit over the side in disgust.
But instead she rounded on him, her eyes bright and unwavering. "So you see, my darling Eddie, it is you who saved me, not the other way around." Her eyes searched his and he could almost feel heat coming out of them, and off of her. Her face and body were rigid with the intensity of passion that he loved to see, to feel, in her. When she got this way, she was just one moment away from grabbing and holding him fiercely, and what usually happened next—oh, what usually happened next!—
Didn't happen this time. Anne Cathrine seemed to remember her surroundings, looked away, readjusted her kerchief— _that damned kerchief! what the hell?_ —and stared out to sea. She pointed at the _Courser_ , now nearly two miles ahead of the _Intrepid_ and widening the gap rapidly. "That is the smaller of your steamships, yes?"
_Huh? She knows perfectly well that it is._ But all he said was, "Yes, Anne Cathrine. That's our destroyer."
"A fierce name," she said with a tight, approving nod. "And that one gun in the middle of its deck, sitting in its own little castle, is the most dangerous of them all?"
He smiled. "That little castle is what we call a 'tub mount.' The round, rib-high wall protects the gun crew from enemy fire, shrapnel, fragments. As does the sloped gun shield. The rifle can bear through two hundred seventy degrees and fire several different kinds of shells to very great ranges."
"It is the same as these guns on your ship?" She pointed to the two naval rifles on the centerline of the _Intrepid_ 's weather deck.
"Yes, but, umm . . . this isn't _my_ ship, sweetheart. It's—"
"Yes, I know. It's Gjeddes'. But he has let you run it, with the exception of the sail-handling, since we left the dock."
Eddie shrugged. There was no arguing with the truth.
Anne Cathrine was pointing over the bow. "And that sail up ahead, that is the Dutch-built yacht?"
"Yes, the _Crown of Waves_. A good ship. She's out ahead of us as a picket."
"I thought you have provided us with balloons to look far ahead, so that pickets were no longer needed?"
He smiled. "Pickets are always needed, Anne Cathrine. Besides, we don't want to use the balloons if we don't need them, and if the winds get any stronger, an observer could get pretty roughed up, to say nothing of damage to the balloon itself."
"I see. And the other ship like your _Intrepid_ —the _Resolve_ —that's her, falling to the rear?"
"Yes."
She was silent for a long time. "Your ships are so big compared to ours. Even compared to the _Patentia_ , the _Resolve_ is easily half again as long and half again as high, except at the very rear. And still—"
"Yes?"
"Eddie, should your warships have so few guns? I know up-time-designed weapons are terribly powerful, but if they should fail to operate, or the enemy gets lucky shots into the gun deck—" She stopped, seeing his small smile.
"Trust me, Anne Cathrine, we have enough guns. More than enough. It's more important that our magazine is big enough to carry plenty of excellent ammunition to keep our excellent guns well supplied. Which is the case."
She nodded and turned her eyes to the ship lumbering along beside the _Patentia_. "Not a very handsome ship, the _Serendipity_."
Eddie let a little laugh slip out. "No, she's not much to look at." The _Serendipity_ was a pot-bellied bulk hauler, with the lines of a bloated pink or fluyt. "But she's steady in a storm, and seven hundred fifty tons burthen. And we need that cargo capacity. So ugly or not, we're lucky to have her."
"Not as lucky as to have the _Tropic Surveyor_ ," countered Anne Cathrine with an appreciative smile and a chin raised in the direction of the last ship of the flotilla.
And Eddie had to admit that _Tropic Surveyor_ was a handsome ship, her square-rigged fore- and mainmasts running with their sheets full. The large, three-masted bark had a fore-and-aft rigged mizzen and twelve almost uniform guns in each broadside battery. Her lines were unusually clean, reflecting the first influence of frigate-built designs upon traditional barks. Her master, a Swede by the name of Stiernsköld, was known to be a highly capable captain who, if he had any failing, tended toward quiet but determined boldness.
Anne Cathrine's attention had drifted back to the _Patentia_ , however. "What are all those men doing on deck, and who are they?"
Eddie glanced over; he saw a growing number of men at the portside gunwales of the _Patentia_ , many pointing at the island peaks to the south, some nodding, some shaking their heads. Eddie smiled. "Those are the Irish soldiers who came up from the Infanta Isabella of the Lowlands."
Anne Cathrine frowned. "I still do not understand how mercenaries who have been in Spanish service for generations—"
Eddie shook his head. "I don't understand it either. Not entirely." _And what little I_ do _understand I can't share, honey. Sorry._
"Do you at least know why they are on deck there—and look, more of them are gathering at the rail of the _Serendipity_! What are they _looking_ at?"
The voice that answered was gravel-filtered and deep. "They think they are seeing their homeland."
Eddie and Anne Cathrine turned. Ove Gjedde was behind them, his eyes invisible in the squinting-folds of his weathered face. Neither had heard him approach.
"Their homeland?" Anne Cathrine repeated.
"Yes, my lady. Because the last week's wind has been fair, there has been some loose talk that we might sight the north Irish coast late today." He sucked at yellowed teeth. "That will not happen until tomorrow, sometime. But I am told that the Irish got word of these rumors. And as you may know, most of them have never seen Ireland, but were born in the Lowlands. Their eagerness is understandable." Gjedde made to move off once again.
Eddie offered a smart salute. "Thank you, Captain."
Gjedde returned a slight nod that was the down-time equivalent of a salute between officers of comparable rank, made a slightly deeper nod in Anne Cathrine's direction, and began slowly pacing forward along the starboard railing, hands behind his back.
Anne Cathrine stared after him. "He did not return the new naval salute, as per your admiral's regulations."
"But he does follow the rest of the regs. To the letter."
Anne Cathrine watched the spare man move away. "Captain Gjedde seems to grow more somber every time I meet him."
Eddie shifted his eyes sideways to his wife. "While we're on the topic of 'more somber' . . ."
Anne Cathrine glanced at him quickly, fiddled with her kerchief and tucked a stray strand of gold-red hair back under it. "I do not know what you mean."
"Sure you don't." If they had been alone, he would have put an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. "C'mon, Anne Cathrine, what gives? You're acting . . . oddly."
"I am not." At that particular moment she did not sound like her usual sixteen going on thirty-six. She just sounded like she was six.
Eddie smiled. "Uh, yes, you are. And what's with the head covering?"
Her hands flew up to her kerchief and she stepped away from him quickly. "Why? Has it come undone?" Satisfied that it was still firmly in place, she raised her chin and looked away. "There is nothing wrong. Nothing."
Huh. So there _was_ a connection between his wife's hinky behavior and the kerchief. "Anne Cathrine, honey, don't worry. Tell me what's going on. Let me help."
She looked at him, her eyes suddenly glassy and bright, then glanced away quickly.
_What? Has she lost most of her hair? Fallen victim to some strange depilatory disease particular to the high seas of the northern latitudes?_ "Anne Cathrine, whatever it is, it's going to be all right. Just tell me and—"
"Oh, Eddie—" She turned back to him and, oblivious to on-lookers, cast herself into his arms. "I'm sorry—so sorry."
"Sorry? About what?" He tried to ignore the fact that even through his deck coat and her garments, he could still feel his wife's very voluptuous and strong body along the length of his own. And in accordance with the orders given by the supreme authority of his ancient mammalian hindbrain, certain parts of him were taking notice and coming to general quarters. Well, more like standing at attention . . .
"Oh, Eddie, my hair! I should have seen to my packing, my preparations, myself. But in the rush to get everything aboard, and with all the last-minute changes—"
"What? Have you lost your hair? That's okay; we can—"
She pulled away from him. "Lost my hair?" She pulled herself erect. She might not have the title of a full princess, but she could sure put on a convincing show of being one. "Certainly not. But I—I neglected to oversee my servant's preparations. And now I, I . . ." She looked down at the deck, then reached up and tugged her kerchief sharply.
Eddie was prepared for anything: baldness, scrofulous patches, running sores, dandruff the size of postage stamps, medusan snakes—anything. Except for what was revealed.
Anne Cathrine's red hair came uncoiling from the bulky kerchief in a long, silk-shining wave that came down to the middle of her back. Eddie couldn't help himself: he gasped.
Seeing his expression, Anne Cathrine pouted. Her lower lip even quivered slightly. "I knew it."
"Knew what?" Eddie heard himself say. He was still busy staring at his wife's hair and trying to tell his lower jaw to raise and lock in place.
"Knew that you would be aghast to see my hair like this, without the curls. Oh, I tried, Eddie, I did. My servant forgot to pack the heating combs, and neither I nor Leonora—nor Sophie—know how to do our hair any other way. Commoners can make curls with wet rags, I'm told, so we tried that, but none of us did our own hair often." _Or at all_ , Eddie added silently, now quite familiar with coiffuring dependencies of noble ladies. "I have been trying since we left to keep some curl in it, or at least a wave, but this morning, we all agreed there was nothing left to try."
"It's beautiful," Eddie croaked.
Her smile looked broken. "You are a wonderful husband, to say that. But you can barely speak the words. I know the expectations of fashion, Eddie. And here you see the truth at last: I have straight, plain hair. No tumbling curls, not even a tiny ripple of a wave. Plain, straight hair."
He reached out and touched it. "Hair like fire and gold spun into silk," he breathed. "And in my time, that kind of hair was very much in fashion. Hell, I didn't think hair like this was ever _out_ of fashion."
She blinked. "So—you like it? You like my hair this way?"
Eddie gulped. "Oh, yes. I like it. Very much. Very, very much." He roused himself out of his pre-carnal stupor. "But know this, Anne Cathrine, the hair is not important to me. What's _under_ it is." He touched her cheek. "As important as the wide world."
Anne Cathrine's smile—shockingly white teeth—was sudden and wide. She caught his hand on her cheek and held it there. "Truly," she said, "I am the luckiest woman in the world."
"And a princess, to boot," Eddie added with a grin.
"A king's daughter," she corrected, and moved toward him again—
"Sail, sail on the port bow! Rounding the rocks, sirs. She's running before the wind!"
**_St. Kilda archipelago, North Atlantic_**
Eddie transferred Anne Cathrine's hands from him to the rail—"Hold on, Anne Cathrine, and be ready to take the ladies below"—and made for the stairs to the observation deck atop the pilot house. "Orderly?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Glasses topside, please. And call Mr. Bjelke back on deck. Smartly."
"Yes, sir!" The response was already dwindling aft.
As Eddie made his way up the stairs— _damnit, can't this leg go any faster?_ —he heard Gjedde's voice behind him. "No point in breaking your neck, Commander. Things do not happen quite so quickly in this century."
As Eddie thumped his prosthetic down upon the observation deck—another change from the _Hartford_ —he turned to offer a smile to the older captain, whose mouth looked a little less rigid than usual. It might have even had a faint upward curl at one side. If he hadn't spent so much time with Simpson, he might have completely missed that hint of a smile. _So, Gjedde_ doesn't _hate me. Either that, or he's hoping I'll get offed in the next hour or so . . ._
Eddie went straight to the speaking tubes, popped back the covers, and toggled the telegraphic command circuit. "Circuit test," he shouted.
"Tests clear," came the muffled shout from under his feet where the intraship telegrapher was stationed.
The orderly bounded up the stairs, passing a new-pattern spyglass to Gjedde, and holding a case out toward Eddie, who snapped it open and lifted out the precious up-time binoculars. The signalman hustled past with a hastily muttered _"Verlot!"_ and was immediately ready, pad to his right, left index finger poised on the telegrapher's key. "Comms manned, Captain Gjedde."
Gjedde shook his head. "You will make your reports to, and take your orders from, Commander Cantrell. He will direct this ship through her first combat."
Eddie turned, stunned, "What?"
Gjedde bowed. "Your command, Mr. Cantrell. Compliments of your father-in-law, Christian IV."
_Why that old son of a—_ "Then Captain Gjedde, I say three times: I have the bridge. What's the word from the foretop crow's nest? What manner of ship, flying what colors?"
After a pause, the report came back. "A carrack sir. Old design. Spanish colors."
_Spanish colors? Up here? What the hell were they—?_
Apparently, telepathy was a strong trait in the Danish; now it was Gjedde who seemed to read his mind. "Not so unusual. They supply the Irish with guns and powder, from time to time. Sometimes the Scots, too. There is no shortage of rebels against English occupiers up here, and Spain is only too happy to provide them with assistance."
Eddie nodded. "I understand, but why ever they happen to be here, it seems that they've seen us. They ran between _Crown of Waves_ and _Courser_ like they were waiting for that opening. I suspect they saw our smoke, peeked around the northwestern point of Hirta—at Gob a Ghaill—saw our flotilla, measured the breeze, and realized their only way to avoid us was to run before the wind after our advance picket had passed them, but before our main van drew too close."
Gjedde nodded, the visible slivers of his eyes sharp. " _Ja_ , that is how I see it, also."
"Very well. Signalman, relay this to intership telegrapher for immediate send. 'To Admiral Mund aboard _Resolve_. Message starts: Have spotted—"
"Sir," said the radioman, "incoming message from Admiral Mund."
_Well, speak of the devil_ —"Read it as you get it, Rating."
"Admiral Mund commanding _Resolve_ to Commander Cantrell, presumed to be in temporary command of _Intrepid_. Message begins: By joint order of Emperor Gustav Adolf and His Royal Highness Christian IV, I relinquish operational command of Reconnaissance Flotilla X-Ray to you for duration of first engagement. Stop. Awaiting instructions. Stop."
_Oh, so_ all _the heads of state are seeing if I have the goods when the shit starts flying. Well, no reason not to give them a good show_ —"Radioman, send the following under my command line. To Admiral Mund, on _Resolve_ : message received and acknowledged. Stop. To all ships: general quarters. Stop." He turned to see Bjelke pound up the stairs to the observation deck. Eddie gave him an order and a welcoming nod in the same instant: "Sound general quarters, Mr. Bjelke. Orderly, make sure our passengers understand that 'general quarters' means 'battle stations.' Only duty personnel on deck."
"And if they don't understand that, sir?"
"Then correct their misunderstanding. With main force, if necessary. No exceptions. Including my wife. Especially my wife. Is that clear, mister?"
"Very clear, _ja_ , sir!" And again the young orderly was off, with a rising tide of coronets and drums carrying him on his way.
Bjelke returned to his side. Gjedde watched from the rear rail of the observation deck. Eddie thought for a moment, then turned to the signalman, "Forward mount, get me range, bearing, and speed of the Spaniard. Then send to _Crown of Waves_ and _Courser_ : I need their precise heading and speed."
"What are you thinking, Commander?" asked Bjelke.
"That whatever the Spanish do or do not understand from having seen us, we can't let them escape and report. Just knowing that a flotilla of USE ships is on a course that would suggest a New World destination is bad enough. Anything else could be disastrous. They might have seen the smoke and presumed that one of our ships was on fire, or that we have whalers with us who were putting blubber through some of the new shipboard try-works. But someone with better information on the USE's activities is likely to figure that this carrack spotted our steam warships. Word of this encounter can not— _not_ —reach people with that kind of knowledge."
The radioman called out. "All messages acknowledged, except _Crown of Waves_. I think something is wrong with her radio-set, sir. Lots of lost characters. And they seem to be losing some of ours, too."
_Well,_ now _it's a real military engagement: we've got commo snafus._ So without the radio—"Send to _Courser_ : Radio on _Crown of Waves_ inoperable. Stop. Your position gives best line of sight and shortest range. Stop. Relay command signals to _Crown of Waves_ via semaphore and aldriss lamp. Stop. End of Message. New message to _Resolve_ starts. Drop to rear of formation. Stop. Remain at one mile distance. Stop. Deploy balloon ASAP. Stop. Maintain close rear watch. Stop. Message ends."
Bjelke's left eyebrow raised. "Rear watch, sir? A trap? Up here?"
"Traps are most effective where they're least expected, wouldn't you agree, Lieutenant Bjelke?"
"Aye, sir."
"So we eliminate that admittedly slim possibility first, then take the next steps."
Gjedde folded his arms. "And what steps are those?"
"To box the Spaniard in. Radioman?"
"Just received acknowledgment from _Courser_ now. Captain Haraldsen passes along word that Major Lawrence Quinn sends his compliments and will oversee technical coordination on that hull."
Eddie felt his heart rate diminish slightly. It was good to know the other—the only other—military up-timer in the flotilla was out there, lending a hand. The down-timers were competent, eager, and obedient, but sometimes, they just didn't get how all the parts of a steam-and-sail navy worked together. In all probability, the most important test during this shakedown cruise would not be of Simpson's new ships, but of the crews of his new navy. "Send Major Quinn my greetings and thanks. And have him relay this to the _Crown of Waves_ : set course north by northwest, paralleling the Spaniard. Course for the _Courser_ , the same."
"Speed, sir?"
"What God and sail-handlers will allow, radioman. We are not raising steam."
Bjelke made a sound of surprise. Eddie turned to look at him. "You can speak freely, Rik."
"Sir, I thought combat was exactly the time when you _would_ order steam. Is that not one of the main purposes of this cruise, to see how the steam ships fare in actual combat, under power?"
"Normally, yes, but this time, I'm worried about detection. If this ship is not alone then, trap or no trap, raising steam means sending a message to any and all of the rest of an enemy formation about where and _what_ we are."
The radioman cleared his throat politely. "Message from _Resolve_ , Commander."
"What does Admiral Mund have to say?"
"Sir, he points out that in order to deploy the balloon, he will have to clear his stern of canvas. And if he does so, if he slacks the sails on the mizzen and swings wide the yard to clear the deck for air operations, he will slow down and fall further behind."
"Send that this is not an operational concern. He'll still have better speed than either _Patentia_ and _Serendipity_ , whom he must remain behind and protect. More importantly, please remind him that decreasing his ship's speed makes it a better platform for the balloon. When you're done sending that, send to the _Serendipity_ and _Patentia_ that they are to crowd sail. I don't want them lagging behind too far, and stretching out our formation. And have the _Tropic Surveyor_ close on us as she is able, crossing our wake when we clear Gob a Ghiall."
"Aye, sir. Sending now."
Bjelke frowned. "You want the bark to the south of us, closer to the island?"
"Absolutely, Lieutenant. Because if the enemy has more ships behind that headland, I want to give them something to deal with while we bring round our rifles and teach them just how long our reach is."
Gjedde may have nodded. "And so, what will _Intrepid_ be doing?"
Eddie smiled and, by way of answer, waved Svantner over. "Lieutenant, do we have solutions for range, bearing, and speed of the Spaniard?"
"Yes, sir. Mount One has rechecked first findings and confirms the following with highest confidence: the Spaniard is now just under a mile off, making two and a half knots and heading north by northwest true."
" _Crown of Waves_ and _Courser_?"
"Now on parallel courses with the Spaniard, sir. _Crown_ is making three knots and a bit, _Courser_ is almost at six."
Eddie made a mental map plot. The Spanish carrack was in a tight spot. If she turned to either port or starboard, she'd be turning into the paths of faster, better-armed ships, and losing the wind in doing so. And since the ships boxing her in— _Crown of Waves_ to the south, _Courser_ to the north—could sail closer hauled and faster, their speed and maneuverability would be even less affected if they made a matching course change. He had the Spaniard straitjacketed. Now to shorten the chase—
"And our speed, Mr. Svantner?
"Five knots, sir. We can make a bit more if we steer a half point to port, and put the wind just abaft the starboard beam."
"Do so, but keep me out of a direct stern chase. I don't want to shrink the target profile."
"Sir?"
"I don't want to have to shoot straight up that Spaniard's narrow ass; I want a little more of his side to aim at."
"Aye, aye, sir!"
"Mr. Bjelke, send the word to Mount One: stand ready."
"At once, Commander!"
Gjedde unfolded his arms as Bjelke hurried down the stairs. "About fifteen minutes then."
Eddie turned. "I beg your pardon, Captain?"
"Fifteen minutes before you start firing. The range will have dropped to under half a mile, by then."
Eddie smiled. "Less."
Gjedde narrowed his eyes. "How?"
Eddie felt his smile widen. "I would be delighted to demonstrate, sir."
Gjedde crossed his arms again and frowned. "Please do."
Eddie gave a partial salute and turned to his First Mate. "Mr. Svantner, has the Spaniard reacted to our course change yet?"
"A bit, sir. She shifted course slightly to the north, keeping us at distance."
"But closing on the _Courser_ , yes?"
"A bit sir, yes."
"Then send to _Courser_ : change heading one point to port. Full sheets on the spencer masts. Give that Spaniard a reason to run the other way."
"Aye, sir."
Eddie turned—and caught Gjedde smiling. His face became stony in an instant. "So. You'll scare him into tacking. Each turn of which costs him time and momentum."
Eddie shrugged. "It's what you taught me, second day on ship. Seems like the right plan, here."
Gjedde nodded. "Seems so."
The radioman uttered a confused grunt, checked an incoming message a second time. "Sir, signal from the _Courser_. But it doesn't make sense."
"Read it, radioman."
"From Major Quinn, technical advisor aboard _Courser_ , to Commander Cantrell on _Intrepid_. Stop. Regarding course change. Stop. Aye, aye, Commander . . . Hornblower?" The radioman's voice had raised to an almost adolescent squeak. "Stop. Message ends. Sir, is Commander 'Hornblower' code, sir?"
Eddie smiled. "In a manner of speaking, rating. In a manner of speaking. Svantner?"
"Yes sir?"
"Tell me when that Spaniard starts to come around to port. As soon as he does, we'll crowd him from the south with the _Crown_."
Eddie checked his watch. _And in about ten minutes, we'll end the chase. For good._
Nine minutes later, Commander Eddie Cantrell called for the range.
After a moment's delay, the intraship communications officer piped up, "Seven hundred yards, sir."
"Mount One, acquire the target."
The intraship piped up so quickly that Eddie suspected he was in constant conversation with the mount's commanding officer. "Acquiring, sir!"
"Send word to load with solid shot."
"Aye, sir." A pause. "Gunnery officer requests confirmation on that last order: _solid_ shot?"
"Solid shot. Tell him we're not going to waste an explosive shell until we have a proven targeting solution."
"Solid shot, aye, sir. And Mount One reports a firing solution. Range now six-hundred-fifty yards."
_Perfect_. "Fire one round and continue tracking. Svantner, reef sails."
The wire-wound eight-inch naval rifle roared and flew back in its recoil carriage, smoke gouting out its barrel as a long, sustained plume. A moment later, a geyser of water shot up about thirty yards off the Spaniard's port quarter.
Eddie raised his glasses. He could see arms waving frantically on the deck of the carrack. While the Spanish had no idea exactly what kind of gun was shooting at them, it was a certainty that they knew it was like no gun they'd ever encountered before. And that it was also far more deadly.
"Reload," Eddie ordered as he felt the _Intrepid_ 's forward progress diminish, its sails retracting upward, "and adjust. Watch the inclinometer."
From where he stood, Eddie could observe the gun's crew go into its routine like one well-oiled machine in service of another. The handle on the back of the gun was given a hard half turn and the interrupted-screw breech swung open, vapors coiling out and around the crew. The cry of "swab out!" brought forward a man holding what looked like, at this range, a gargantuan Q-tip. He ran it into and around the interior, ensuring no embers or sparks remained to predetonate the next charge. Meanwhile, a half-hoist brought up the next shell—akin to a short, somewhat pointed bullet eight inches at the base and sixteen inches long—and the loaders swung it out of the cradle and into the breech, where another man promptly pushed it in until it was snug. Powder bags were loaded in next and then the breech was sealed while the second gunner inserted a primer in the weapon's percussion lock.
"Loaded!"
"Primed! Hammer cocked and locked."
"New firing solution," called out the chief gunner. "Right two, up one!"
The second gunner hunkered down; he made a slight adjustment to a small vertical wheel on the side of the mount, and another to a small horizontal wheel. "Acquired!"
The intraship pipe at Eddie's elbow announced, "Mount One reports ready, Commander."
"At the discretion of the gunnery officer,"— _watch the inclinometer more closely!_ —"fire."
There was a pause while the gunnery officer studied the levels that indicated roll, pitch, and yaw, and then he shouted, "Fire!"
The second gunner pulled the lanyard, and the long black tube roared again.
Eddie saw the shot go into the water only ten yards in front of the carrack's bow. And he also realized why the gunnery officer was always a fraction off on measuring the roll: because from his position on the deck, he could not watch the sea close to the _Intrepid_. Standing only seven feet higher, Eddie had a much better view. He could keep an eye on the inclinometer even as he read the proximal swells and troughs.
One of which was coming. The _Intrepid_ came off the crest of a two-foot riser, slid down into a long trough—and Eddie knew the inclinometer was going to be perfectly level the moment before it was.
"Fire!" he yelled forward over the weather deck at the same moment that the inclinometer showed level.
The eight-inch rifle spoke a third time as Eddie jerked the binoculars back up to his eyes—
—Just in time to see the shell tear into the carrack, just aft of its bow on the starboard side. Planks and dusty smoke flew up and outward—and, puzzlingly, from the portside bow as well. Which, Eddie realized an instant later, had been caused by the round exiting the hull on the other side.
The Spanish ship reeled, first to port, then tottered back to starboard, the bow digging into the swells heavily. She wasn't taking water, but it was possible that her stem—the extension of the keel up into the curve of the prow—had been damaged and her forecastle was starting to collapse, riven by the tremendous force of the shell. As the smoke began to clear and the human damage was revealed—bodies scattered around the impact point, others hobbling away, several bobbing motionless in the cold northern waters—Eddie barked out his next order through a tightening throat. "Load explosive shell. Maintain tracking."
He waited through the thirty seconds of reloading. The _Intrepid_ was now moving slowly, so her position was barely changing. And the carrack, which had already lost a great deal of her headway by being forced to tack back and forth in response to the harrying ships to either side, had been moving at barely one and a half knots before she was hit. And now, with her bow damaged and her crew panicking—
"Mount One reports ready."
Eddie kept his eyes just far enough from the binoculars to watch the inclinometer. "Fire," he ordered calmly.
Perhaps he had become so used to the sound and buffeting of the big guns that he didn't notice it. Or perhaps he was simply too fixated on the fate of the ship that he was about to kill. Either way, he could not afterwards remember hearing the report of his own gun. Instead, burned into his memory, in slow motion, was the impact of the shell upon the carrack.
There was a split-second precursor: a light puff of what looked like dust. That was the shell, slicing through the starboard corner of the stern so swiftly that it was inside the vessel's poop before the shock waves sent rail, transom, and deck planks flying in a wide, wild sphere of destruction.
But in the next blink of an eye, that was all wiped away by the titanic explosion that blasted out from the guts of the ship itself. The poop deck literally went up in a single piece, discorporating as it rose, bodies shooting toward the heaven that Eddie hoped was there to receive them. The mainmast, the rearmost on the two-masted carrack, went crashing forward, tearing the rigging down with her and stripping the yard clean off the foremast. Black smoke and flames spun up out of the jagged hole that had been the ship's stern, and the men on her decks were a moving arabesque of confused action. Some were trying to fight the fires, others were making for the rail, others were trying to give orders, several were trying to get her dinghy over to the port side. None of them were achieving their objective.
"Check fire," Eddie croaked. "Crowd sails and move to assist."
Ove Gjedde, as still and silent as a forgotten statue, now reanimated. Suddenly at Eddie's elbow, he asked, "Commander, you are planning to assist?"
Eddie stared at the men who were now in the water. Their cries were audible even at this distance. He nodded. "We have to."
Gjedde made a strangely constricted noise deep in his throat. "Commander, I do not wish to intrude upon your prerogatives—"
The radioman looked up. "Commander, message from _Resolve_. Coded urgent, sir."
"Read it, please."
"Aye, sir. Message begins. Admiral Mund of _Resolve_ to Commander Cantrell of _Intrepid_. Stop. Balloon at three hundred feet has spotted three, possibly four ships fifteen miles south of Gob a Ghaill headland. Stop. Heading is due north. Stop. Currently making slightly less than three knots. Stop. Awaiting instructions. Stop. Message ends.'"
Eddie could sense Gjedde standing uncommonly close to him. _He wants me to break off, but that isn't right. We can save those men_. "Send this reply, my command line. Message starts: to Admiral Mund, _Resolve_. Stop. Lead flotilla north by northwest on heading parallel to _Crown of Waves_ and _Courser_. Stop. _Intrepid_ will effect rescue operations and follow all haste. Stop. Secure balloon immediately to minimize possibility of enemy sighting it. Stop. Message ends."
Gjedde was frowning. For some reason, Eddie imagined himself as Bilbo Baggins at one of those moments when he had pissed off Gandalf mightily. Avuncular Gjedde continued to stare at him, seemed to be weighing his next choice of words very carefully.
Finally he began, "Commander, this is not wise. I must point out—"
"Commander Cantrell," the radioman muttered, "another message from _Resolve_. Again, coded urgent."
Eddie held up a hand to pause Gjedde, nodded at the radioman. "Go ahead."
"Message starts. CO _Resolve_ to acting CO _Intrepid_. Stop. First action is concluded. Stop. Command changes are now terminated. Stop. Secure from general quarters. Stop. Captain Gjedde resumes direct command immediately. Stop. Rescue operations hereby countermanded. Stop. Flotilla X-Ray immediately heads north by northwest true, at best speed of slowest ship. Stop. Compliments to Commander Cantrell for successful first engagement. Stop. Message ends."
Eddie was still watching the men struggling in the chill gray waters, saw that some of them seemed to be weakening already. Those who had been clustered around the dinghy got it into the water, where it promptly foundered. Probably some splinter or shrapnel had punched a hole in it and they had not noticed that damage in their frenzied attempt to escape their ship. Which was a prudent course of action: the carrack, her stern savaged as if some kraken of the deep had taken a vicious bite out of it, was settling back upon her rudder, and listing slightly to starboard. At the rate she was going down, her decks would be awash within the hour. And her crew—
Gjedde put a hand on Eddie's arm, drew it and the binoculars it held down slowly. "There is nothing to be done, Commander. If we stayed to rescue those men, the Spanish would see us before we could get away again. We must break off now, at best speed, to remain undetected. You must know this."
Eddie didn't want to know it, but he did. "Perhaps they'll be picked up by the Spanish then."
Gjedde didn't blink. "You know better than that, too, Commander. They may see the smoke or they may not. If they do not, it is unlikely they would come close enough to see wreckage or hear cries for help. And even if they do, it will be fifteen hours from now. There will be no one for them to rescue and few enough bodies to see, should they chance to come so close to the site of our engagement."
Eddie looked over the bow. Only three hundred yards away, now, the Spanish were struggling in the water, and the first were already losing the battle to stay above the cold gray swells of the North Sea. He nodded. "Aye, aye, sir. You're the captain."
Gjedde's eyes fell from Eddie's. Suddenly, he looked even older. Then he turned on his heel and began giving orders. "Mr. Bjelke, secure from general quarters and give orders to unload battery and personal weapons. I want no unnecessary or accidental discharges as we run from the Spanish. Pilot, set us north by northwest true. Mr. Svantner, pass it along to crowd all sail. There will be no rescue operations."
As the crew of the _Intrepid_ scrambled to set about their duties, Eddie noticed that the _Tropic Surveyor_ , which had been traveling under full sail the whole time, was drawing abreast of them. Lining the starboard gunwales were more of the Irish mercenaries, who peered ahead at the wreckage and the ruined carrack.
The Spanish, seeing the ships approach, called out for quarter, for aid, for mercy for the love of god.
As the _Intrepid_ passed them at two hundred yards off the portside, their cries were half swallowed by the sound of the wavelets against the ship's hull.
But the _Tropic Surveyor_ passed them at a distance of only one hundred yards to her starboard side. The Spanish cried out to the men lining her rail, perhaps seeing the facial features and even the tartans and equipage they associated with their traditional Irish allies.
But the Irish made no sound, and watched, without expression or, apparently, any pity, as more of the Spanish began to sink down deeper into the low rolling swells of the North Sea.
**_East of St. Christopher, Caribbean_**
Through the salt spray and dusty rose of early dawn, Hugh Albert O'Donnell compared Michael McCarthy, Jr.'s pinched, weather-seamed eyes with Aodh O'Rourke's pale-lipped scowl. The latter, staring at the balloon as it swelled up and off the poop deck, muttered, "You'd not get me to swing 'neath that bag o' gas." Then Hugh's lieutenant of eight years nodded to the up-timer beside him. "No offense to your handiwork, Don Michael."
"Don" Michael—whom Hugh had convinced, at no small expense of effort, to accept the honorific—simply shrugged. "No offense taken. I'm not riding in it myself. That's for young Mulryan, here."
Mulryan, an apple-faced lad with an unruly shock of red hair, nodded. "An' it's not so bad, O'Rourke. After the fourth or fifth time, yeh forget the height. Seems natural, 't does."
"To you, maybe," O'Rourke grumbled, and then moved aside as feet thumped up the stairs from the weather deck behind him.
Hugh swayed up from his easy seat on the taffrail as Captain Paul Morraine rose into view. He was followed by a taller, thinner man whose arrival resulted in an almost uniform hardening of expressions and veiling of eyes: Morraine's immediate subordinate, First Mate George St. Georges, was not a favorite with the Irish, nor with his own crew. Only Michael's expression remained unaltered. The two senior officers of the _Fleur Sable_ joined the group just as McGillicuddy, chief of the balloon's ground crew, set his legs firm and wide to help his men tug on the guidelines. Straining together, they drew more of the swelling envelope up toward them and away from the mizzenmast, the yard having been dropped to accommodate this process.
Morraine nodded at Hugh. "Lord O'Donnell."
Hugh nodded back. "You wish to have your mizzen back as soon as possible, Captain?"
The left corner of Morraine's mouth quirked. For him, this was the equivalent of a broad grin. "It is so obvious?"
Hugh smiled. "Well, yes. And sensible as well. But at a height of six hundred feet, we will see what lies before us and enter the channel between St. Christopher and St. Eustatia as fast and unseen as the wind that's rising behind us."
"Which I do not wish to miss, sir. Monsieur McCarthy tells me this is a swift procedure, yes?"
McCarthy shrugged, inspecting the billowing envelope. "It'll be aloft in fifteen minutes, up for ten, down in ten, deflated enough for you to remount your mizzenmast in another ten. So, forty-five minutes, barring mishaps."
Morraine nodded, nose into the wind. "Just in time, I would say. I want to be see the lights of Basseterre behind us by midnight."
St. Georges sniffed distastefully at the pitch-soaked combustibles already smoking in the hand burner that Tearlach Mulryan was readying. "I, for one, am worried that your observer will not see all the ships before us."
Mulryan raised a mildly contentious index finger. "Ah, but I will, sir. Six hundred feet altitude and this improved spyglass"—he tapped the brass tube in his rude "web gear"—"will show us the horizon out to thirty-three miles or so, and we'll see the top of most any masts at least ten miles farther out."
"So you have said." St. Georges sniffed again, this time at Mulryan's claim.
"And so we have seen in the trials we've conducted since leaving France," Morraine followed with a calm, if impatient glance at his XO. "However, we will want to keep your men below decks much of the time, now, Lord O'Donnell. In the event our reconnaissance is incomplete, or Fate forces an encounter upon us, it would not do to have a passing ship see our complement to be markedly greater than the expected crew of this vessel."
"Agreed, Captain. Point well taken. Besides, my men will be busy at their own tasks."
"Which shall be?"
"Sharpening their swords and cleaning their pieces."
Morraine's left eyebrow arched. "Indeed. I took the liberty of inspecting the armorer's locker after your men came aboard. All snaphaunces, even a few flintlocks. Expensive equipment, if I may say so."
"Say away, for it's true enough. But Lord Turenne agreed that it makes little sense to go to all the expense of mounting our expedition, and then arm the shore party with inferior firearms."
"It is as you say. But almost half were pistols and the new-style musketoons. Most uncommon."
"As uncommon as our task, Captain." Hugh leaned back against the taffrail. "We'll not spend much of our time at ranges greater than fifty yards, if my guess is right. So while we'll want the ability to pour in a few volleys, I expect we'll have little time or reason for serried ranks and maneuver. As I hear it, Pitch Lake itself is the only 'open field' we'll encounter. But there's plenty of bush to worm through. So I suspect most of the fighting will be quick and close."
Morraine nodded. "Reasonable. Let us hope you do not have much fighting to do, though. Sixty men is not many for such an enterprise, even on the sparsely populated islands of the New World."
O'Donnell nodded. "I agree." He smiled. "Perhaps you could convince Lord Turenne to send along a few more."
Morraine's lip almost quirked again. "Indeed. I shall mention it to him upon my return, perhaps over our first glass of wine."
Hugh nodded, let his grin become rueful. It was out of the realm of possibility that Morraine would actually ever meet Turenne, much less have the position or opportunity to suggest anything to the French general about operations here in the Caribbean. In addition to Turenne's being a phenomenally busy man, Morraine's appointment as the commander of the _Fleur Sable_ had been a somewhat delicate business, handled by faceless bureaucrats at the unspoken but clear promptings of Turenne's immediate subordinates. To have gone about it more openly would have been seen as undermining the naval court which had been well-paid to dismiss Morraine as a scapegoat for a young and thoroughly incompetent executive officer who just happened to be the son of an unscrupulous duke. Consequently, it was necessary that Turenne should never have direct contact with Morraine, lest both of them come under the scrutiny of that same duke, who, like most powerful men guilty of suborning a court, would spare no effort to ensure that the lies he had paid to be called "the truth" would not be revealed or revisited.
Morraine's point about a scant sixty-man force was true enough. It left Hugh O'Donnell no margin for error, no extra resources with which to cope with surprises, reversals, or just plain bad luck. But the other Wild Geese who had been scheduled to follow him down from the Lowlands had never arrived. According to Turenne's last message, Fernando of the Lowlands had personally forbidden their departure, pending a reconsideration of their contracts and oaths to Spain. It all sounded a little suspicious to Hugh, but that was several months, and several thousand miles, behind him now. He would have to make do with the men and resources he had, and hope for the others to come along in due course.
Morraine's version of a smile had faded. He looked at the expanding balloon, then at the seas over the bow. "Well, Lord O'Donnell, I shall leave you and your, er, 'ground crew' to your business. The sooner you are done here, the sooner we can be under way and finish this dirty business."
Hugh kept even the faintest hint of resentment out of his voice. "Dirty business?"
Morraine paused. "Lord O'Donnell, I mean no offense. As you, I am estranged from my country. And so I will not be happy until I may stand proud beneath French colors. I am no pirate."
"Indeed, and so you are not flying one of their dread flags."
"Nor am I flying the flag of France, Lord O'Donnell. And until I do, my loyalties and intentions must be considered suspect by all whom we encounter. So I leave you to your work, that we may both return to service beneath our nation's banners with all possible haste." He nodded a farewell.
As Hugh nodded in return, he considered Morraine's tight, craggy, and mostly immobile features. The Breton had a good record operating in the open waters off Penzance and Wight, and was patriotically eager to end his estrangement from the pleasure of Louis XIII. He was also clearly thrilled to have a cromster's deck under his feet. During her trials off Dunkirk, he had made eager use of her mizzen's lateen-rig, getting a feel for the _Fleur Sable_ 's maneuverability. He had demonstrated a keen appreciation of her comparatively shallow draft, and enhanced (albeit not extreme) ability to tack against the wind—operational flexibilities he had not had much opportunity to enjoy while serving in His Majesty's lumbering battlewagons. Hugh just hoped that, like countless commanders before him, Morraine did not overindulge his new enthusiasms during combat. War was a messy business, best approached by leaving wide margins for error and the unexpected.
Morraine's swift descent from the poop deck prompted St. Georges into a hurried attempt to follow, which was suddenly blocked by the balloon's uncoiling guidelines. As he sought clear passage, further obstacles obtruded themselves. Spools of down-timer telegraph cable and McGillicuddy's thick, powerful legs threatened to tumble him. Aggrieved, the third son of a wealthy merchant glared archly at the Irish earl. "I must pass, Monsieur O'Donnell."
Hugh found the make-believe-officer too ridiculous to be a source of offense. St. Georges' class paranoia was as thick about him as the smell of his abysmal teeth. Every time he addressed O'Donnell as "Monsieur" instead of "Lord," he seemed poised to gloat over the slight. "I must pass," St. Georges repeated.
Hugh smiled wider. "And you have my leave to do so."
St. Georges stared down at the tangle of cables, grabbing ground-crew hands, and McGillicuddy's tree-trunk legs. Pointing at the latter, St. Georges raised his chin. "I know nothing of your Irish military _customs_ , but in our service, this man must make way for me when I approach. You:"—he addressed the word sharply to McGillicuddy—"move! At once!"
Hugh had just decided that St. Georges was able to annoy him after all, when the aeronaut of the hour—lean and lively Tearlach Mulryan—jumped between them. He made his appeal with a lopsided grin. "Lieutenant St. Georges, the chief of our ground crew, McGillicuddy, regrets being unable to move aside, but he is hard at his duties. The equipment for the balloon is rather cumbersome and hard to control during deployment."
"Then he can at least show proper deference to his betters, and excuse himself."
"Sir, he does not understand French, and his English is imperfect. He is from a remote area of Ireland, and speaks little but Gaelic."
"Then use that tongue to acquaint him with my displeasure!"
Mulryan did so. McGillicuddy listened to young Tearlach's fluent stream of Gaelic gravely. Toward the end, the big crew chief brightened, looked up at St. Georges and smiled. _"Pog ma thoin,"_ he offered sincerely.
"What did he say?"
"'A thousand pardons.'"
"That's better." St. Georges marched briskly off.
Hugh turned carefully astern, looked into the brightening east, and did not allow his expression to change.
Someone came to stand beside him: McCarthy. "Okay, what's the joke?"
"Joke?"
"Don't give me that. You're wearing your best poker-face and the ground crew is about to split a gut. What gives?"
"Mulryan translated ' _pog ma thoin_ ' incorrectly."
"So it's not 'a thousand pardons?'"
"No. It's 'kiss my ass.' And by the way, McGillicuddy speaks perfect English."
Hugh glanced at Mike and saw the hint of a smile that matched his own. Then McCarthy shook his head and looked up at the dull blue-gray canvas swelling over their heads. "C'mon," he said, "let's go fly a balloon."
Hugh watched McCarthy snug Tearlach into the heavy flight harness. It was fundamentally just an extension of the gondola, which was itself little more than a tall apple basket. McCarthy, Mulryan, and the ground crew went through all the "preflight checks" that Hugh himself had memorized, having now watched the process a dozen times. But just as he expected to see the final, confirmatory thumbs-up, Michael tugged an old back-pack out of the port quarter tackle locker. From that bag, he produced a heavily modified and retrofitted metal contraption that might have started out as some species of up-timer lantern or field stove, now capped by a home-built nozzle-and-cone fixture. The only identifying mark was no help in discerning the purpose of the device. Near the base of the dark green metal tube, a legend was stamped in bold white block letters: "Coleman."
O'Rourke drew alongside Hugh and jutted his chin at the odd machine. "First time I've seen that tinker's nightmare."
"Me, too."
"And I've been on hand for almost all the development of the balloon, y' know."
"I know."
"And I don't think McCarthy shared this little toy with the French, m'lord."
"I think you're right," Hugh said slowly, watching as McCarthy tutored Mulryan in the simple operation of this new "toy," which, from McCarthy's overheard explanation, seemed to be an up-time auxiliary burner which could be used to extend flight time or gain further altitude.
McCarthy backed away from Mulryan and gave his customary benediction, which was, he had explained, a tradition among balloonists from his century: "Soft winds and gentle landings." And then he continued in a surprisingly fatherly tone. "Now don't be in too much of a rush. First, make a full three-hundred-sixty degree observation just to detect ships and other objects of interest. Then, conduct a close inspection of each before you signal its bearing, approximate range, and heading if she's under way. Then on to the next."
Tearlach was smiling indulgently at McCarthy's unaccustomed loquacity. "Yes, Don Michael, just the way you've told me. Twenty times, now."
"You ready, then?"
Hugh had the impression that Mulryan might have done anything to get away from stoic Michael McCarthy's unforeseen and unprecedented transmogrification into a nervous biddy. The former Louvain student nodded and smiled wider. The ground crew held tight the guidelines and then released their mooring locks with a sharp clack. Tearlach Mulryan started up gently, and then, with a whoop, surged aloft as the crew played out the lines.
Hugh stepped closer, craned his neck, and watched. "Well, Michael, in your parlance, the balloon is no longer in trials, but 'fully operational.' According to your history books, this is a historic first flight, is it not?"
Michael nodded. "First flight for an expressly military balloon, to my knowledge. Up-time or down-time." Then he looked almost sternly at Hugh. "And while we're on the topic of historic events, here's another: this journey to Trinidad will be your last 'flight' as an exile—the last flight that any Irish earl will ever have to undertake."
Hugh smiled at the optimistic resolve, but was a bit perplexed at the borderline ferocity with which Michael had uttered it. "From your lips to God's ear, my friend."
But Michael was looking at the balloon again. "First flight. And last flight. My word on it." He must have felt Hugh's curious stare, but he did not look over.
Hugh stood, arms folded, intentionally radiating avuncular pleasure and approval, as Tearlach Mulryan finished delivering his ground report. The details conformed to what he had relayed from his floating perch using the dit-dah-dit agglomeration of dots and dashes that the up-timers called Morse Code. The channel between St. Eustatia and St. Christopher was all but empty. One vessel, probably a Dutch fluyt, was in the straits but while Mulryan watched, she had weighed anchor and was now hugging the coast westward. She would soon have sailed around, and tucked safely behind, the leeward headland, probably on her way to the relatively new Dutch settlement of Oranjestad. This meant Morraine could begin his approach, and with a strong wind over the starboard quarter, make the windward mouth of the channel before sundown. If the breeze held, Morraine declared he'd stay close to the north side of the channel, running dark along the craggy southern headland of St. Eustatia in order to make an unseen night passage. Barring unforeseen encounters or tricks of the wind, he surmised that, by the middle watch, he'd be raising a glass of cognac to toast the dwindling lights of Basseterre as he looked out his stern-facing cabin windows. Pleased with the prospect of so undetected a passage and such an enjoyable celebration of it, Morraine nodded appreciatively to McCarthy, and disappeared down the companionway into the bowels of the quarterdeck, calling for the navigator and pilot to join him at the chart-table in the wardroom.
Mulryan watched the captain and his all-French entourage depart, and then sidled over toward Hugh and Michael. "My lords," he said with a quick look over his shoulder, "I may have broken our hosts' trust."
Hugh carefully kept his posture unchanged, casual. "In what way, Mulryan?"
"M'lord, I, um, edited my report."
"Did you, now?"
"Yes, m'lord. There's one ship I did not mention. She's directly astern, maybe forty miles, due east. Not much smaller than us, judging from what little I could make of her masts."
"Saw them against the brightening sky?"
"Aye, but not well. I checked her again when the sun came up." He looked at the overcast skies. "So to speak."
"And tell me, Tearlach, why did you choose to 'forget' this piece of information that I'm sure would have been of considerable interest to Captain Morraine?"
"Because sir, unless I am very much mistaken, she was putting up a balloon, too. A white one. Like ours used to be."
Hugh kept himself from starting. "Was it the same design as ours?"
Mulryan grimaced. "M'lord, that new spyglass is a wonder, and my eyes are as good as any in County Mayo, but forty miles is a long way by any measure."
Hugh smiled. "True enough, Tearlach."
"But—another ship with a balloon? What do you think it is, Lord O'Donnell?"
Hugh was considering how best to tactfully phrase his speculations when Michael shared his own—bluntly. "That, young Mulryan, is our master's eye."
"Lord Turenne? He sent a ship after us?"
"He, or Richelieu, almost certainly," Hugh confirmed.
"It only makes sense that he'd want to keep an eye on what we do," Michael conceded. Then, with a smile, "If he can, that is."
Tearlach cocked his head. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that ship can't have seen us today. She was easy for us to spot, silhouetted against the dawn while putting up a white balloon. But, from her perspective, we were against the western predawn darkness, putting up a blue-gray balloon. She didn't see us."
Hugh rubbed his chin. "So that's why you had our balloon painted only after we left Dunkirk. You didn't want Turenne to know you'd camouflaged it."
"Right, and that's why we were four days out before I started running test ascents over three hundred feet. As far as Turenne knows, one hundred yards is as high as we're rated to go. He'll have tried pushing that limit a bit himself, but not as aggressively as we have."
"And he won't have that little toy you gave Tearlach right before he went up."
McCarthy nodded. "Yeah, the boost from the natural gas burner doesn't last long, but it does give you a little extra height. Or time. Which are the edges we need. And by tonight, we'll be so far off, that he won't have any chance to catch sight of us again. Now, 'scuse me. I'm gonna show Mulryan here how to take care of my 'toy.'" And he took the natural gas burner from Tearlach's hands and led the young aeronaut back to the poop deck.
As they left, O'Rourke sauntered over from the rail.
"Heard all that?" asked Hugh.
O'Rourke nodded. "Every word."
"And what do you think?"
"I think McCarthy is shrewd. Maybe too shrewd."
"What do you mean?"
"I know that look, Hugh O'Donnell. You've misgivings of your own."
"But I'll hear yours first, O'Rourke."
"As you wish. So, the ship on our tail couldn't see us today. Bravo. But hardly luck, eh?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that McCarthy has had every step of this game sussed out from the start. From before we left France, it seems."
"And that's bad?"
"Not in itself, no. But why didn't he bring us into his confidence on all this earlier? Because rest assured, he's been playing this game of chess five moves ahead of the opposition, he has."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that he obviously foresaw that Turenne would send a ship after us. And so he saves some special tricks for our balloon, to make it more than a match for the one Turenne has. But in order to have those tricks at hand, he must have anticipated needing them much earlier. So, from the time he started working in Amiens, he must have been expecting that Turenne would be crafting a secret duplicate balloon off-site, even as he and Haas were constructing the original model."
"Strange, O'Rourke: having an ally with that kind of foresight sounds like a great advantage to me, not a source of worry."
"Aye, but that ally is an advantage only if he shares what he's seen from the peak of his lofty foresight, m'lord. And Don Michael, whatever his reasons might be, did not do so."
"So what are you saying? That he's not to be trusted?"
O'Rourke rubbed his thick nose with a flat, meaty thumb. "I wouldn't be saying so black a thing as that, m'lord. But if Don McCarthy is clever enough to keep important secrets from someone like General Turenne, then isn't it a possibility that he could be keeping important secrets from us, too?"
Hugh nodded and turned his gaze slowly to where Michael McCarthy was tutoring Mulryan, back at the taffrail. "Yes, O'Rourke, there is that possibility. There is definitely that possibility."
**_San Juan, Puerto Rico_**
Barto—the only name he ever gave out because it was the only one he had ever had—ate the third slice of papaya greedily and washed it down with a mix of rum and soursop. The musky taste of the latter mixed well with the local spirit's strong cane flavor. Speaking around the mixture in his mouth, he addressed his host. "So you've business with me, eh? Can't remember when a man in silk trousers had business with me. Now, silk-trousered ladies, on the other hand—" Had Barto's senior "officers" been present, they would have no doubt laughed on cue.
But tonight, Barto had no audience. He was alone with his host, Don Eugenio de Covilla, who now seemed to be attempting to suppress a disgusted sneer, as he had throughout much of the meal. But Barto suspected that his host's duty to Spain and Philip came before indulging in displays of repugnance. "Señor Barto, I most certainly do have business to conduct with a man of your—experience."
Barto leaned back, belched, studied the Spaniard. A minor functionary recently dispatched from Santo Domingo. A dandy who had probably been in fewer fights than Barto had warts (well, a lot fewer fights, by that count). But the Spaniard reeked of oils and silver, and while Barto had no need of the former, he had both a powerful need and lust for the latter.
Ironically, Barto's increased need of silver was a direct consequence of his corresponding increase in good fortune. His "free company" had grown prodigiously in just the past month. Three weeks ago, while drawing near shore at Neckere Island to take on water and any fruits they could find (scurvy having made yet another general appearance), Barto had come upon a sloop-rigged English packet in the throes of repressing a mutiny. Drawn by gunfire as a shark is drawn by blood, Barto quieted his men and commenced to run close against the far side of the headland at which the packet was moored. After putting his best boarders into his smaller boat—a shallow-hulled pinnace—he swept around the headland, the wind full at his back. He was on them in three minutes; the fight lasted less than half that time. He put the lawful owner, stalwart captain, and loyal crew to the sword—the whole lot weren't worth twenty _reales_ in ransom—and put the mutineers to work cleaning the deck and transferring stores and cargoes between this new hull and Barto's two others. With the mutineers added to his ranks, he finally had enough men to consider plundering a larger town, maybe one of the small English settlements just recently established in the Bahamas, or the Dutch enclave that was rumored to have returned to Saba. Such a raid would only swell his coffers slightly, but would at least quiet his crews. They were already restless and would soon make their displeasure known to him—in a most pointed fashion, if need be. So, since a full-scale raid would take more time to plan, a smaller intermediary action was required to tide them over and sate their appetites for both rum and blood. A nuisance, reflected Barto, but it was all part of a freebooter's life.
He belched again. "You invited me to dinner that we might talk. So now I've eaten your dinner. What have we to talk about?"
De Covilla smoothed his moustache. "The matter is somewhat delicate, Señor Barto. Do I have your word . . . hmmm, allow me to rephrase: is it understood between us that sharing this information would attract the special disfavor of His Imperial Majesty Philip of Spain?"
Barto smiled. He had thought that, having seized four of Philip's ships, he had already attracted quite as much of that imperial displeasure as anyone could hope for. But apparently he had been mistaken. "I understand. And I hope that His Majesty's representatives will realize that any past, er, indiscretions on my part regarding his shipping were matters of mistaken identity. Night actions, you see."
"Of course." De Covilla's smug smile indicated that he knew Barto never attacked ships after sundown. "Indeed, the representatives of my liege are not only willing to pay handsomely in silver, but to provide you with something else you might find of even more durable value."
"Which is?"
"Which is a letter of marque."
Despite his attempt at bored nonchalance, this so took Barto by surprise that he sat up. "A letter of marque, signed by—?"
"No less a personage than the captain-general of Santo Domingo, Don Bitrian de Viamonte."
Barto sneered. "Viamonte the Invalid? Really? He spent his years as governor of Cuba limping through the underbrush, building towers and forts to fend off, er, 'fortune-seekers' like myself. And now he is interested in hiring the very same free-spirited adventurers whom he meant to kill?" Barto snorted as he laughed into the dregs of his drink. "Perhaps de Viamonte's disabilities are not merely physical, hey?"
He had meant that insult to test de Covilla's mettle, to see if the young Spaniard had enough temper in him to burst through his almost effete courtly exterior. Barto was not disappointed. The well-groomed __hidalgo__ rose slowly, hand on his rapier. "You will mind your tongue, Señor. The captain-general may suffer from infirmities that the Lord Himself saw fit to inflict upon his body, but perhaps that was to better stimulate the growth of his keen mind and indomitable will. He determined to reduce Cuba's vulnerability to pirates. He achieved that, and evidently you are not so bold as to have personally tested the walls and militias he raised for that purpose. Now he is set upon hiring men for a special mission. He directed me to seek appropriate persons among the self-styled 'brethren of the coast.' I started with you. However, I am under no compulsion to confer the contract upon you, specifically, and so, if you continue your insolence, I will take my _reales_ elsewhere. And depending upon the severity of your further slurs, I may ask for the satisfaction of honor that must be demanded in response to your impugning the character and person of the captain-general. Am I clear?"
Barto smiled and lifted his cup. "Bravo. And I actually think you'd be foolish enough to play at swords with me, which you must know to be unwise. So you've a ready heart under that fine silken vest, I'll give you that. And so, to business."
Whatever de Covilla had been expecting, it hadn't been that. "Do you—do you _mock_ me, Señor?" His hand turned slowly on the pommel of his rapier.
Barto made his best sour face. "Mock you? I am simply speaking to you plainly and man-to-man, not like some lace-loaded grandee at court. Let me make my words plainer. You'd be a fool to fight me, but you know it, and are still quite ready to cross swords on a matter of honor. You've got _cojones_ , and that's what counts. Experience and age will furnish all the other necessary skills in good time. If you live that long. But that's not what we're here to talk about. So, I say again, to business."
De Covilla frowned, fiddled with his sword's hilt uncertainly, and then sat. "Very well, to business. I have offered silver and a letter of marque. Co-signed by the new governor of Cuba, no less: the field-marshal Don Francisco Riaño y Gamboa de Burgos. Whose name and martial reputation is known to you, I imagine."
In fact, Riaño y Gamboa's name was barely known to Barto, who had no idea what military glories might lurk hidden behind it. But de Covilla uttered it with the utterly reliable conviction of youthful loyalty, and so there might be enough truth in it to warrant credence.
But it wasn't the reputation of the governor or the money or the marque that commanded Barto's attention. Rather, it was the attractiveness of the offer. Or rather, the _excessive_ attractiveness of the offer, and the fact that the particulars were not presented up front.
Accordingly, the primary instinct of all successful pirates—wariness—arose in Barto, who frowned his mightiest frown. "Well, this is certainly a most intriguing offer. So far. But I have yet to learn what it is I must do for this handsome—eh, 'reward.'"
De Covilla sipped daintily at his glass of rioja. "It has come to our attention that a ship just recently arrived in the Caribbean will soon make landfall at Trinidad with the intent of taking, and holding, the land around Pitch Lake."
"What the hell for?"
"Does it matter? This banditry is an affront to Philip of Spain's exclusive dominion over the New World as per the Church's own _inter caetera_ , and so, it must be prevented."
Barto rubbed his chin. "Very well, but if you know where this ship is bound, and you have Philip's express orders to destroy it, then why not deal with it yourself?"
De Covilla pushed at his goat stew with his fork. "I did not say the orders came from Philip himself, nor that the intelligence came from Europe. Not directly."
Barto leaned his large, hirsute forearms on the table. "Let us speak frankly. I stay alive in this business because I avoid jobs that stink like old fish, and this is starting to smell that way. Make clear the job, the information, and the sources, or I must decline."
De Covilla seemed surprised, but also pleased. "Very well. Last year, a Dutch captain who has apparently started a colony in Suriname—Jakob Schooneman, by name—brought a young American to conduct a brief reconnaissance of the area around Trinidad's Pitch Lake. After a variety of further trespassings and pillagings in His Imperial Majesty Philip's colonies, they both returned to Europe. Some time ago, that same ship, the _Koninck David_ , returned and touched on the coast nearby San Juan, probably smuggling. That didn't stop some of her crew from wandering into town for a brief carouse, of course.
"When the _Koninck David_ 's assistant purser was in his cups, he told one of our informants that he had overhead this same young American being closely interviewed in Bremen last winter by a good number of his countrymen and unprincipled adventurers. Whereupon a number of this group determined to send a warship to Trinidad to usurp the region around Pitch Lake in order to sell its petroleum riches to the USE. We learned roughly when the ship was due and also that it would not head directly to Trinidad, in order to avoid the heavily trafficked transatlantic route that leads directly into the Grenada Passage, just off Trinidad itself. But more than this we could not learn."
Barto leaned back, folded his arms. So, he was already entering into an ongoing plot rife with treachery, secrets, and informers. However, those were supposed to be his area of special expertise. Accordingly, it made him nervous when the Spanish—or anyone—displayed equal facility with them. Largely because it meant that he might be the one surprised, rather than the one springing the surprise. But balanced against those risks were the incredible benefits to be derived from taking this job, and succeeding. He pushed down his misgivings, and breathed out slowly as he made his response. "So have any of your informers told you how this expedition intends to take, and _hold_ , a position on Trinidad? A single ship, even the largest, could not carry enough soldiers and supplies for a quick and lasting conquest."
"We have wondered this, also. But inasmuch as our forces are spread too thin to respond in a timely fashion, this may be precisely what these bandits are counting upon. They hope to have the time to fortify, consolidate, perhaps rally others to their banner while we collect the necessary forces, and authority, from Venezuela, Isla de Margarita and even our more distant colonial _audiencias_."
Barto rubbed his chin. "I have sailed near Trinidad in the past, but not recently. What are the conditions there?"
"They are most unfortunate, since our investiture of that island is indifferent at best. The governor is Cristoval de Aranda, who has held that post without any noteworthy distinction for four years. Indeed, his tenure is somewhat of an embarrassment to the Crown. He has been unable to substantively increase the size of his small colony, which is primarily engaged in the growing of tobacco. Which, it is reported, he then sells illegally to English and Dutch ships, rather than reserving it for the merchants of Spain."
Barto did not point out that it was well known throughout the Caribbean that Spanish ships almost never went to this all-but-forsaken possession of their empire, and that if Aranda didn't sell the tobacco to someone, he would soon be the governor of a ghost-town. Or maybe a graveyard, given the testy native populations on the island. Most of whom preferred any other European settlers over the Spanish. But Barto only nodded sympathetically.
"I suppose Aranda should not be made to bear all the blame himself," de Covilla temporized. "His fortifications are small, guns are few, and the size of his militia laughable. It may not total twenty men, all mustered. Indeed, when he was finally compelled to evict a pack of British interlopers from Punta de Galera on the northeast point of the island a few years ago, he had to appeal to the colony on Margarita Island to raise a sufficient force for the job. Pitiable. However,"—and here the young _hidalgo_ fixed a surprisingly direct and forceful gaze upon his dinner guest—"I am told that you, Señor Barto, have a significant force at your disposal, that you are immediately available, and that you specialize in swift, direct, and—above all—final, action."
"That I do, Don de Covilla, that I do."
"Excellent, because that is precisely what will thwart the plans of this new group of interlopers. So, to the details: how many men can you bring with you to Trinidad?"
"It depends."
"'It depends?' Upon what?"
Barto leaned far back in his chair. "It depends upon how many _reales_ you have to spend."
"I see. Well, how much would it cost to hire all of your men?"
Barto smiled. "All of your _reales_."
**_St. Eustatia, Caribbean_**
With the dawn silhouetting the culverins that jutted out aggressively over the ramparts of Fort Orange behind them, Maarten Tromp turned to look into St. Eustatia's wide leeward anchorage. Almost thirty-five hulls lay invisible there, except for the spars that stuck upward from them. _Like crosses in a water-covered graveyard_ , he thought gloomily, _Which is what this harbor will become, if we—if_ I _—fail to dance every one of the next steps correctly._
Soft movement behind him meant the only other man in the skiff, besides the combination steersman and sail-handler, had approached. "Should we take you straight to the _Amelia_ , Admiral?" asked Jakob Schooneman, captain of the Dutch fluyt _Koninck David_. A merchant, an adventurer, and now, quite obviously, a confidential agent for the United Provinces and possibly for the USE as well, Jakob Schooneman had been absent from the Caribbees for many months. He had made a northern passage back to the New World, touching at several places along the Atlantic coastline, searching for other Dutch ships that could be spared for Tromp's fleet: the last in this hemisphere flying Dutch colors after the disastrous Battle of Dunkirk, not quite two years earlier. Jakob Schooneman's success had been modest, at best.
Tromp nodded, not turning to face Jakob Schooneman, determined not to look him in the eyes until he could be sure of what the captain would see in his own. Tromp looked up at the sides of the hull now looming out of the charcoal-blue mists: the _Amelia_ , his fifty-four-gun flagship, and one of the few to survive the withdrawal from Dunkirk. He could still see her as she was during that perilous October flight across the Atlantic to Recife: her hull scarred and holed by cannonballs, most of her spars and rigging incongruously new because almost all of what they had sailed into battle with had been shot away or so badly savaged that they had to replace it as soon as they knew they were free of Spanish pursuit. Only the stout mainmast remained of the original spars, black with both age and grim resolve. Or so Tromp liked to think.
When he could discern the faint outlines of her closed gun-ports, he turned to the master of the _Koninck David_. "Thank you for coming to see me directly, Captain Schooneman. Your visit was most informative."
"Glad to have been of service, Admiral."
"Which we are happy to return. The lighters will be out with your provisions by noon. You are sure that none of your men wish shore liberty?"
Jakob Schooneman smiled crookedly. "'Wish it?' They most certainly do. I wish it myself. But circumstances dictate otherwise, wouldn't you agree, Admiral Tromp?"
Tromp suppressed a sigh as he looked into the purple-gray western horizon. "Yes, they do." Now close abeam his flagship, Tromp called up to the anchor watch. The ship above him was silent for the moment it took for the watch officer to stick his head over the gunwale, squint down and determine that yes, it truly was the admiral arriving before the full rose of dawn was in the sky. Then the _Amelia_ 's weather deck exploded into a cacophony of coronets and drums which rapidly propagated into the lower decks as well.
"Nothing like an unannounced inspection to set the men on their toes, eh, Admiral?"
"Indeed. And it is a serviceable pretext, today." An accommodation ladder was dropped down along the tumbledown of _Amelia_ 's portside hull. In response, the skiff's tiller-man lashed his handle fast and grabbed up a pole to bump against the fifty-four-gunner's planking, keeping them off. Tromp put out his hand. "Fair weather and good fortune to you, Captain. You have need of both, it seems."
Jakob Schooneman's lopsided smile returned. "I shall not deny it. And you, Admiral, the same to you."
Tromp nodded, prepared to ascend, thought _Yes, I need fair weather and good fortune, too. For all our sakes_.
Tromp was surprised to see lanky Willem van der Zaan waiting for him at the forward companionway. It was Tromp's wont—indeed, most officers'—to first head aftwards for their berths. But here was Willi, waiting at the forecastle, his cuffs rolled up neatly and pinned, even.
Tromp managed not to smile at the fresh-faced youngster's quick nod and winning smile. "You are up early, Mr. van der Zaan. And more mysterious still, you knew to wait for me here, at the other end of the ship from my quarters. Have you been consorting with sorcerers?"
"No, Admiral. Just watchful."
"You saw me coming?"
"No, sir . . . but I was standing the last leg of the middle watch and saw the fluyt that came in slow and quiet from the north. At night. Passing other ships at anchorage without a hail."
Tromp stared at Willem. "Little Willi"—what a misnomer, now!—had not just grown in mind and body, but subtlety. A year ago, he might not have come to such a quick and certain surmise that the incoming ship's quiet approach signified an ally wishing to make a brief, surreptitious visit. Instead, he would have reflexively sounded an alarm signifying that pirates were upon them under cover of night. "You are very observant, Willi."
"I am the admiral's eager pupil, sir. If I'm not mistaken, that was the _Koninck David_ , sir, wasn't it?"
"Mmm. And how did you know?"
"Captain Schooneman's rigging, sir. He's always ready to run as near to the wind as he can."
_Because he's often working in dangerous waters, gathering, or carrying, confidential information._ Tromp felt his smile slacken even as his pride in van der Zaan grew. _All of which you know, don't you, Willi? Knowledge is what brings childhood's end, and you are indeed Little Willi no longer. Which means that now, you will face the same duties—and dangers—as the rest of us. May God watch over you, dear boy, for from here on, my ability to do so will be greatly reduced._
They passed the galley. Urgent sounds of hurry that bordered on chaos spilled out.
"Early to be serving breakfast," observed Tromp.
"Turning out for the admiral," was the respectful correction offered by van der Zaan, as they passed. "I suspect the cook will be putting an extra few rashers of bacon on, today. Do you not wish to inspect?"
Tromp nodded. "Yes, but they are doing well to be about their business so smartly. I shall give them time to make good their special preparations." He turned to his young assistant. "Letting men succeed, particularly in a special task which they have taken up on their own initiative, builds their pride. Which builds their morale."
"Yes, Admiral," said Willi with a smile which also said, _As you have well and often taught me, and as I have well and fully learned_. After a moment, he added, almost cautiously, "You seem distracted, sir."
_If you only knew._ "Not at all, Mr. van der Zaan. I am simply quiet when I am most attentive."
"Ah. Yes, sir. Of course, sir."
_As you have well and often taught me, and as I have well and fully learned_
Willi followed Tromp to the next ladder down. "Where are we headed, sir?"
Tromp stopped, hands on either side of the almost vertical between-deck stairs that seamen called "ladders." He looked at the young man gravely; he knew that the moment he uttered their first inspection site, Willi would know what was in store, what kind of news had come in from the _Koninck David_ in the small hours of the morning. "The bilges, young Willem. We are going to the bilges."
Willem van der Zaan's eyes widened. Because he had not forgotten— _how could he?_ —Maarten Tromp's weekly litany about preparing for battle: "You check the ship from keel to foretop. You do it yourself. Meaning you start in the bilges."
"The bilges?" van der Zaan almost whispered, looking very much like Little Willi again.
Tromp just nodded and headed below.
Tromp was still trying to wipe the stink of the bilge water off his hands when he returned to the galley. The ship was in readiness—he had expected no less—and despite the long wait for action, she was well-caulked and her gear made fast with tight lashings and adequate dunnage. But the inescapable fact was that there was simply less gear than there should have been. Dry goods were low, as was cordage and canvas. They had managed to procure some through the intercession of Sir Thomas Warner, the English— _well, now state-less_ —governor of nearby St. Christopher. But sails came at quite a price, since Warner got the canvas via the occasional traffic from Bermuda. Wherever possible, Tromp and his fleet of almost forty ships had adopted local expedients in place of Old World manufactures, but good, reliable chandlery—to say nothing of nails, tools, and metal fixtures of all kinds—was not being produced in the Caribbees, or anywhere in the New World, outside the greatest of the Spanish ports.
Even rags, Tromp reflected, continuing the futile task of cleaning his hands with a towel already inundated with bilge water, even rags were rare enough commodities, here. What weaving the locals did was crude, and not suitable to all purposes.
"Shall I fetch you another towel, sir?" Willi asked as he peered into the evidently expectant mess.
"No use, Willi. Let's not keep the cook waiting."
The watch officers had taken advantage of the admiral's inspection of _Amelia_ 's orlop deck and stores to rouse the first watch out of hammocks and make for the galley, where the cook (one of the few that had all his limbs) had set about building his fires and preparing the food, all the while debating provisions with the purser, as usual. However, the moment the admiral entered, the men, regardless of rank or age, looked up expectantly, with the suppressed smiles of boys who've done their chores early and without being told to.
Tromp suppressed a smile himself, nodded to the cook. "Up early today, are we, Ewoud?"
Ewoud effected dour annoyance. "It is as the admiral says. These louts couldn't wait to fill their bellies today. Can't think why. Sir."
"No, me either," agreed Tromp, going along with the act. The men grinned. As had sailors from the dawn of time, they had a natural affinity for a quiet, firm commander who could enjoy and acknowledge a joke without becoming part of it himself. "What feast have you set on today?"
There was a quick exchange of glances—none too friendly—between the purser and the cook before the latter waved at the simmering pots with a hand that invited inspection. "Well sir, this morning I thought we'd depart from local fare, and—"
Tromp shook his head. "A nice gesture, Ewoud—and Mr. Brout," he added with a glance at the purser who had no doubt pushed Ewoud to use the Old World supplies, "but there are to be no exceptions while we are in port. Local foodstuffs only."
"But sir," Brout explained, hands opening into an appeal, "soon, even the peas will spoil if we do not—"
"Mr. Brout," Tromp let his voice go lower, less animated, and then turned to face the suddenly quiet purser, "I assure you, I have the spoilage dates of all our dry goods well in mind. And they do not worry me." _Particularly since, after today, we'll be finishing them up quickly enough_. "Do I make myself clear?"
Brout looked as though he might have soiled himself. "Yes, Admiral. Perfectly clear."
Ewoud was trying hard not to smile, and, satisfied, sent his young assistant—barely thirteen, from the look of him—scurrying to swap around the bags and casks of waiting food. "Tapioca and mango, then. Smoked boar for a little flavor." The mess-chiefs who'd come down from each group of mess-mates sighed. Tapioca and cassava crackers were the new staple of the Dutch navy. Such as it was.
Tromp looked over Ewoud's broad, sweat-glistening shoulders deeper into the galley and saw familiar bags and barrels with Dutch markings. _The last of the foodstuffs we sailed with, of the meals that we thought we'd eat until the day the sea swallowed us up instead._ Whether on the Dutch ships that had sailed into disaster at Dunkirk or on those moored in safety at Recife, there was little variation in the bill of fare that had been loaded into their holds before leaving the United Provinces of the Netherlands.
Each day had begun with bread and groat-porridge, and lunch had been less of the same, but usually with strips of dried meat and also a sizeable part of the daily portion of cheese. Sunday dinner meant half a pound of ham or a pound of spiced lamb or salted meat with beans. On Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday fish with peas or beans was on the menu. On Thursday it was a pound of beef or three ounces of pork and on Friday and Saturday it was fish again. But long before the food ran out, the beer was gone. Since it spoiled comparatively quickly, it was an early-journey drink.
Even before the disaster at Dunkirk, the admiralties of the United Provinces had also taken a page from the books of the up-timers, and citrus or other fruits had been part of the provisions on the way out, and then, were a high priority item to acquire as soon as landfall was made in the New World. Happily, that was easily accomplished. And if the transition from gin to rum had been strange, it was not unpleasant, and Tromp had to admit that it mixed with a wider variety of the local juices. Indeed, it turned a cup of soursop from a rather musky, acquired taste, into a delightful and reputedly healthful drink.
But what started as a few expedient replacements for Old World comestibles had now become a wholesale substitution of them, since the familiar foods of home had no way to reach them. It had been a month since Tromp had enjoyed bread made from anything other than cassava, and longer since he had any meat other than goat. But at least he had two full meals a day, which was more than could be said for the almost three thousand people who were his charges on St. Eustatia. And now, he would have to dip deeply into already-scant stockpiles of durable food—
"Mr. Brout, you are to be given the first helping of breakfast."
"Why—yes, Admiral. Thank you."
"Do not thank me. It is so you may go ashore as soon as possible. You are to requisition as much salt fish, smoked goat, dried fruit, and hard-baked cassava loaves as you can find. Tapioca for porridge, and beans, too."
"I am to 'requisition' it, sir?"
"Yes. We will settle accounts later." _If we're alive to do it._ "You are to return by noon. The supplies are to be loaded by nightfall."
"Admiral, that leaves me little time to negotiate for a fair—"
"Mr. Brout, you do not have time to negotiate. You will see that the holds of our ships are provided with three months' rations, at a minimum. You are to begin by calling upon Governor Corselles. He will have my message by now, and will accompany you to ensure the compliance of your suppliers." _And to watch out for your own profiteering proclivities, Brout_.
Whose eyes were wide. "Yes, Admiral. If I may ask, are we soon to weigh anchor—?"
But Tromp was already out the door and into the narrow passageway. He was halfway up the ladder to the gun deck before the raucous buzz of hushed gossip surged out of the galley below him.
Willi, at Tromp's heels, laughed softly.
"Something amusing, Mr. van der Zaan?"
"Yes, sir. Very much, sir."
"And what is it?"
"How an admiral of so few and such quiet words can work up so many men so very quickly."
Tromp shrugged and turned that motion into an arm-boost that propelled him up onto the gun deck with satisfying suddenness. Men who were hunched in whispering clusters came to their feet quickly. Over his shoulder, he muttered, "A man who yells does so because he is unsure that he is in command. Remember that, Willi."
"I will, sir."
Tromp, walking with his hands behind his back, nodded acknowledgments to the respectful greetings he received from each knot of befuddled seamen. However, his primary attention was on the guns. The last of the culverins were gone, as he had ordered. In their place were cannon, although one of those was only a twenty-two-pounder, or "demi-cannon." But each deck's broadsides would be a great deal more uniform now: another up-timer optimization that tarrying at their Oranjestad anchorage had enabled. Gone was the mix of culverin and cannon of various throw-weights and the occasional saker, and with them, the variances of range and effectiveness that made naval gunnery even more of a gamble than it already was.
He popped a tompion out of a cannon's muzzle and felt around within the mouth of the barrel. He found it sufficiently dry, and with a paucity of pitting that testified to the routine nature of its care. Salt water was a hard and corrosive taskmaster.
Admirably anticipating his next point of inspection, a gunner came forward at a nod from his battery chief and made to open a ready powder bag. Tromp nodded approval and turned to young van der Zaan. "Fetch Lieutenant Evertsen to find me here. He'll need to complete the inspection. Then make for the accommodation ladder."
"Why, sir? Are you expecting—?"
A single coronet announced a noteworthy arrival on the weather deck.
"Yes," Tromp answered, "I am expecting visitors. Now go."
Tromp looked up when, without warning, the door to his great cabin opened and Jan van Walbeeck entered. "You're late," the admiral muttered.
"I am more informed than I would have been had I hurried to be on time," retorted van Walbeeck with his trademark impish grin. He pulled up a chair and sat, heavy hands folded and cherubic smile sending creases across his expansive cheeks. Full-faced for a man of thirty-five, his jowls were apparently not subject to privations in the same way the rest of his now-lean body was. He, along with the other three thousand refugees from Recife, had narrowly avoided the specter of starvation over the past year. But somehow, van Walbeeck still had his large, florid jowls.
Tromp waited and then sighed. "Very well, I will ask: and what additional information did your tardiness vouchsafe?"
"I tarried on deck to exchange a few pleasantries with your first mate, Kees Evertsen. While there, a Bermuda sloop made port. Down from Bahamas, freighting our neighbors' sugar for relay to Bermuda. And as chance would have it, one of our most notable neighbors was on board."
Tromp frowned. By "neighbors," van Walbeeck meant the English on St. Christopher's island, which was already visible as a dawn-lit land mass out the admiral's south-facing stern windows. A "notable visitor," meant the person was not of the very first order of importance, so it was not the governor, Sir Thomas Warner himself. Indeed, the "Sir" part of Warner's title was somewhat in doubt. Technically, shortly before the League of Ostend arose, Charles Stuart of England had ceded all his New World possessions to Richelieu. Or so the French maintained. And it was probably close to, or the very, fact. The English crown's protest over that interpretation was, to put it lightly, muted. However, the popular English outcry over losing its New World possessions had grown intense enough to propel the already paranoid Charles into a dubious course of instituting loyalty oaths and a standing, special court for the investigation and hearing of purported cases of sedition.
So was Thomas Warner's patent of nobility still effective, his governorship still legal? Not under the aegis of English law, but until someone took the island from him, the dispute was pointless. And given how these uncertain times required his full attention and involvement in the well-being of his now isolated colony, Tromp would have been surprised had he been the visitor to St. Eustatia. But there was another likely candidate. "Lieutenant Governor Jeafferson?"
"Bravo, Maarten! Your powers of deduction are undiminished. It was Jeafferson himself on the sloop, which must have left St. Christopher's in the dark of the night to be here so early. And you know what that means—"
Tromp sighed. Jan van Walbeeck was arguably the single smartest, most capable man he had ever met, and he had met plenty of them. But his irrepressible ebullience—even at this hour of the morning—was sometimes a bit wearing for, well, normal people like himself. "Yes, Jan, I think I do. He's here to finalize and sign our five-year lease of the lands south of Sandy Point."
"Exactly. And thereby kill two birds with one stone: we get the arable land we need, and Thomas Warner gets the guards he wants. And frankly, we need to reduce the number of soldiers we have here on St. Eustatia."
Tromp laid aside his protractor and looked up from his charts. "And you feel certain this will not bring us into conflict with the French colony on the island?"
Van Walbeeck blew out his cheeks. "Who is certain of anything, Maarten? Indeed, who can say who will hold power over us, or these islands, when the lease is up in five years? But this much is true. The French had only one ship arrive last year, and that was before we arrived. As best we can tell, Warner's colony has grown to almost nine thousand, maybe more. The French have barely a tenth of that. So I think that it is unlikely there will be any trouble."
Tromp frowned. "So then, if that is true, I ask—as I have before—why is Warner so concerned with having our guards? What are we not seeing—and he not saying?"
Van Walbeeck nodded. "I think I have a little more perspective on that, now that our farmers and his farmers are talking with each other on a regular basis. Firstly, Warner has all his people gainfully employed, and most in food production of one sort or another. Would that we could say the same. So the same people who man his militia are also the only ones available to oversee the workers and the plantations."
"You mean, guard and drive his slaves."
"Maarten, I know how you feel about slavery, and I share those feelings, but these are the conditions as we found them, and the best we can do is work to change them. And it won't be easy, given the tales our planters are telling his."
Tromp stared at his charts, at the outline of St. Christopher's. "I can only imagine. Our decision to prohibit slaveholding has not made me a popular man."
"You? _You?_ " Jan leaned forward. "Maarten, you are not the president of the __Politieke Raad__. You don't have our planters screaming for your blood. Well, not so loudly as for mine, at any rate."
"And Corselles is still no help?"
"How can he be? I frankly feel sorry for the poor fellow. He arrived here with maybe two hundred and fifty souls, all of whom were assured that they will grow rich like the English planters. Which meant, in short hand, that they will own plantations and the slaves that allow the land to be worked at such a fabulous profit.
"And then, just a year after they arrive, we separately descend upon them like a horde of locusts, almost three thousand strong, ninety percent young or young-ish males, short on rations, and with our military leadership determined to eliminate slavery. Which was what pushed almost half of our farmers into league with their farmers."
Tromp nodded. "And this connects to Warner's want for our guards—how?"
Jan sighed. "Let us presume that he does indeed see that our survival may be the key to his, and vice versa. We are both without support from our homelands, albeit for very different reasons. But if we hang on to St. Eustatia long enough, we'll start seeing flags from our home ports. At that point, the advantage is ours. For Warner is a man without a country. So, while he still enjoys the advantage of being our breadbasket, he will naturally wish to enter into accords with us which will stand him in good stead when that balance of power shifts. And his power is in the food he makes, so he is not eager to have his overseers as his full-time militiamen. Food production will drop and with it, his fortunes."
Tromp looked up from the map. "That seems to track true, yes."
"Ah, but there's more, Maarten. He doesn't just want guards; he wants _our_ guards. Dutch guards."
"Why? Are we Dutch especially good at guarding things? Even things that do not belong to us?"
"No, but our guards operate under the aegis of our flag. So if the French try cases with them—"
"Yes, of course. Then there is an international incident. And since Warner is no longer in charge of an 'English' colony, he has no such protection of his own."
"Precisely. The only thing that gives the French pause about running Warner off the island is the question of whether or not they can physically achieve it. But if his colony's guards are our men, with the flag of Orange flying above, the French risk a war. And if there is anything we have an overabundance of in this area, it is soldiers."
"Yes, but Warner seems to be acquiring their services far earlier than he needs to. He has little to worry about from such a small French colony."
Van Walbeeck shook his head. "Except that the French colonists are not the direct threat. It is the dissent they have been successful at breeding among the English slaves, and some of the indentured workers from Ireland. And there is rumor that the French commander d'Esnambuc has been parleying with the natives as well. The Kalinago still want St. Christopher's back, you know."
Tromp stood. "Very well. So Warner wants our guards. When will the lease go into effect?"
"It will still be a few months, at least. Our people are eager to put the tracts around Sandy Point under cultivation, but it will take time to get them ready, to gather the equipment, to settle affairs here. And the same goes for determining which troops shall go."
Tromp shook his head. "Since we are so close—a morning's sail—there is no reason to make our forces on St. Christopher a fixed garrison. We shall rotate troops through the station, as we shall their commanders. I want our people to both know that island and to get a break from this one."
Van Walbeeck nodded enthusiastically. "Most prudent. And speaking of guards, I'm wondering if we shouldn't set up some special detachments of them here, too."
Tromp folded his arms. "You mean, here in Oranjestad? We already have greatly oversized guard complements on all our warehouses, on the batteries, the outposts, the—"
"We need them on the women, Maarten. Particularly the visiting English ladies."
"The ladies—?" And then Tromp understood. "Oh."
"Yes. 'Oh.' Maarten, there are fewer than four hundred women on St. Eustatia, out of almost three thousand persons, more if you count our shipboard crews. Most of the four hundred women are already married. And you have seen the effects, surely."
Tromp surely had. Brawls, drunken or otherwise, had been steadily increasing for six months. And however the causes and particulars varied, there was usually a common thread: it had started over a woman. It may have been that the woman in question had never spoken to, perhaps never even looked at, any of the combatants, but that hardly mattered. Like a bunch of young bucks in rutting season, any incident that could in any way be construed as a dispute over mating dominance resulted in locked horns. "What do you suggest?" he asked van Walbeeck.
"Cuthbert Pudsey."
"The English mercenary who's been in our ranks from Recife onward? A one man guard-detachment?"
"Maarten, do not be willfully obtuse. Of course not. Pudsey is to be the leader of, let us call it a 'flying squad' of escorts who will accompany any English ladies who come to call at Oranjestad. And given that it will be a merit-earned duty—"
"Yes. Perfect comportment and recommendations will be the prerequisite for being posted to that duty. With any brawling resulting in a six month disqualification from subsequent consideration. But really, Jan, you do not think our men would actually go so far as—?"
"Maarten, I will not balance the safety of the English ladies who visit—or perhaps, in the future, seek shelter with—us on my projections or hopes. We will assume the worst. And in the bargain, some lucky guards will come near enough to recall that ladies do, indeed, sweat—excuse me, _perspire_ —in this weather. That they are not such perfect creatures, after all." Van Walbeeck squinted as the light rose sharply on the table before them. The sun had finally peeked around the steep slope of the volcanic cone that was known simply as The Quill, St. Eustatia's most prominent feature.
"Hmm. It is still the scent of a woman, Jan. And in circumstances such as ours, that will only quicken their starved ardor."
"No doubt, and no helping it. But charged with protecting the English ladies, I feel fairly certain that our guards would more willingly die defending them than protecting me."
"Far more willing," drawled Tromp,
"While you are around," smiled Walbeeck, "I shall never lose my soul to the sin of Pride. You are my guardian angel."
Tromp grunted as he felt the sunlight grow quick and warm on the side of his face. "A more improbable guardian angel there has never been."
"And yet here you sit, wearing a halo!" Walbeeck grinned, gesturing to the sun behind Tromp. "Now, have you decided to stop serving coffee on this sorry hull of yours?"
"Not yet," said Tromp, who almost smiled.
Two hours later, the coronet pealed again. Tromp frowned at Walbeeck's sudden and serious glance at the rum.
"Just one swallow. For perseverance in the face of immovable objects and irremediable ignorance."
"Jan, don't reinforce our enemies' characterization of us."
"Whatever do you mean?"
"You know perfectly well what I mean. Our resolve in battle is too often linked to our bolting shots of gin just before. 'Dutch courage,' they call it."
"Well, I could use a little of that courage right about now . . ."
The dreaded knock on the door was gentle enough but felt like a death knell to Tromp. "Enter," he said, trying to keep the sigh out of his voice. He flattered himself to imagine that he had succeeded.
The group that entered was not quite as ominously monolithic as he had feared. There were friendly faces among those crowding into the _Amelia_ 's suddenly claustrophobic great cabin. Servatius Carpentiere and "Phipps" Serooskereken had been part of the _Politieke Raad_ at Recife, and early converts to the exigency-driven agricultural changes that they had brought to St. Eustatia. But Jehan de Bruyne, also a member of that body, had been diametrically opposed from the start, and remained so, now drawing support from original Oranjestad settlers Jan Haet and Hans Musen, whose expectations of quick wealth had been dashed by the arrival of Tromp's ships and slavery injunctions.
Respectful nods notwithstanding, Musen was quick to confirm both the purpose and tenor of this visit by the determinative civil bodies of the St. Eustatia colony. "Admiral Tromp, we are sorry to disturb you on this busy day—"
_—not half as sorry as I am—_
"—but we have just learned that you will be setting sail soon. Today, it is rumored."
Tromp shrugged. "There are always rumors. Please continue."
Musen looked annoyed. "Very well. Since no one seems to know, or is willing to say, when you might return, we must make an appeal now, relevant to upcoming matters of commercial importance."
Tromp had had cannon aimed at him with less certainty of fell purpose. "Yes?"
"Admiral, you have forbidden the acquisition of new slaves with which to work the plantations here on St. Eustatia—"
"—which we still protest!" Jan Haet put in archly.
"—but we presume that this would not apply to any farms established on land that is not Dutch-owned."
Tromp resisted the urge to grind his molars. _And damn me for a fool that I did not see this coming_. "Mr. Musen, allow me to prevent you from spending time here profitlessly. The rules that apply on St. Eustatia apply equally to any plantations you may put in place on St. Christopher's."
"But that is English land!" shouted Jan Haet.
"But under our dominion while we lease it!" retorted Phipps Serooskereken.
"Immaterial," countered Musen coolly. "The terms of use permitted on the tracts around Sandy Point were made quite explicitly by Lord Warner: use of slaves is expressly permitted."
Jan van Walbeeck smiled broadly, and perhaps a bit wickedly. "Then perhaps you are preparing to swear loyalty to Thomas Warner?"
The various combatants started at him.
"Because, logically, that is what you must intend."
Jan Haet, as ardent a Dutch nationalist as he was a slaveholder, rose up to his full height of 5'5". "I intend no such thing, and you know it, Jan van Walbeeck!"
"Do I? Here is what I know. Fact: Lord Warner may no longer be a lord at all. England has renounced claim to the land he holds and upon which his title is based. Fact: your actions are not constrained by what he permits, but by what this regional authority allows you to do, as a Dutchman, in this place and time. And you have been forbidden from acquiring more slaves. So unless you wish to renounce your citizenship in the United Provinces, what Thomas Warner permits you to do is secondary to what your government permits. And fact: swearing allegiance to Warner makes you men without a country and therefore invalidates you from working the leased land at Sandy Point, since that agreement exists solely between the representatives of the United Provinces and Thomas Warner." Jan Walbeeck smiled. "But of course, you can always become citizens of Thomas Warner's nation. If he ever declares one, that is."
Jehan de Bruyne had been frowning slightly at the deck throughout the exchange. "I will ask you to reconsider your ruling on slavery one last time, Maarten. I am not sure you understand the degree of dissatisfaction it is causing among our people."
_Oh, I understand Jehan. I even understand the veiled threat in your calm tone._ Tromp folded his hands. "Mijn heer de Bruyne, your own council, the _Politieke Raad_ , voted in support of this measure. And I remain unclear how you can conclude that a slave population poses no credible threat to our security here. You have only to look at Thomas Warner's experience. In the last seven years, he has had to struggle to maintain control over his colony. And why? Not threat from the Caribs: they no longer appear willing to try cases with him. No, his problems arise from resentment and rebelliousness among his slave population."
Musen sniffed. "That is because the French keep stirring the pot."
"That may even be true, Hans, but would we be immune to such trouble? The French see the English as interlopers; why should they see us any differently? Indeed, given the presence of our forces on the island, will they not consider us an even greater problem? Because once we arrive and provide both plantation and border security for Thomas Warner, they will have even less chance to displace him—and us. Unless, that is, we bring our own slaves, whom they would no doubt attempt to suborn as well."
Tromp leaned back and shook his head. "No. People who have no freedom have little to lose. When slaves are being worked to death, they understand quickly enough that soon they will also lose the last thing they value: their lives, and those of their families. At that point, it is only logical for them to risk the probable suicide of unarmed rebellion rather than continue toward the certain suicide of eventually dying of malnourished exhaustion in the fields."
Haet leaned in aggressively. "And then why are the Spanish so successful using slaves, Tromp? They seem to do well enough and get rich while doing it."
Tromp studied Haet calmly but very directly. "Because, mijn heer Haet, the Spanish are not hanging on by their fingernails, as we are. They are routinely resupplied, routinely reinforced, and routinely involved in ruthlessly squashing any hint of resistance in their subject populations."
"And the Dutch East India Company does no less. And thrives!" countered Haet.
Jan van Walbeeck spoke quietly and without any trace of his customary animation. "I have been to those colonies, Haet, have been among their slaves. Have seen, have _felt_ , the hatred for us in their eyes, in their gestures, in their quiet, patient watching. Are those Pacific colonies profitable? Yes, most certainly. Are they safe? Only so long as you have guns trained on the slaves, Haet. And one day—and it will only take _one_ day—we will be weak, or forgetful, and we will stumble. And they will slaughter us and drive us back into the seas which brought us like a curse to their shores."
Haet snorted. "So you prefer the natives to your own kind, van Walbeeck?"
"Haet, I don't have to prefer them in order to understand that their feelings about us enslaving them on their own land are identical to our feelings about the Spanish doing the same to us in the Netherlands. And you remember what we did to the Spanish when we finally got the chance."
Haet was going to speak, but swallowed whatever words he might have spoken.
Tromp exchanged glances with van Walbeeck. Good: the conversation had remained on a practical footing. The ethical discussions over slavery had long ago proven themselves to be emotional morasses which achieved nothing but the expenditure of countless, profitless, hours. And they invariably led to the slaveholding faction accusing their opponents of succumbing to up-time influence (often true) and, by extrapolation, being Grantville's lackeys (not at all true). Indeed, since adolescence, Tromp had been disquieted by the circuitous rationalizations his countrymen and others employed when resolving their Christian piety with their grasp upon the slaveholder's whip. But, as an admiral, his life had not had much direct involvement with such matters, or the resolution of such issues.
But here in a New World where the Dutch colonies were hanging on by a thread that only remained uncut because the Spanish had not yet discovered it, the domain of the military and the commercial had begun to overlap. With no help or even news coming from the United Provinces, all choices, all decisions made locally had a bearing upon all other local decisions. And so Tromp had been compelled to weigh both the practical and ethical burdens and benefits of slavery.
Van Walbeeck, having arrived in Oranjestad ahead of him, had been an invaluable interlocutor on the matter, and the smattering of copied up-time texts in his library had been the catalyst for their discussions and grist for much deep thought. Leaving Recife, Tromp had been leaning against slavery for practical reasons, which happily aligned with his largely unstudied ethical misgivings. But the past year at St. Eustatia had confirmed him in the belief that, just as he had felt it his duty to become a church deacon if he was to live a Christian life and not merely profess one, so too he could not truly call himself a Christian without also working to undo the institution of slavery.
Van Walbeeck turned mild eyes upon the gathered contingent of councilors. "Any other observations on the matter?"
The quiet, careful Servatius Carpentiere, shrugged. "There will be much unrest among the colonists, particularly since the _Politieke Raad_ approved your recommendation to prohibit raising tobacco." His voice was apologetic. One of Tromp's most stalwart supporters, Carpentiere was raising an issue that clearly had been pressed upon him by the colonists, but would certainly play into the hands of the admiral's detractors.
Musen lost no time wielding it as a rhetorical weapon. "You see, Admiral? Your own hand-picked advisers from Recife foresee problems with your decisions. First you prohibit the further acquisition of slaves. Then you urge the growing of cane sugar, which involves immense amounts of labor, in place of tobacco, which is much easier to grow and harvest. And which was why most of us came to Oranjestad in the first place."
Tromp nodded. "Yes. That is true. And when you came, tell me: what did you plan to do with the tobacco?"
Haet, not seeing the trap, blurted out, "Why, sell it, of course!"
"Where?"
"Back in—" and he stopped.
Tromp just nodded again. "Exactly. 'Back in the Provinces.' Or 'Europe.' It hardly matters where, specifically. The problem is that those markets are an ocean away from us here, and our own ports are unreachable, due to the Spanish. What few ships remain sheltered in smaller harbor towns are merely jachts which have no reason to brave the swells of the Atlantic. And even if they knew we still existed here, ready to trade, what of it? Yes, jachts are fast, nimble ships. But useless for freighting smoke or anything else in bulk. So tell me, mijn heer Haet, given the changes since you arrived here, where, now, would you sell your tobacco?"
Musen smoothly changed the footing of his side's argument to a less disastrous posture. "Even if that were to be true, Admiral—cane sugar? The most labor-intensive crop in the New World?"
"And the only one for which we have any local use," replied van Walbeeck. "What else would you grow for high profit? Cotton? The labor is almost as bad as cane but, again, there's the same problem: where would you sell that cotton? The fact that drives all our choices is this, mijn heer Musen: we no longer have access to markets. Our ships cannot come here safely, and we cannot spare any to undertake the equally perilous voyage from here to Europe. And what's more, any regular commerce between us and our homeports would only tell the Spanish—or others—where to find us, where to hunt us down and exterminate us.
"So we grow sugar. We may eat it ourselves, and we may make rum—which has local value even to the natives, in these parts. And which we may further refine into disinfectants and a flammable fluid. And if we cannot grow so much because we have no slaves? Well, first, we have no shortage of able-bodies without tasks to occupy them. And so we will learn that you do not need slaves to grow cane, and thereby set the pattern for creating a durable local economy which is not based upon slavery."
Haet looked as though he might spit. "I did not come here to work like a dog in the fields. I came here to get rich."
Tromp nodded. "Yes. But apparently fate had other plans."
Jehan de Bruyne rubbed his chin. "Or perhaps it is Maarten Tromp that has had other plans."
Tromp kept his head and voice very still. "I assure you, mijn heer, that being defeated by treachery at Dunkirk, and seeing the Dutch fleet reduced to three dozen hulls, was not any plan of mine. And it is that outcome—that and no other—which forces these changes upon us. You wished to be rich? Fair enough. I wanted to return home, to my wife and children. As do many of us who fled to Recife." He stood. "What men want is of little matter to the will of God and the hand of fate. I suggest we focus on a new want that we should all share: the desire to stay alive long enough for our own countrymen to find and succor us. Because that outcome is by no means certain." _By no means, indeed_. "Now, mijn heeren, if we are quite done, I have arrangements to make for the fleet. About which you shall be informed shortly. Good day."
The envoys from both the _Politieke Raad_ and the original colonists' Council nodded their way toward the door they had entered through. Van Walbeeck rose to go as well, but Tromp motioned him to stay in his seat with a down-waved palm.
When the rest had left, Jan cocked his head like a quizzical spaniel.
Tromp sighed. "Stay and hear what I tell the captains. Someone will need to report it to the _Raad_ and Council. And the rest of the colonists, too."
**_St. Eustatia, Caribbean_**
Maarten had expected the various captains he had summoned to arrive in bunches, being familiar with how the vagaries of currents and oarsmen made it nearly impossible to maintain perfect punctuality when calling a council aboard a single ship in the midst of a wide anchorage.
Nonetheless, just after the first bell of the afternoon watch, the coronet blew only two blasts, the second no more than a minute after the first. Five minutes later, the entire collection of summoned officers were asking Willem for admittance. As soon as the young officer put his head in the door, Tromp made a waving-in motion and spread out the charts he had prepared, the top one being a general map of the Caribbees and the Spanish Main. The precision of its outlines and scale marked it immediately and distinctively as a high quality copy of a map from Grantville.
Cornelis Jol—who was known to all his peers simply as Houtebeen, or Peg Leg—came stumping in first. Immediately after came the big Dane, Hjalmar van Holst, with a broad smile on his face. Although two more dissimilar men would be hard to find, he and Tromp had taken an immediate liking to each other in the years before the disaster at Dunkirk. And that relationship had evolved into personal and political support of the admiral on more than one occasion over the year just past.
After that came his nominal superior, Dirck Simonszoon Uitgeest, who was considerably older and was as taciturn and spare as van Holst was gregarious and expansive. He, and one other attendee, young Pieter Floriszoon, had been in Recife when Tromp arrived. All the others—Klaus Oversteegen, Johan van Galen, and Hans Gerritsz—had escaped from the disaster at Dunkirk. Willem nodded the gentlemen in, then bowed to the admiral, halfway back out the door as he did so.
Tromp shook his head. "Willem. You are to join us and take notes. But fetch Kees, first. If something should happen to me, he must know the role the _Amelia_ is to play in the action to come."
Willem looked like he had swallowed a pickled frog. "At once, Admiral," he croaked and rushed off to get Kees Evertsen.
There weren't quite enough chairs for everyone, but it didn't matter. Van Holst planted his feet, crossed his arms and looked ridiculously Norse and good-natured. Simonszoon had already slunk into a bench beneath the transom-spanning stern windows. There were seats enough for the others, but the room began to grow uncomfortably hot. That it was midday in the currently cloudless tropics did not help matters.
Tromp tugged his collar a bit wider and pointed at the map. "You've all seen one of these now, yes?"
Floriszoon leaned forward, admiring it. "No, Admiral. Not I. The precision is extraordinary."
"Yes. And quickly becoming universal. I would be surprised if the Spanish have not acquired their own copies. Although they are among the slowest to innovate in such ways. However, we must presume their charts are now as good as ours."
Van Galen looked eager. "So we sail against the Spanish? Finally?"
Tromp looked at Johan van Galen and reflected how the fleet's long period of inactivity made some men less aggressive, but made a few more so. For the latter, it was as if waiting to weigh anchor and sail into battle was some interminable itch that they simply could not scratch. "Some of us have been sailing against the Spanish all along. And their leader will begin by telling us of any changes he has encountered."
Peg Leg Jol thumped forward with a grin that he swept around at all the gathered captains, and hunched over the map with positively conspiratorial glee. The Spanish considered Jol an out-and-out pirate, and in that moment, Tromp had to work hard to remember that his countryman was, technically, still a "privateer."
"So, news from the Main, fellows. Hunting continues to be good there. Took a barca-longa just before coming up here. Shot it up too much so we had to give her to the sea, but there was a fine haul aboard."
"Gold?" asked van Holst loudly.
"Better than gold. Letters. She was a mail courier. From what we read, the Spanish are still spending the majority of their time arguing over regional responsibilities. The Cuban governor doesn't like footing the whole bill for general naval protection, the Armada de Barlovento, against pirates and privateers throughout the Antilles, whereas the viceroy of New Spain is unwilling to spend on more than his own _garda costa_ s—half of whom seem to be freelancing as buccaneers as soon as the Silver Fleet finishes touching their respective parts of the Spanish Main every year."
"Anything about us?" asked Simonszoon quietly.
"Only mistakes. Their entire focus seems to be on Thijssen's seizure of Curaçao. There's a lot of speculation that we met him there after abandoning Recife. The governor of Venezuela has been trying to gather ships together to mount a counterattack, but his colleagues in the other coastal _audiencias_ of the Viceroyalty of New Spain seem less than enthusiastic in helping him with that project. However, he has been gathering what forces he can in Puerto Cabello."
Klaus Oversteegen frowned. "Did you visit Curaçao yourself, then?"
Houtebeen Jol shook his round head. "No. Too close to the Spanish. But my sailing partner, Moses Cohen Henriques, roves nearer to their ports, since—having no Dutchmen aboard—even if they were captured, it wouldn't point the Spanish in our direction. He went as far as New Providence, where he made contact with Abraham Blauvelt, the famous 'explorer.'" Jol smiled. Blauvelt was not much less of a pirate that Houtebeen, truth be told. "So we got news from him, as well. All the attention of the Spanish Main, and even Havana, seems to be focused on Curaçao."
"That's good for us," observed Gerritsz soberly.
"Yes, but maybe not so good for Marten Thijssen," mused Jan van Walbeeck.
Tromp nodded. "True enough, but right now, we cannot help him—cannot even send word—without tipping our hand and calling attention to ourselves here." _Although we may be doing so soon enough, anyway_.
Simonszoon shifted from a mostly supine to mostly upright position. "Maarten, this is all very interesting, but you didn't bring us here to listen to Houtebeen tell us what he's already jabbered about in my great cabin when he's in his cups."
Jol smiled at Dirck even as he frowned. Simonszoon smiled back.
In that brief moment of silence created by their gruff camaraderie, Tromp discovered, and not for the first time, how grateful he was to have these two snarling sea dogs in his command. Both privateers with more a decade of experience, they had been the ones least panicked by the fleet's relocation from Recife to its tenuous safe haven on St. Eustatia. They had long experience with the vicissitudes of fate that shaped the lives of seamen, and the changing menu of perils it offered as its daily fare. Where Tromp's other captains had wrung their hands anxiously, these two had reached out their hands for another cup of rum and exchanged tales of the earliest days of Dutch colonization (the Spanish rightly called it "invasion") when danger and uncertainty had been _truly_ high. These days, they opined with slow, sage sips at their fermented cane juice, were just a bit unpredictable. Nothing to lose sleep over.
"Dirck's right," agreed van Galen. "We all know your purser has been in town from first light this morning, buying provisions for the fleet. And we've all seen a disproportionate amount of those supplies coming to the ships captained by the men in this room. So where do we sail, Admiral? North again? To take back St. Maarten?"
Tromp shook his head. "No. That would be the last place I would sail, right now."
"Why? When the puny Armada de Barlovento came nosing south from there last year, we boxed them in and sank all four ships."
"Yes, thanks to the watch post the admiral set on the high ground of Saba Island," Simonszoon pointed out with a slow drawl that signified that van Galen's simplistic view of that engagement was beginning to annoy him.
Tromp waved away Dirck's compliment. "Simple prudence. Any capable commander would have taken that precaution. But Captain van Galen, have you considered how very _lucky_ we were that day?"
"Lucky? Admiral, it was your skill and our naval superiority that won the day. We started with eight ships to their four and, thanks to the advance warning, had the wind gauge on them before they knew we were sailing the same ocean. And by the time they realized their predicament, the other three of our ships appeared on the leeward horizon, closing the trap. Those square-rigged Spanish apple-barges never had a chance."
Tromp had to glance at Simonszoon to keep him from commencing a low-voiced, laconical evisceration of yet one more nautical fool he was not willing to suffer gladly. "Mr. van Galen," Tromp said patiently, "I mean, have you ever thought how lucky we were _after_ the battle?"
Van Galen blinked. " _After_ the battle? How were we lucky after the battle? We won a clear victory and even—"
"You half-blind pup," whispered Simonszoon. "Have you never considered what must have happened on St. Maarten after those four ships failed to return?"
Van Galen's stunned silence—an expression of insult giving way to worried suspicion that he had missed a key piece of some naval puzzle—confirmed that he indeed had never considered such a thing.
Simonszoon acquainted him with the immensity of that oversight. "Then let me reprise the events on St. Maarten almost three or four weeks later, when, by any reasonable estimate, the Spanish on the island had to consider the under-equipped Armada de Barlovento to be missing. The commander there—Captain Cibrian de Lizarazu, if last word is accurate—no doubt picked up his goose quill pen and started a letter to his superior, one Captain-General Bitrian de Viamonte in Santo Domingo. In this letter, Lizarazu certainly reported the disappearance of the entirety of that puny Armada, and promised his continued vigilance for any sign of its return.
"But as months wore on, he could only report more silence, and ultimately he and Don de Viamonte considered the Armada de Barlovento lost and the matter closed. Except that then, we must assume that Don de Viamonte—whose physical infirmities and less than dazzling personality have never interfered with his ability to perform as one of Spain's most prudent regional administrators—no doubt sent word to Governor Gamboa in Cuba, along with a request to reconstitute the Barlovento. That worthy may or may not have initially agreed, but over time, it is hard to imagine that he would not ultimately concede to such an appeal. After all, how many times have four warships disappeared without a trace, unless they were engaged by a similar or greater force of adversaries? Pirates flee from strong adversaries, particularly a flotilla of them. So the thinking in Hispaniola and Cuba by early this year must have come round to entertaining the possibility that there is a rival power somewhere in the New World: a power that has reason to attack, and apparently seize or sink, four Spanish men-o'-war. And here's the lucky part, van Galen: they still haven't sent a reconstituted Barlovento south, to follow the path of the first. Because if they did, what's the first major island they'd come to after departing St. Maarten?"
Van Galen's eyes cheated sideways slightly to look at the outlines of Oranjestad.
"That's right, they'd come here. St. Eustatia. If the Spanish knew the problem was so close to their own holdings in Hispaniola and Puerto Rico, they'd waste no time exterminating us en masse. We're too close to the Flota's return route to Spain, too close to their silver pipeline. And too close to major ports that we could fall upon with little warning." Simonszoon leaned back, his dark eyes lusterless. "If you haven't given thought to all that, Captain van Galen, it's time you did. And while you do, consider this piece of extreme good luck: that Marten Thijssen's attack upon and investiture of Curaçao occurred, by blind chance, at precisely the right time to give the Spanish a completely plausible source for completely erroneous conjectures. Specifically, that the Barlovento must have run afoul of Thijssen's flotilla and been sunk. Otherwise, they'd have been looking out for another explanation. Meaning, us."
Pieter Floriszoon was still staring at the map. "Frankly, it seems impossible that they still don't know we are here. It has been a year since we arrived, almost three since Oranjestad was established, and they haven't once checked on what they claim to be their possession?"
Van Walbeeck shrugged. "This is not uncommon for the Spanish, Pieter. The Spanish haven't made landfall in the Leeward Antilles since they shattered the English and French colonies on St. Christopher's in 1629. They never even bothered to return to ensure that the English colonists who fled into the mountains didn't reestablish their settlement. Which they did. With a vengeance."
"Yet they must have word of the rebuilt colony. Its goods travel back to Europe, and its port is not unknown."
"Not unknown, yet almost never visited except by us. And the Spanish will hear less of those goods in Europe now. Charles the First has forsaken England's New World colonies and so has all but lost contact with his subjects—or former subjects—here. An English ship has no business in New World waters, these days. The French are said to be attempting to revivify their _Compagnie de Saint-Christophe_ to grow their colony on St. Christopher, but seem to have a hard time attracting the focused attention of their primary patron, Richelieu. So, except for the two buccaneers we intercepted last winter, who visits these waters anymore?"
"And the Spanish are not curious after losing the three ships they sent south from St. Maarten earlier this year?"
"I am sure they are curious, but Thijssen's attack on Curaçao does offer a likely explanation. Far more so than the proposition that the last Dutch fleet in the world lies lurking, almost immobile, in the Leeward Islands. And when it comes to the losses of their individual ships to Houtebeen and our other raiders, common pirates are a far more likely explanation. Or an opportunistic attack by the god- and king-forsaken English who still endure on Bermuda, Barbados, New Providence, St. Christopher's and Antigua."
Simonszoon muttered, "Some are in the Bahamas, now. On Eleuthera, mostly, if the rumors are true."
Tromp nodded. "I am half-ready to believe those reports. Without regular resupply from home, the English on Bermuda have the same problem we do: too many people and too little cultivated land. Only their crisis is ten times greater. They outnumber us here by at least five-to-one, and Bermuda is not particularly arable. Or furnished with larger neighboring islands, as we are. So of course the English there must strike out toward better sources of sustenance."
"Meaning the Bahamas," observed Gerritsz.
"Yes, and Eleuthera is the outermost of the islands, with good bays, but not much frequented by the Spanish."
"Even the bastard buccaneers of Association Island don't sail that far out, usually," commented van Holst.
"No," van Walbeeck agreed. "But do not expect that the English are going to Eleuthera to find food, so much as establish a gathering point for it."
Van Holst frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Eleuthera is more pleasant than Bermuda, but still not a particularly good source of comestibles. The richer islands of the Bahamas are closer in to the continent. My guess is that the English—well, I suppose they are 'Bermudans,' now—plan on using Eleuthera as a staging area. Their ships will fan out into the better islands from there, and return there as well. Then a different set of ships will convey the foodstuffs they've gathered back to Bermuda."
Simonszoon rose into a sitting position. "Very well. So we have been very lucky, and the English have the same problems we do. But that tells me nothing about why there are dry goods getting jammed into every open space on my ship's orlop deck right now."
"No, it doesn't," Tromp admitted, "but it was imperative that we all have the best current knowledge about what we know or suspect conditions to be in the Caribbean."
"Why?"
"Because in the event that any of your ships must scatter away from each other to survive, you must be able to act independently and wisely to save your crews, your hulls, and hopefully, make it back here to St. Eustatia."
The quiet in the cabin became absolute.
Van Holst nodded. "To where are we sailing, Maarten?"
Tromp removed the top chart. Beneath it was another, this one of the Windward Antilles and Trinidad. He pointed at the latter's large, almost squarish mass. "There." He paused. "At first."
"What does that mean, 'at first'?" Simonszoon almost whispered.
"It means I have annoyingly incomplete information."
"Information that came in with Jakob Schooneman of the _Koninck David_ , last night?"
"Yes. Here is what I know: a French ship was sighted by the _Koninck David_ some thirty miles southeast of this anchorage, heading due south. Cautiously."
"Cautiously? You mean it didn't want to be seen by us?"
"Perhaps. But more pertinently, it did not want to be seen by the ship it was apparently trailing, and so remained at a distance that allowed it to stay beneath the horizon from its prey."
Kees Evertsen frowned. "Admiral, it is rather difficult to shadow a ship once it is no longer visible. Hard to keep track of its course changes, I'm told."
Grins sprung up at Kees' profound understatement.
"That is true, Kees, but not if the following ship is flying an observation balloon."
Again, absolute silence. Several of the captains seemed to be trying to remember what that word even meant.
Simonszoon stood up, sauntered over to the map. "A balloon? How high?"
"Several hundred feet, at least, Dirck. Yet, at even fifteen miles, it would be less than a dot in the sky. You'd need to be looking at just the right spot, with a fine spyglass, to spot it."
Simonszoon nodded. "So even the tops of your masts could be well below the horizon and, with the balloon aloft, you could still keep your eyes on a ship ahead of you."
"Precisely."
"But why?" blurted van Holst loudly, "and how does Schooneman of the _Koninck David_ know that both these ships are bound for Trinidad, which I presume must be why we are now going there?"
Tromp felt his teeth lock together. _How indeed does Jakob Schooneman know what he knows? Indeed, his reports are not made up of facts but intimations, as if he either knows he is missing important pieces of the underlying story, or has been forbidden from revealing them._ "Hjalmar, you do know that the _Koninck David_ is the first ship from home to find us here, do you not?"
"Yes, which is why I rather expected that you were gathering us: to announce that we would once again have the help and succor of the United Provinces arriving in the coming months."
"I wish that was the news that I have. And I suspect something like that may be forthcoming. But what you do not know is that when last the _Koninck David_ was in these waters last year, mostly along the Spanish Main, she had an up-time passenger. One whose reports on the New World have apparently found interested ears back home."
The captains leaned in closer, like hounds on the scent.
"Among other things, Captain Schooneman bore a letter from Prince Hendrik's own chamberlain, indicating that the prince bade us listen carefully to the recommendations of the master of the _Koninck David_ , who had been acquainted with His Highness's interests and ambitions as they related to pending events in the New World."
When it was clear that Tromp had finished, Gerritsz jumped to his feet. "'Pending events?'" he almost shouted. "What kind of oblique nonsense is that?"
Simonszoon cut a sharp glance at his colleague. "The kind of oblique nonsense that _remains_ nonsense when heard by the wrong ears, Gerritsz. Ears that must not learn the secret intents and actions of our Provinces." Looking back at the map, Dirck put his hand beneath his chin. "And so, both Hendrik's 'interests' and this mysterious French ship lead Jakob Schooneman of the _Koninck David_ to tell us that we must go to Trinidad?"
"Yes."
"But Schooneman won't offer any further explanation or speculation?"
Tromp shrugged. "When I asked him that very question, he simply responded, 'You know I was on Trinidad last year, don't you?' I replied in the affirmative. He explained that he had touched the coast at Pitch Lake to take on some of the tar, and that there had been no Spanish in sight. Not a single Spanish sail was spied in those waters, in fact. And then he mentioned that he had been made aware of an up-time book that indicated that beneath the tar, there were vast quantities of oil."
Simonszoon almost smiled, turned, and collapsed back into the bench, half supine again. The other captains stared around. "Oil?" asked Oversteegen at last.
"Oil," affirmed van Walbeeck. "Which is of interest to the up-timers, and to any nation that hopes to adopt their technology. It is the best source of energy for their engines, if I remember correctly."
"You do," nodded Tromp.
Kees matched the nod. "Well, that explains the French presence then. They clearly have ambitions to adopt up-time technology."
"Yes, it explains the French, but whose ship are they following?" van Holst asked. "Up-timers?"
"That's unknowable at this point," said van Galen with a dismissive wave of his hand. "But we may be sure of one thing: it means that our presence here could be discovered soon. Within weeks, even."
Van Walbeeck perched his chin on his fist. "And how does the presence of the French ship return us to that concern?"
"Is it not obvious?" van Galen asked, either oblivious to or uncaring of the impatient glares his impolitic tone was earning. "This is the first French ship to even approach these waters since we arrived from Recife—or at least, since our arrival was known to the colonists on St. Christopher's."
"So?" asked Gerritsz testily.
"So what other friendly port does this Frenchman have in these waters? The French on Association Island are, from all accounts, lawless buccaneers. The so-called privateers who operate out of the tent-towns in the Bahamas and the Florida Keys are far away and would be more likely to seize the ship than help it." He thumped the table for emphasis. "No. When the French have concluded whatever skulduggery they are about, they will have to make landfall on St. Christopher's before departing the Caribbees. And from that moment, the candle that measures our remaining days of safety will begin burning down."
Simonszoon folded his arms. "Tell me, van Galen: have you received credible word that the French would send a fleet to expel us from St. Eustatia?"
"No," said van Galen, unperturbed by his senior's droll, facetious tone, "but why should the French not tell the Spanish that we are here? Or, better yet, use the threat of doing so to extort our cooperation?"
"Extortion to do what?" Van Walbeeck queried.
"Why, to help them drive Warner and his people from St. Christopher's. Knowing the French, I suspect they'd garnish the deal by offering to share the island with us. But I suspect they would only concede a tiny fraction of the lands they gained from displacing their hereditary English foes."
"Who, on St. Christopher's, no longer represent that hereditary foe."
"That's a mere detail. Hereditary foe or not, the French want St. Christopher's. And if this ship returns to Europe unable to effect that conquest now, they might be followed by a flotilla which can. Which would mean we'd have very large, and very dangerous, neighbors."
"So what do you recommend?" asked van Walbeeck.
"That we should be prepared to 'entertain' an offer to cooperate with the French in the matter of Warner and his people. If the French can take St. Christopher's without need of reinforcements, they might not summon a fleet. Not for a very long time."
Tromp simply kept staring at the map, and thought: _Van Galen is_ truly _piratical. Not on the superficial level of operations like Jol. No, he is too comfortable with what makes a man a genuine sea wolf: a ready embrace of duplicity and stratagems based on guile and deceit. I wish I could leave him back here, but I've got to bring him along. He's just the type who, unwatched, might go looking for trouble, find it, and bring it right back to our doorstep. I just wish he didn't also have a very good point about the French ship._
"That will be a matter for us to address when the time comes. And if it arises while we are still gone, then mijn heeren van Walbeeck and Jol will be available to make a suitable response."
Houtebeen Jol started. "You're leaving me behind? With the rest of the fleet? Maarten, surely you must—"
"Captain Jol. I am leaving you behind. But not with the fleet. That's not the place for you."
Jol's injured expression began to shift into a blend of shock and rage. "Why, I'm twice the captain of any—"
"Jol," Tromp said calmly, "I can't afford to tie you down to _any_ fleet. Not the one I'm sailing with, and not the one I'm leaving here under the command of Joost Banckert. I need you to keep doing exactly what you're doing: being our ears and eyes in the wider Caribbean. Because, if any Spanish should happen to decide to venture in this general direction while we are gone—"
At which words, Peg Leg Jol held up a hand and nodded. "Yes, Maarten. I understand. I don't like it—but I understand."
Tromp hoped that Jol did understand the full import of his responsibility to St. Eustatia now. Yes, he had to keep Jol at his specialty—a rover—and had increased need of his ability to gather intelligence along the Spanish Main. But if Tromp failed, or worse yet, did not return, then the thin but crucial trickle of supplies that Jol's raiding provided would need to be expanded, and quickly. If the Dutch lost the ten fighting hulls that Tromp was taking south, the Dutch would, in the same act, have come to the attention of one or more foes. And sooner or later, that meant that the Spanish would seek the source of the destroyed ships, and attempt to reduce it by bombardment and blockade.
When it came to building up a reserve of munitions and supplies to endure such an eventuality, and yet to acquire them surreptitiously, Jol had no peer. He was a master at finding single ships before they detected him, shadowing them, closing during the night (no mean feat, and he was its master) and then attacking them early and swiftly so that, by midday, he had the prize in hand. If the ship was in good enough shape and a good sailer, he brought her back with a prize crew if he had the men to spare and the distance was not too great. Otherwise, he took what he could, spars included, and scuttled her. No fires: that could draw attention.
Which was always, of course, his most important objective: to leave the Spanish unaware of his depredations. As far as the viceroy of New Spain and the governors of his various _audiencias_ were concerned, these were ships that simply disappeared, as did so many others that sailed alone in the treacherous waters of the Caribbean.
The one difficulty with his operations had been prisoners. Not the presence of them—the Dutch only had three dozen under guard at Fort Oranjestad—but their paucity. Jol had taken eight large ships, so far. Almost all had crews that had been greater than twenty, some considerably more. And yet, only thirty-six prisoners. The Spaniards—indeed, everyone but the Dutch—had long considered Houtebeen Jol more of a pirate than a privateer, but even those detractors who labeled him El Pirata nonetheless grudgingly conceded that when it came to enemies and prisoners, Jol was a singularly humane and considerate fellow. And yet, only thirty-six prisoners.
In the past year, Houtebeen Jol's missions had not been for commercial gain; they had been for the survival of St. Eustatia. More than once, in the early days, widespread starvation had been narrowly averted by the timely return of Jol's twenty-two-gun _Otter_ , loaded with Spanish foodstuffs but without a single Spanish prisoner aboard. What could explain such ominously suspicious circumstances? Jol, who had always been an almost insufferably merry fellow, had grown quieter over that year, and did not volunteer an explanation.
To his shame, Tromp had not asked for one. Because, after all, what was the point of doing so? Jol had known well enough that the thousands of newly arrived refugees on St. Eustatia could not feed themselves, let alone prisoners. Furthermore, each Spaniard taken prisoner was one more escape risk, one more chance that someone would alert the viceroys that there was a credible challenge to their power in the New World, but that it was fragile and vulnerable and could be eliminated by a single decisive blow.
Simonszoon had risen. "So, no pirates in our fleet," He poked his friend Peg Leg in the ribs to lighten the mood. "And the rest of us? We're the fleet?"
"You and a few other ships."
Van Holst crossed his arms. "Which others?"
"The __Neptunus__ , the _Achilles_ , and the _Kater_."
Pieter Floriszoon, who commanded the most heavily gunned of all the Dutch jachts, the _Eendracht_ , nodded. "So I'm to be helping Captain Gijszoon of the _Kater_ , then."
Tromp looked slowly sideways at Floriszoon. "No, he will be helping you."
For a moment, the young captain's face was blank as he worked through the unexpected inversion of syntax. Then his eyes went wide as the implication hit. "But Admiral, Jochim Gijszoon is an old hand with coordinating the actions of jachts. The oldest, in fact."
"Which is precisely why I don't want him leading our scouting efforts. He is too valuable to put at the tip of the spear when we are maneuvering to secure the wind gauge." The gathered men nodded solemnly at this bit of wisdom that was only one half the real explanation, which they all implicitly understood from Tromp's indirect announcement of Floriszoon's promotion over Gijszoon.
Yes, Gijszoon was the oldest hand at leading the jachts, but was arguably slightly _too_ old a hand. Years made some men more bold because they became more certain of themselves and their methods. Not so Jochim Gijszoon. Ever since the news of Dunkirk had arrived, he had acted like a man haunted. He had lost many—indeed, almost all—of his old friends that day, and although his seamanship and leadership skills were undiminished, he had become increasingly cautious, to the point where he was unwilling to take necessary, or at least, advisable and advantageous risks. And if that was an unfortunate trait in the captain of a slower, larger ship, it was a disastrous trait in the captain of the smaller, faster jachts, whose job it was to scout ahead, lure targets to the main body, and out-race adversaries to secure the wind gauge for the rest of their fleet when battle was finally to be joined. The light cavalry of the seas, leading the jachts was not a job for the faint of heart or the skittish, and unfortunately, Jochim Gijszoon had become both.
With characteristically unflappable focus on the practicalities of an upcoming mission, van Holst looked up from the map. "So. We do not know what we must do at Trinidad. But surely Schooneman shared some hint of the _means_ whereby we may learn of the objectives that our ships are to pursue there?"
Tromp looked van Holst in the eye. "No. I do not have such information." He didn't give his captains time to formulate the questions he himself would already be asking—stridently—in their place. "I know how this sounds. I had the same reaction. But remember and consider the significance of this detail: the French are _not_ making best speed to Trinidad, but are _trailing_ another ship. Which sounds very much like Richelieu's _modus operandi_. Something is afoot which he wishes his men to observe, perhaps wishes them to take advantage of, but which he does not wish them to initiate themselves."
"Meaning what?"
"Meaning," Simonszoon put in, "that while Richelieu may be interested in Trinidad, Richelieu is not the primary actor. He is positioning himself to observe and react, not attack."
Van Holst threw out wide hands in exasperation. "But then whose flag _is_ taking action on Trinidad? The Spanish already own it. The French are observing, not acting. The English aren't in the game anymore. Our forces are too crippled to make such a move. So who's left? Who is moving on Trinidad?"
"Who wants oil the most?" mused van Walbeeck.
The gathered captains exchanged glances as van Holst asserted. "The up-timers, the USE. As I conjectured."
"And you might well be correct. Let us not forget that this news comes to us via Jakob Schooneman, who has coordinated with the up-timers in the past. But all this is still just guesswork."
Gerritsz shook his head. "All this obfuscation worries me."
Tromp nodded. "Me too, Hans. However, we may be sure of this: whoever is taking action on Trinidad either prefers, or needs, our presence there. And unless Schooneman is lying, Prince Hendrik prefers, or needs, us to be there also. So we go." He leaned away from the chart-table. "Not so different from the missions of our forefathers, after all. Sail into the unknown, lay hold of the opportunities that chance puts before us. Except this time, it seems to be a matter of certainty, rather than chance, that such an opportunity exists on Trinidad."
"Yes," agreed van Holst, "but these 'opportunities' are not going to be wrested from feckless, ill-armed natives. We are set to beard the Spanish lion in its den. And that lion is likely to resist effectively and tenaciously."
"That, too, is true," Tromp agreed, and restrained a quick, unbidden impulse to glance at Little Willi. Protective instincts died hard, and right now, they were shouting loudly in Tromp's ear: _leave him behind, here in Oranjestad! Don't take him into battle! Don't bring another innocent with you, only to be gobbled up by death's greedy maw while you escape those fangs yet again!_
But Maarten Tromp knew that trying to shelter him was futile. Here, in the New World, the saying had it that _there is no peace beyond the Line_ —the "Line" being the longitudinal divider known as the Tordesillas Line, west of which all territory was claimed by Spain. So there was no safe place for Willem van der Zaan in the Caribbean, and he might as well start learning the bloody trade into which he'd been born so that he had the best chance of surviving long and uncrippled. And at least he wouldn't be forced to do so under the command of a captain too rash, too timid, too uncertain to maximize the lad's chances of coming through that most difficult of all trials: the first battle. There, everything was new, and terrifying, and the novices died in windrows for one reason above all others: the shock that paralyzed them for one, fateful second. For in that second, as they stood gaping and horrified, they were easy targets for the grizzled veterans who knew that killing a neophyte now meant one less seasoned opponent to face later on.
Tromp looked around the room, where his own collection of grizzled veterans were already comparing notes on sailing conditions farther down the Caribbees and tactical contingencies for handling the different numbers and kinds of enemies they might face. They were, Tromp conceded, probably the very best grizzled veterans in the world.
But, even so, were they enough?
**_Overlooking Pitch Lake, Trinidad_**
For the second time that day, Hugh came to the crest of the northern lip of the bowl-like depression that cradled their objective. And again, as he looked down upon it, he wondered: _I left kith and kin for_ this _?_
Pitch Lake was wrinkled, its uneven folds sagging over upon folds in some places. It was as if an immense black peat bog had grown the hide of an elephant. The foliage around the bitumen expanse was low scrub, although on the modest northern overlook, it was mostly grass with a few trees bent sideways by the prevailing winds. The northern coast at their backs chased around to the west and then down south, the shore keeping a constant distance of about one-and-a-half miles from the tarry bowl. In the west, a forest rose up at about the halfway mark, whereas to the direct south and east, low grass and occasional trees crowded the lake more closely, rising into tall bushes and then true jungle canopy after only one hundred yards or so.
Hugh took in the total tactical picture. Good: this vantage point offered clear sightlines in all directions. And since this overlook backed on the north shore—the deepest water and closest coastal approach to Pitch Lake—it confirmed Hugh's first instincts. "We build the stockade here," he announced with a nod.
Morraine came to stand next to him. "Very good," he said. "But then, you hardly need my approval."
Next to him, St. Georges had his mouth open to object—
Morraine held up a hand. "I am in command on the sea; Lord O'Donnell commands on the land. These matters are his affairs. At most, we can offer our opinion and advice."
"Both of which I welcome, Captain."
"For now, I have none." Morraine stepped back with a slight inclination of his head. "I will leave you to your command, Colonel."
"Very well." And as he turned to address the challenges of this venture, Hugh had an image of himself waving one last farewell to Anna's grave-swallowed coffin. There would be little time for dwelling upon the past, now. He turned to the business at hand.
"O'Rourke, establish four watch posts. One near the north coast, overlooking the anchorage. One at treetop to watch the west coast, one to watch the edge of the eastern forest, one at the south compass point of the lake. All in brush, all under cover, all in direct line of sight to this spot."
"Signaling mirrors?"
"Yes, and double muskets for all. Three day-watches. But we'll pull the outposts in at night."
"No night watch in the outposts?"
"O'Rourke, are you familiar with these jungles?"
"No, m'lord."
"Well, neither are the rest of us. But our enemies are quite familiar with the lay of this land, and so any men we leave out during the night will never see their killers coming. And we won't know our lads are gone until they fail to signal at the appointed time, or we're under attack by those who killed them. Now, let's get those outposts set up."
O'Rourke agreed with a frowning nod and swung away, roaring names as he went. "Brown, Garvey, Finan, O'Halloran, Hanley—"
Hugh turned to Michael, who was studying the area intently. "Michael, would you mind supervising my engineer, Doyle, as we lay out the camp?"
Michael shrugged. "Sure. It's always better to have something to do."
Hugh looked beyond Michael. "And Mulryan, you assist. You, too, have nothing else to do until your balloon comes ashore with the stores."
"Yes, m'lord. What's the layout?"
Hugh smiled at the young fellow's ready, unpretentious confidence. Mulryan had shown the same broad aptitudes at the University of Louvain, under the Franciscans. They had pleaded with the lad to consider a professorial vocation to show his love of Christ, but as soon as he had been old enough, Tearlach had signed on with O'Donnell to show his love of country, instead.
Hugh knelt to draw a rough map in the dirt. "We'll keep the defenses simple: square palisade, one hundred feet per side. If the available wood permits, ten foot high, but no less than seven. Green wood only. Two foot of soil buttressing the base on the inside. Platforms at corners, another at the center of each expanse, two at the gate—one to either side."
Doyle was adding details to Hugh's dusty top-down schematic. "Where do you want the gate, m'lord?"
"Center of the south wall, on a straight line to the lake. We'll be hauling pitch up here, before long. No reason to put curves in the pathway. Get up the walls before you start on the buildings, Doyle. We'll make do with tents until they're up."
Michael looked at the diagram. "Buildings?"
Hugh drew a square in the center of the north wall. "From the main gate, a lane goes straight though the middle of the compound and ends at the back wall. That's where we'll want a small warehouse with double doors."
Hugh's engineer frowned. "A warehouse? Not a shed?"
"No, Doyle. I know it's much work, but we've got to have a few hard points inside the compound. The storehouse will be one of them. Now, to the west, or left, of the storehouse, we put light sheds for storing and servicing the balloon. We keep those as far back from the gate as possible."
Mulryan frowned. "Pity we can't conduct all the balloon operations from inside the walls."
"The interior space needed for laying out the envelope before and after flights is a luxury we can't afford, Tearlach. It would double the perimeter, and therefore, the walls we have to build."
Michael nodded. "Yep, sure would. Go on."
"The blockhouse goes on the other side of the lane from the balloon sheds. So it's toward the northeast, or right rear, of the compound."
Doyle goggled. "A . . . blockhouse, m'lord? With respect, the time it will take—"
"I know, Doyle, so get to work on it right after the palisade. And double-time it, man. Do the blockhouse's inner walls first, but prepare the ground for a second course of timber four inches out from the first walls—"
"—the space between to be filled with rocks and mud?"
Hugh turned to look at McCarthy. "Have you been studying 'ancient fortification' techniques, Michael?"
"Some. That's going to take a long time to build."
"To completion, yes. For now, I just want the outer walls, a solid roof with a low waist-works, and an observation tower."
Doyle made his voice ridiculously respectful. "Is that _all_ , m'lord?"
Hugh smiled. "We can leave the tower until last. We just need a light framework."
"Oh well, if that's all—"
"Doyle—"
"Pardons, m'lord. I'll just be checking now if I've any miracles left mixed in w' me pioneer tools."
"I'm sure you've got at least one in there."
"Without doubt, m'lord."
Hugh looked up as O'Rourke came back, florid, sweating heavily in his face. "Water, O'Rourke: drink lots of it. Starting right now. This isn't the Low Lands."
"With respect, m'lord, I've noticed."
"Then empty your canteen down your gullet. And after you do, get a water detail going."
O'Rourke nodded, then turned to McCarthy. "Don Michael, if I might look at your map, again?"
McCarthy handed him the map-tube, then kneeled to look more closely at the evolving layout of the stockade. "And what are you going to put on the south side of the compound, near the gate?"
"Tents for the men, huts when we get the chance to build them."
McCarthy scratched tentatively at the diagram. "I wonder: can I get a small work detail from the ship's crew? Just for a day or two?"
Hugh leaned closer to Michael, keeping his voice low. "That's problematic. As it is, it's awkward, having to keep St. Georges and his half-dozen men here. The fiction that they are our guests is unconvincing, at best." Then Hugh conceived of a strangely pleasant solution to the dilemma. "Michael, perhaps you can use St. Georges and his men, instead of a separate work detail."
McCarthy's answering smile was not pleasant. "Perhaps I can."
"And now I must ask—what do you need them for?"
Michael shrugged. "I've asked Morraine to demount two of his eight-pound sakers for the fort. I need to wheel them in, emplace them."
Hugh frowned. "To cover the land approaches, or the sea?"
McCarthy smiled. "Neither. Actually, what I had in mi—"
"M'lord," a new voice interrupted.
Hugh looked up. It was Kevin O'Bannon, softest foot in the regiment, and one of its best shots as well. He and a team of four had put ashore in a cat-boat at dawn, two miles east of Pitch Lake. Their mission had been to sniff out the natives who might be in the area and, according to most reports, kept a fairly constant eye out for trespassers. Hugh stood. "Good to see you back, O'Bannon. Your report?"
O'Bannon scratched his ear. "Sir, I—"
"A problem? Fast, man: tell me."
"No, m'lord. Not a problem. Not one damned problem. The opposite, in fact."
Hugh had been ready to hear, and respond to, any contingency—except this. "What do you mean?"
"No sign of natives, m'lord. At least nothing recent. We found one campsite, about a mile to the east. There were the remains of a small fire that had to be at least two weeks old, maybe a month."
Hugh frowned and considered. This was either very good news, or very bad news. If the natives had—due to disease, disinterest, or disputes—abandoned their unofficial coast watch of this area, then their absence was a stroke of extraordinary good luck. But if the absence was intentional, it might indicate that the _Fleur Sable_ had been seen approaching. Which, given her nighttime approach and dark running, would be hard to imagine. The other possibility, but even harder to imagine, was that their arrival had been anticipated, and the natives were merely hanging back for now. But either way—
Hugh clapped O'Bannon on the shoulder. "Good news or no, mystery or no, you've done fine work and we proceed as if you had seen the Arawaks in the flesh. Set watches and patrols as already assigned. If they're waiting for us to relax our vigilance, they'll have a long wait." He turned to Doyle. "Get your timber from the forest on the western shore, but all from the landward side."
"—because by taking trees from the landward side, passing boats won't see any changes to the forest there."
Hugh nodded appreciatively at Mulryan's foresight. "And so you also know when we'll use the balloon?"
Tearlach nodded. "At night only."
Doyle gaped. "And what are you to be seein' at night? Banshees? The moon?"
Hugh shook his head. "Actually, Doyle, we'll never go aloft when the moon is up. We could be spotted, then. But on the nights we do go up, we'll be looking for lights. On the water, lights show us the positions of ships, and on land, lights mark the presence of natives or Spaniards. Either way, there's a good chance we'll have warning the night before we have any daytime visitors."
Hugh looked around the group, waited. "Well? Am I going to have to build it all myself?" With the exception of Michael, the command staff fragmented outward, each fragment heading for a different cluster of waiting soldiers.
Michael watched them go, watched the different groups set about their assigned tasks. "They love you, you know," he said at last. "All of them."
Hugh looked away, to hide the emotion he felt welling up behind his eyes.
**_August 1635_**
In noble eminence enthroned
**_Southeast of Anegada Island, entry to the Caribbean_**
Eddie Cantrell was about to put down the water jug, then thought the better of his manners and tilted it toward his guest. Larry Quinn nodded, hand out to receive the pitcher as the younger man reached it across the slightly swaying table.
"It doesn't taste half bad," Quinn commented. "Particularly for desalinated water."
"The condensers are doing pretty well," Eddie admitted. "Which is good: the Caribbean is not a great place to run out of feed water."
Larry poured out a half glass of water. "Ironic. At sea, steam engines are just as vulnerable as humans."
"What do you mean?"
Larry leaned back in his chair and screwed his eyes closed as he apparently strove to find a distant memory. Which turned out to be a line of poetry: "'Water, water, everywhere, and not a drop to drink.'"
"Uh . . . Wordsworth?"
"Right poetic church, wrong poetic pew. Coleridge. 'Rime of the Ancient Mariner.'"
Eddie tried not to look crestfallen. He was supposed to be the book hound, not Quinn. But then again, although Quinn had read less deeply, he had read more broadly. In a bookstore, Quinn had been a wanderer, a browser, whereas Eddie's attention had been largely confined to the fantasy and science fiction shelves, with frequent forays into military history and relevant technology.
Apparently, Eddie's attempt to conceal his disappointment was not successful, although Quinn misread the cause. "Hey, so there's a little metallic taste to the water. I've had worse on camping trips. And lots worse when I went on maneuvers with the Reserves back in West Virginia. Overall, these ships are functioning just great. You should be really proud."
Now Eddie tried not to sulk. "I'll be a lot more proud when we get the bugs ironed out."
"Bugs? Like what?"
"Like the lower compression ratios we're getting out of the engines. That and the handmade brass fittings and pipe joints all mean less speed because we can't push the engines as hard. And those condensers you're raving about, yeah, they work, but they're finicky. And we've got higher-than-anticipated gear wear on every system that uses down-time alloys. I mean, the local fabricators have made huge, huge strides, but—well, let me put it this way: this may look like a nineteenth-century ship, but there's still a lot of semi-improved seventeenth-century technology under the hood."
Larry knocked back the last of the water, which was in marginally better supply upon the _Intrepid_ than it was upon the _Courser_ , the ship he had been assigned to. "Eddie, my boy," he said with a big-brotherly grin, "you worry too much. Which, truth be told, is probably why you're so good at this job."
"If I'm so good at this job, then why did we almost botch a balloon recon op again? We rehearsed it so many times on the crossing, but as soon as we get close to the Caribbean and the men see a sail—"
Larry put down his cup with a resounding, but not quite startling, clack. "Look, Eddie. There are going to be teething problems with everything on these ships. Everything. That's why they call it a shakedown cruise." He smiled. "It's a shakedown cruise for you, too. And you did just fine today. I watched you handle each new wrinkle like a pro. Not as calmly as an old pro, mind you—" his smile broadened "—but a pro, nonetheless. You saw how the change in the wind was going to produce updrafts that would also push the balloon in the direction of that Spanish ship right about the same time they came around toward our heading."
"And they may have seen us, you know."
"Hmm, really? The only reason _we_ knew they were out there was because we had a sky-guy up in your balloon, sending down Morse code updates of what he could see well over the horizon. So the Spanish _couldn't_ see our ships, and would have to be wizards to see our blue-gray balloon. And when you had us tack away to get leeward of them, that gave us all the speed we needed to slip off to the south. It also helped that you hauled in the balloon to counter the updraft, and got your pilot to keep his hands off the burner, even when he was sure the bag was going to deflate and plunge into the sea." Larry poured out another two fingers of the mechanically purified water and toasted his companion. "You were a steely-eyed rocket man—well, balloon man—today, Commander Cantrell. We got away and got our balloon under the horizon in plenty of time."
Eddie scratched his ear. "Thanks, but that's not what bothered me, Larry. It was the retrieval. It took twice as long as it should have. Damn it, I can't keep my fantail cleared that long if we're going straight from being a balloon ops platform into a combat platform."
"I think you're still overestimating the speed with which naval combat takes place in this century, Eddie."
"With respect, I don't think I am. Or, to put it another way, if my deck evolutions can't take place faster and more smoothly than today, we are undercutting our great advantage: tactical speed. Yeah, we can run rings around other sailed ships, but I can't start running those rings until my decks are clear for sailing operations and all my yards are free. Every minute I lose bringing them about to catch a breeze because I'm still reeling in and deflating a balloon is me pissing away my greatest advantage and giving my adversary a slightly more level playing field."
"Yup," smiled Larry, "you are absolutely perfect for this job. A born leader and man of action when you're on deck, and a born worrier before and after. Simpson would bust his vest buttons with pride if he could see you now."
Eddie smiled. "Ah, go to hell, Larry."
"Why, that's pretty much exactly where I'm heading this very afternoon. Louisiana in early summer? Southwest bayou country? Oh yes, hell. Which, in this case, is not blessed with a dry heat."
Eddie nodded and felt suddenly very alone. Larry was the only other up-timer in the fleet, unless you counted Ann Koudsi, who he never saw anyway. She had remained in the _Patentia_ for the whole Atlantic crossing, along with her drilling equipment and crew.
But Larry had been a pal and a confidante on the way over the Atlantic. They had compared notes on their respective ships—Eddie was always looking for failure patterns in the new machinery common to both hulls—and the incredibly polyglot population of the flotilla. They had joked, as only they could, about how the D-Day invasion must have been a bit like this, where there had been units of various nationalities mixed into the forces of Operation Overlord. Here, Danes vied with Swedes for the most common demographic of crewmen, but there was no shortage of Germans in the ships' troops and technical services, a few Dutch military types who remained closeted on the _Tropic Surveyor_ , and last but certainly not least, the almost four hundred Irish mercenaries who still claimed to belong to a _tercio_ based in the Spanish Lowlands. Had the mission planners been able to include a few Mongolians, Micronesians, and Kalahari bushmen, it would have started resembling a floating version of the UN.
But beyond the perspectives and routines the two up-time officers had in common—and the shared knowledge of why Quinn was along, and where the _Courser_ was ultimately bound—Eddie had found a genuine chum in Larry. Quinn was only a little bit older, and so became something of a big brother as Eddie struggled with the uncertainties and insecurities that come with a first command. Eddie had, prior to departing Luebeck, girded his loins to face these personal demons in silence and alone. That was part of command image, after all. But Larry had been a sympathetic ear, and his tales—many funny, several scandalous—about his time in the Army and Reserves, had reassured Eddie that he was not alone. Not alone as a new commander—Larry had been there before—or as an up-timer. Because, no matter how (often fiendishly) smart and insightful down-timers were, there was just no way for them to understand what it felt like to lead an expedition back to the continent and land that had comprised the country of one's birth some three and a half centuries in the future. He had been glad for the fellowship of another inadvertent time traveler and had not looked forward to the day when he would lose it.
But that day was today, and that time was now. Larry stood up, looked out the fairly humble stern windows of the _Intrepid_. "Well, it's about time for me to begin my role as master but not commander of the _Courser_. I wonder how the good Captain Haraldsen is going to like that bit of news."
"Since they're sealed orders with Gustav's signature and signet stamp on them, I doubt Olle will debate them much."
"Oh, it's not a debate I'm worried about," Larry said as he made sure all the items on his web-gear were snug and secure. "I'm worried that Olle, who's been a fine fellow up to now, might get his nose out of joint and dig his heels in at some point. I'd hate to have to pull rank formally and in front of the crew. I don't want to put him in that kind of situation, but I need to know he's going to take orders without delay. Being on our own, and far away from any friendlies, means we've got zero margin for error."
Eddie nodded, rose, and managed not to blink when Larry came to attention and snapped a salute, albeit with a shit-eating grin on his face. "Commander, request permission to debark and commence independent operations."
Eddie returned the salute. "Permission granted, and Godspeed, Major. And . . . I'll miss you, Larry."
Quinn, who had finished the salute and was already halfway to the door, looked back. "Now that's just an out-and-out lie, Eddie. You've got a twenty-four/seven job on your hands here, as well as a drop-dead gorgeous young tigress-wife who's sure to keep you busy the rest of the time."
"Yeah, well, even so, don't be a stranger. You miss a check-in and I will keelhaul your ass when you bring it back."
"Daily squelch-break, and a quick sitrep every third day, for as long as we're in range. My word on it, Commander."
"Do you think the crew has figured out where you're going?"
"Hell, I think the only ones who even know we're about to split off are the ones we told at the start of the voyage: Haraldsen and his XO. And I don't think it's dawned on Haraldsen yet that he can't remain in command of the mission because he doesn't have the right skill set to carry it out."
"It should be an interesting couple of hours when you get back and break the news, Larry."
"That it should. Take care, Eddie."
With a single long stride, Larry Quinn was out the door.
From Anne Cathrine's slightly padded chair in her sitting room (merely two lieutenants' cabins with the paneled partition removed), she watched as Larry Quinn swung energetically down the accommodation ladder to the yawl-rigged skerry that had brought him over from the _Courser_. His visit had been relatively short, and she watched him go with mixed feelings.
On the one hand, it was irksome that her husband clearly shared secrets with his fellow up-timer to which she was not privy. Not that this had been a surprise. Shortly after her marriage to Eddie, older ladies of the court had counseled her not to let such inevitable professional confidences bother her. After all, her husband was a military man with ties to three separate polities, now—Denmark, the USE, and the singular institution of Grantville—and was sure to traffic in secrets which he might not share with anyone, even (some said, _particularly_ ) his wife. But, despite the ostensible wisdom of those words, Anne Cathrine had never been willing to blithely concede the wider world of power and secrets to men—not even her darling Eddie!—and her father's use of daughters as marriage-primed pawns in his political chess games had only confirmed her in that resolve.
In the case of this voyage, the only impediment to her enjoying full access to her husband's professional life was one Lawrence Quinn: a slightly older up-timer whose mild-mannered self-assurance made him a Man Worthy of Notice for her two ladies, and even for the reclusive Edel Mund, the stolid wife of the flotilla's stolid naval commander, Pros Mund. Quinn's allure had no doubt been further spiced by the aura of mystery surrounding his slightly smaller ship, the destroyer _Courser_. It was quite clear to Anne Cathrine, having grown up in the courts of the high and the powerful, that this ship and its crew had either been, or would be, given special orders. There was no other explanation for the strange exclusion of the vessel from the intership contacts that had been commonplace among all the others in better weather. Even the rumored differences in _Courser_ 's crewing and supplies were not mentioned, let alone detailed, in the routine intership communiqués. That way, no conjectures could be made as to her final destination and purpose. The only thing Anne Cathrine was sure of was that, sooner or later, the crew of the _Courser_ would set of upon a task both hazardous and secret.
And so Anne Cathrine had consoled herself that, ultimately, Lawrence Quinn would depart, and she would have her husband's first and last confidence in all things, and so, be fully satisfied once again. Except, as she watched Larry's skerry whisked away by a beam-reaching breeze back toward the _Courser_ , she discovered that now that his moment of departure was imminent, she regretted it.
Partially, this was because she had come to like the American, despite his annoying claim upon an exclusive confidentiality with her Eddie. Quinn was easygoing, affable, courteous without being affected, and seemed genuinely concerned for her beloved Eddie's well-being. She was quite sure that the older up-timer had, on more than one occasion, offered her husband sage council on how to handle some of the junior officers who chafed at being subordinate to him, since they were not only older than he was, but had lived upon the waves since the age of twelve. While not openly insubordinate, those officers had tested the willingness and ease with which he exercised his authority. Larry had steered Eddie through those first encounters, helping him avoid the predictable extremes: resorting to barking orders and standing on rank alone (the mark of an insecure officer) or pretending not to notice the slights, thereby avoiding any corrective action at all (the mark of an even more insecure officer). Anne Cathrine had no doubt that Eddie would have found his footing as an officer and commander soon enough, but with Larry's extra guidance, her husband's missteps had been very few, and those but very slight. The net result was that, by the time the flotilla had crossed the Atlantic, Eddie was both well liked and well respected by not only the crew of the _Intrepid_ , but the entirety of the complement of Reconnaissance Flotilla X-Ray.
But there was another reason she now regretted Quinn's departure. She realized, for the first time, that it would probably make her husband feel lonely and perhaps a bit sad, and she chided herself for not having foreseen that before this moment. Up-timers were truly alone in this world, which was, for them (she still suspected) a primitive, ignorant, and often squalid place.
"Sister, you are scowling like Vibeka Kruse herself, just now." The voice, of her younger sister Leonora, was jocular and wrung a smile from Anne Cathrine in spite of the dark thoughts that Larry Quinn's departure had spawned. Vibeka Kruse had been her father's somewhat plain mistress for some years, whose virulent hatred for the children of his prior marriages was a matter of common knowledge, if not public display.
"I would rather you compare me to the Gorgon," Anne Cathrine replied in the same tone. "What is more ugly than a predatory woman whose hunt has been frustrated by the family of her carnal prey?"
But instead of smiling at the rejoinder, Leonora's eyes grew quite large and round and drifted ever so slightly in the direction of the third woman in the room.
She, the tall and stately Sophie Caisdatter Rantzau, did not _seem_ to notice the remark. Perhaps she was too engrossed in her up-time collection of Donne's verse. At least, Anne Cathrine hoped so, because she understood Leonora's meaningful semi-glance in an instant. Sophie was, herself, the offspring of one such beautiful yet Gorgonic woman, whose pursuit of male prey had been frustrated by his powerful family. In fact, it was King Christian IV of Denmark who had "rescued" his besotted eldest son from the scheming of Sophie's own mother: Anne Lykke. She had entranced Prince Christian when she appeared in court but a year or so after her first husband's death in 1623. Christian IV had ultimately imprisoned her, which incensed even neutral nobles against him: the king had no legal right to imprison either a nobleman or noblewoman without specific criminal charges. Christian IV responded with an (unfortunately characteristic) outré counterattack. He charged Anne Lykke with sorcery, claiming she had hired a reputed witch by the name of Lamme Heine to strike down the king once he became an obstacle to her amorous designs upon the crown prince. The resulting furor in the _Riksradet_ was as vitriolic and bitter as only truly stupid disputes can be, but left Anne Lykke with a reputation of being a "dangerous woman."
However absurd the scandal, though, even Sophie had suffered from it. Hence her presence on this voyage as a person wanting an increase in royal pleasure. Anne Cathrine, who would have liked to have kicked herself for her impolitic remark about Gorgons and unscrupulous women, looked cautiously sideways at Sophie Rantzau.
Sophie sighed and, not looking up from her reading, remarked, "Rest assured, I am not my mother, much less an admirer of her tactics. She is so—" Sophie tossed a long-fingered hand into the air, fingers miming her mental search for the proper word.
"—so strong-willed?" supplied Leonora tactfully.
The fingers stopped. Sophie allowed a slow smile to accompany her response and looked up. "It is said that there is a fine line between being strong-willed and willful. Wherever that line is, you will find my mother well on the other side of it."
Anne Cathrine beamed, both in relief and a sudden rush of appreciation for Sophie, who was the oldest of the three of them at the advanced age of nineteen. They had been cordial and carefully convivial during the crossing, and the sisters had endeavored to make her feel welcome, but the pre-extant gaps between them—of both social station and family feuds—had been an unaddressed and therefore unresolved factor. After all, Christian IV had not only imprisoned Sophie's mother, but threatened her with a capital crime, and then grudgingly released her on the condition of house arrest. It was perhaps a trifle optimistic to assume that she would welcome friendship from that same king's own daughters.
But in this unlooked-for instant, Sophie Caisdatter Rantzau showed herself to be her father's child in temperament, even though she was her mother's daughter in looks. Cai Rantzau—sheriff of Copenhagen and an eminently trustworthy and even-tempered man—had been admired not merely for his abilities, but for his wry sense of humor. And that sense of humor was now evident in the charmingly crooked smile with which Sophie regarded the two sisters.
Anne Cathrine giggled and put her hand out to touch the much taller woman's arm. "I am so glad you are here with us, away from all—that."
"Yes. It is good to be away from all—that." And Sophie closed her eyes, looking simultaneously pained and relieved.
Anne Cathrine looked at ever-politic Leonora, who showed no sign of inquiring into Sophie's reaction. So Anne Cathrine herself plunged onward despite the risks, as was her wont. "Good Sophie, you repeat my words in a most unusual tone and with a most unusual expression. If you are disposed to share the cause of—"
"I shall do so, my lady Anne Cathrine." Sophie opened gray eyes that were calm and grave. "But, if it please you, not this day."
Anne Cathrine swatted Sophie's arm. "Here, now. This is the last time you will call me Lady Anne Cathrine. I am simply Anne Cathrine, she is simply Leonora, and you will tell us of your woes if, when, and as you choose. Agreed?"
The wry smile was back on Sophie's face. "I would not think of disagreeing. Thank you—Anne Cathrine. Being able to have a conversation as frank as this—well, it is among the reasons I am most grateful to be away from all 'that,' from the endless intrigues that swirl in and around your royal father's court."
Anne Cathrine tilted forward with a conspiratorial whisper. "Me, too, Sophie: me, too." But as she leaned back again, Anne Cathrine found herself longing for that court's plush chairs, even though the last time she had sat in one had been emotionally uncomfortable . . .
Four days before boarding the _Patentia_ for her pending rendezvous with Eddie and his up-time-crafted ships, Anne Cathrine's royal father had summoned her to see him in the middle of the day. Which meant that although their meeting would be private, it was also motivated by official business. She had sat—indeed, had sunken into—her wonderfully soft chair while her father outlined his plans for her, for the New World, for Denmark's place in the USE, and how this journey to the New World would advance all of them.
"That is all very fine, Father," Anne Cathrine had said after listening to the lengthy and surprisingly coherent presentation. "But I must ask: why are you telling me all this? Full and open disclosure has not been one of your notable traits, to date."
"Ungrateful child! You cut your royal father to the quick!"
"Possibly. Yet I note you did not deny the truth of my observation."
Christian's answering smile was as sly and long as those he usually wore when he was inebriated and thinking himself surpassingly clever. "Daughter, you make me proud. Your wit is barely less than my little sage Leonora's, and you have five times the courage of any of my other offspring."
"You mean, your female offspring."
A dull look seemed to reduce the intense focus of Christian's eyes for a moment. "I said what I said. I see no need to modify it."
To which Anne Cathrine made no response. The conversation would not proceed well if the king began to brood upon his own regretful implication that she had more nerve and brains than his namesake, the crown prince Christian.
Fortunately, her father was not one to let a silence drag on. Indeed, he was not one to allow a silence to take place at all, and this time was no different. "However accurate—or not!—your initial observation may be, my Anne Cathrine, it is necessary that, on this occasion, you are made aware of all my plans in regard to what Admiral Simpson calls Reconnaissance Flotilla X-Ray."
She nodded, but thought: _Not true, Father. You haven't told me who else is charged with overseeing your interests, who might emerge to express your royal ultimatums when we find ourselves in the Caribbees, nor how, nor when. You have only told me what I need to know so that I will not be surprised and so that I cannot unwittingly foil your plans. But you have told me nothing with which I can help Eddie be on guard for your picked men in our little fleet._ But Anne Cathrine only said, "What makes this full disclosure so necessary, Father?"
"Because I know what you want, Anne Cathrine, even though you've not asked for it."
"And what is it you think I want, Father?"
"Why, to be made a duchess. Or, more to the point, to have Eddie made a duke."
Anne Cathrine was again impressed by how shrewd her father remained, despite all the alcohol he consumed. "And this voyage to the New World is necessary to that eventuality . . . how?"
"Daughter, certainly you must see it for yourself. If I am to pass over some of my own children to award this honor to your husband—"
_—and to thus confer upon me enough power so, come what may, I will not be treated merely as a "king's daughter," but akin to an actual princess—_
"—then Eddie must prove himself worthy, and mightily so, in my service."
Anne Cathrine smiled. "Is not his present service to the USE also, in part, service to the Union of Kalmar, and hence, service to you?"
"Well, it is . . . and yet, it is not. I am one of the monarchs of the multinational hodgepodge over which Gustav presides. But to follow the orders of the USE, and to serve its interest . . . well, it cannot be equated with service to me, to this crown, directly. If Eddie makes 'prudent' choices when the right opportunities arise, then we may construe his service with Flotilla X-Ray as service to us. Perhaps his actions will show he is worthy of being made a duke. And perhaps you can encourage him in this regard. If so—then, we shall see."
Anne Cathrine rose stiffly. "So we shall," She bowed and turned toward the door. She was amazed, for a fleeting moment, that familial extortion so obvious as that now being plied by her father did not actually have a physical stench.
Christian's voice implored her spine. "Daughter!" His tone softened when she halted and turned back to face him. "Now do not become cross with me."
"Then do not demean my husband."
Christian's eyes seemed to grow more shiny. He straightened in his chair and his voice was loud and sharp. "You dare scold me?"
"I do not. But I do dare to defend my husband when he is held to be deficient in deeds of valor and conquest that, quite obviously, he has already performed. And I observe that the standard to which you propose to hold him is already far greater than what you expected of most of the men to whom you have forced my sisters to become betrothed. How very lucky I was that a landless up-timer fell into our hands. Otherwise, I might have wound up a consort—or should I say mattress?—for that hero of whore- and counting-houses, Friherr Dinesen."
Christian grew very pale, then very red, then returned to normal color. "Anne Cathrine . . ."
At that moment, Vibeka Kruse drifted past the open door. Her idle stroll and excessively sunny smile were akin to an open admission that she had been listening from the hall. Christian nodded at her, rolled his eyes once she had passed, and his gaze swept across the single, small portrait of Kristen Munk—Anne Cathrine's mother—that he allowed to remain in the palace. He smiled sourly as his eyes came away from the picture of the woman for whom his desire had led to an ill-considered morganatic marriage. Anne Cathrine raised an eyebrow, staring at him.
Christian's sour smile became wry. "I was preparing to lecture you, once again, on how—for royalty and their offspring—marriage is not reserved for love, but for duty. But I am afraid my own behavior would hardly support my case."
Anne Cathrine allowed herself a smile that was almost a copy of her father's but said nothing.
"So I allow you this: young Commander Cantrell is everything I could hope for in a son-in-law save in one way. His birth."
"He is not of low birth. Such a concept is meaningless to up-timers."
Christian nodded. "True enough. Which is—and I will deny this if you ever repeat it—a political trait of theirs I admire, in many ways.
"But our exigencies are dynastic, not democratic; our concerns realistic, not idealistic. There are only so many titles I may grant, particularly hereditary ones, before I begin to dilute the significance of those titles by making them too commonplace."
"That is what Eddie calls 'inflation.'"
"Yes. And I do not argue that he is bold and brave and clever and unswervingly loyal to those whom he has sworn allegiance. But beloved daughter, remember this: he demonstrated all those qualities not while in my service, but while in service against me. Against us. Let him match—even faintly—those deeds while in my service, or showing similar regard for Denmark's interests, and then I can make him what you wish. Indeed, I will seem at once magnanimous and just, raising him up as a hero, unprejudiced by the fact that half of his heroism was exercised against me."
Leonora's low-voiced comment brought Anne Cathrine back to the present. "The _Courser_ is departing already." Her sister nodded toward the single porthole in the ladies' sitting cabin.
Anne Cathrine blinked, still slightly disoriented by the rapid shift from memories of Denmark eight weeks ago to the rolling currents of the New World. Sure enough, the _Courser_ had most of its canvas in the wind, and was already skimming swiftly southwest, angling away from the rest of Flotilla X-Ray's increasingly southeasterly course.
"Where do you think they are going?" asked Leonora, who had effectively memorized several atlases worth of New World maps.
Anne Cathrine was debating how best to reply when Sophie Rantzau said, "Someplace dangerous, Leonora. Of that I feel certain."
"Yes," Anne Cathrine breathed into the silence that followed Sophie's oracular pronouncement. "Someplace very dangerous indeed."
**_Pitch Lake, Fort St. Patrick, Trinidad_**
Tearlach Mulryan stared down past the spyglass that hung at his chest, and saw the tiny outline of their stockade, which McGillicuddy had dubbed "Fort St. Patrick." The glimmer of lights—the low, steady fires of dry branches dipped in pitch—just managed to pick out the corners of the smaller, dark square that was the recently completed blockhouse. The storehouse, although barely more than a large, sturdy shack, was also completed. Every other faint outline was a tent. Mulryan smiled, glad not to be sleeping in one of those canvas shelters, because, floating four hundred feet above the ground, he was kept wonderfully cool by occasional gusts of the less humid night air. Down on the ground, his comrades sweltered and sought refuge from the incessant attention of an infinitude of mosquitoes.
Beyond the rough darkness of the land beneath him was the smooth, inky darkness of the sea. And the only sounds besides the wind were the distant cries of high-flying birds. That and the surf, Mulryan amended, as he heard the distant sigh of waves rubbing their backs against the steeper slope of the north beach, as well as the faint swells that ran whispering in over the tidal flats that scalloped outwards from the west beach—
His reveries came to an abrupt end: the west beach had lights beyond it. A quick check through the spyglass revealed that it was not one, but three separate lights, probably no more than twenty miles away. That put them much closer than the normal maritime traffic, which traveled primarily from east to west, following the prevailing winds and making for destinations farther along the South American coast. But more significantly, these three lights were all on parallel courses, bound directly for the west shore. Their slow but steady progress indicated that they were probably fore-and-aft rigged vessels, tacking tight against the wind.
Mulryan resisted the powerful impulse to signal his ground crew for a fast descent. Instead he followed the special orders— _protocols_ , Don Michael called them—that had been established for handling this eventuality.
Tearlach looked down, and carefully noted the arrangement of the time-marking lanterns on the balloon's servicing pad. As he watched, the quarter-keeping lantern was moved from the 1:15 position to the 1:30 position. Time of observation was fixed. He tapped it down to the ground crew, who now knew that something was afoot. He signaled bearing, course, approximate distance, and best guess at speed. And then he lifted the spyglass back up to his eye and commenced the first of several slow sweeps of the horizon, each one of which would be a concentric circle that overlapped the prior one by about twenty-five percent, all spiraling in to a close observation of the immediate environs of Fort St. Patrick. But before he finished even the first full sweep, Mulryan spotted another light, this one solitary and farther off, perhaps thirty miles to the east. Whether or not that ship was underway, and what its heading might be, were impossible to determine at this range. Meaning that it could very well be nothing more than a typical merchant vessel, moving slowly or at anchor for the night.
But somehow, Tearlach Mulryan suspected that this was not an evening for coincidences, and as he clicked the Morse code data string pertaining to this second sighting, he thought, _And what are you doing waiting out there, my lovely? Have we seen you and your balloon before, or are you a new partner in our dance?_ Mulryan felt very sure that he'd know the answer by this time tomorrow.
Presuming, of course, that he was still alive.
Barto stabbed a finger down at the left edge of the crudely rendered map of Pitch Lake and its environs. "We land our real raiding party here on the western coast, in force and in secret. The rest of our men remain aboard while all ships hug the shore, beating northward, still using the coastal trees for cover."
"The water is very shallow dere," observed Riijs, the most quiet of Barto's company and unquestionably the most dangerous. A multiple murderer who had fled Frisia, he killed with a quiet efficiency and calm that defied the assignation of any suitable _nom de guerre_. He was just called Riijs—and he preferred not being called at all. "Is it safe passage? And will we not be seen, staying so close?"
Barto looked at Berrick, the Englishman, who shook his hoary head. "I sailed wif them whut sailed wif Raleigh, and they told me that the draft is enough for hulls such as ours. And the trees will hide ye fine. One needn't dally in the breakers to stay in their blind spot, 'cause the high land near the lake is none too high. They can't see over the treetops for miles out."
"And if dey have a watch post dere, on de western coast?" Riijs' voice lacked any discernible intonation.
Barto shrugged. "Then you signal us and we move quickly to deeper water, around the headland, and engage their ship near the north beach. You comb and clear the woods along the west beach, and wait for our diversion. But remember: you don't charge the rise"—for it could not reasonably be called a "hill"—"until you hear our guns."
"So, we use de same signal either way: your first cannonade. And either way, you follow de same plan for engaging de enemy ship."
"Aye. But if we can move slowly and unseen, all the better. Best if you can advance to the eastern edge of the west woods undetected. It's more than half a mile to the high ground, so you can't charge it all the way. And the more time they have to see you—"
" _Ja._ I know. De more of us will die. But I am more worried by dis: do you really tink dey will be so stupid as to focus all dere attention on de north shore when our ships show up dere?"
Barto smiled. "I'll make sure of it. The pinnace and the packet will be loaded with almost eighty men, and will seem to make briskly for the beach. Of course, our foe's 'daunting ship and superb seamanship' will scare us off. And so we'll appear to delay the landing of what will certainly look like our main raiding force."
Riijs was the only one who did not smile at the elegance of the ruse. "It is a gut plan. Let us hope our enemy does not also have a gut plan."
Barto smiled at his coolly homicidal lieutenant. "You worry too much, Riijs."
Who nodded. " _Ja._ Dat is true."
Hugh looked up at Mulryan, who was on the blockhouse roof, standing atop a hastily erected ten-foot platform, spyglass aimed at the western woods. O'Donnell shouted up through the brisk morning breeze, "Are their small boats still heading for the west shore?"
"The treetop outpost signals that the raiders are approaching the tidal flats now. A pinnace and packet. They're full to the gunwales."
Hugh nodded to his command staff. "Aye, that's their main attack force, sneaking up on our 'blind side.'" He shouted up to Mulryan. "Is O'Bannon in position yet?"
"Yes, m'lord. Just got the signal this second."
"Good. Signal back that message is received, and our treetop watchers are to withdraw and fall back to join O'Bannon's team at the first ambush site."
St. Georges, who had missed the predawn preparations, stuck his face into the ring of officers around Hugh. "What do you mean, 'first ambush site?'"
"Good of you to join us, Lieutenant. O'Bannon, my best scout, left before dawn with his original landing team plus a few other men. They've taken up positions at the edge of a clearing near the northern tip of the woods."
St. Georges, still bleary-eyed and endued with a faint vinous reek, pulled his uniform collar straighter. "Why there?"
"Because when we finally put our balloon up, that's where our visitors will no doubt send some marksmen—probably their best, with rifled pieces—to snipe at it. Once they've positioned themselves in the clearing and they've begun to fire, O'Bannon will take them by surprise." Again, Hugh shouted up to Mulryan, "Tearlach, has Morraine acknowledged your earlier signals?"
"Yes, Lord O'Donnell."
"Then down you come, and at the double-quick."
St. Georges looked meaningfully back at the balloon sheds but saw only the beginnings of activity there. "I see you are not yet ready to put Mulryan aloft. Would not his observation be invaluable at this time?"
"Not as valuable as his becoming a decoy a little later on."
"A decoy? How?"
"I'm not going to put Mulryan up in the balloon until our visitors to the west have all landed, and settled themselves into the woods. Or until they start getting too close to O'Bannon. Whichever occurs first."
"Why wait so long?"
"Because I want the attackers to think their attempt to surprise us has worked. The farther they proceed with whatever plans they've made based on that assumption, the more likely we can turn the tables on them later on."
"I see," said St. Georges.
Hugh doubted he did, based on the Frenchman's hesitation and muted voice. "But once they see the balloon, they'll know that we have them under observation, and they will have to begin improvising. Their first step will be to snipe at the balloon. And that's when O'Bannon will give them their first surprise."
"And when they pursue him?"
"He'll run back fifty yards, through a maze of preset snares, turn and wait."
"And ambush the dogs again when they become entangled. Ingenious," conceded St. Georges.
Ignoring the faintly supercilious tone, Hugh finished the tactical overview. "O'Bannon will do this twice, if he can, and then fall back out of the woods and around to the brush just off the north beach. And I'm hoping that a lot of our visitors on the west shore will chase him."
St. Georges nodded. "Because the more of them that are chasing him—"
Hugh nodded back. "—the fewer of them they'll have to attack the stockade. Either way, O'Bannon and his men will take up concealed, prepared positions just a hundred yards northwest of the stockade. If he's not busy defending himself from following forces, he'll wait there as a reserve, or will harry any attempt to land to our north. Although I don't think they're going to try a landing on the north coast."
"Why?"
"First, it's a little too obvious. Second, the water is deeper there and they have to come closer to put men ashore. Third, I believe Captain Morraine and _Fleur Sable_ will make it too costly for them."
That brought a genuine, and somewhat fierce, smile to St. Georges' face. " _Oui, vraiment_."
O'Rourke frowned down at the map that Hugh had hastily sketched in the dirt as he spoke. "So how many do you think they're landing in the west woods?"
"I wish I knew, but I expect no less than one hundred, perhaps as many as one-hundred-twenty. That assumes they need to keep running crews and some boarding parties on all three ships."
O'Rourke emitted a low whistle. "Steep odds. There are only sixty of us—sixty-six, counting Lieutenant St. Georges and his men. It could become a desperate affair, fighting against those numbers—"
Hugh smiled. "Yes, but their advantage in numbers will also be their undoing."
"How so?"
"They will want to use that advantage to make a quick, decisive attack. Which is why they're positioning themselves to approach under cover, and then charge the fort _en masse_."
"That's just what I'm afraid of."
"Ah, but that's just what I want. O'Rourke, you're to take forty men and get into concealed positions at the edge of the eastern forest. All except for your five best marksmen and three of the green lads to work as reloaders. They're to be prone and concealed out in the brush, forward of the forest."
"I'm taking forty of our sixty men? That leaves you—what?—four for running the balloon, six for O'Bannon's team in the west wood, and ten for the fort itself?"
"Yes."
"And then what? Am I to twiddle my thumbs while these dogs swarm around the fortress gates?"
"At first, yes."
"They'll break in!"
"Of course. That's what I want."
"Are ye daft—m'lord?"
"No, old friend, I am not. When the raiders get the gate open, that's when your marksmen go to work. They'll be bunched up, so whittle them down, drive them inside the stockade for cover—and then charge for all you're worth. Leave your long pieces back with your marksmen. The rest of you close and engage with musketoons, pistols, even swords if it gets that tight. But I don't think it will."
"No? And why not?"
"Because when they finally open the gate—"
Barto, watching the almost empty pinnace exit the shallows, glimpsed movement over the trees lining the shore to the west of Pitch Lake. As he watched, a swollen, inverted teardrop shape rose up higher than the palms. Berrick pointed to it with an inarticulate stutter that always afflicted him during combat.
Barto sucked the salt wind through his irregular and incomplete teeth. "I see it, fool. But what is it?"
"I d-d-don't know, b-but th-there's a m-m-man in a b-basket b-b-b-beneath it."
And so there was. Hanging near the tapering base of the upward-falling blue-gray teardrop was a single figure. Its hands and arms raised towards its face, and Barto saw a split-second glint of sharply reflected sunlight.
"Bastards! They're watching us from that—thing. With a spyglass."
"B-b-but what is it?"
"What does that matter? They can see us from it and, no doubt, signal their forces on the ground. Damn it, we have to move now—and fast!" Turning to his mate, he ordered, "Signal the pinnace to run large and catch up with us. We've got to put a boarding party on her, but we'll have to do it on the move, rather than pausing at the northern headland."
Riijs stared up through the trees at the strange, tapering globe, which rose slowly, like—like what? Where had he seen this kind of lazy, steady ascent?
And then he knew: it was akin to the way that heavy embers, or whole leaves, rose up out of a fire. But this distended sack, and the single man slung beneath it, kept rising and would soon be high overhead. He looked through the trees and out to sea. The pinnace was just dropping from sight around the headland to the north, trying to catch Barto's sloop. Well, the man hanging under that swollen sphere had doubtless seen those ships, so that part of their attack was no longer a surprise. But had the observer been aloft in time to see Riijs' landing force?
His uncertainty was not resolved by the runner who came bounding through the brush toward him, breathless. "News from the eastern edge of the woods," the man panted.
" _Ja._ Say."
"As we thought, there is a stockade on the rise to the north. But if they had outposts, they have pulled them in."
"Do you tink dey saw us?"
"No sign of it from the fort. But who knows what they might see from that," and he glanced through the forest canopy, up to the strange, skyward-receding orb.
Riijs thought. The floating sky-ship created another problem: as commander, where should he position himself? At the edge of the forest with the waiting assault forces, or back here to oversee the marksmen who he would instruct to bring down the sky-ship as soon as Barto's guns fired? Or should his marksmen go to work even before Barto's signal? If the airborne observer had already caught a glimpse of Riijs' main attack force, the element of surprise might be slipping through their fingers, even now—
Riijs focused outward once again; the runner, who had been standing there the whole time, seemed to reappear in front of him. "Go back to de edge of de forest wit deese orders: 'wait for my command to charge.' I will move to a position two hundred yards back from de line. Go." He looked round at the marksmen and loaders he had gathered to him. "All of you: go to de clearing we saw. Load wit small balls and use silk. You will need much range. Wait for my order to start shooting. And you:"—he pointed to one of the loaders—"come wit me. When I tell you to go, you will run back to deese men wit orders to fire on de ting in de sky." Riijs waved for his personal guards to form on him, and then followed after the first runner at a brisk walk, and wondered, "When will Barto fire those damned guns?" To which there was only one sure answer: the sooner, the better.
**_Pitch Lake, Trinidad_**
Barto signaled for his packet to move closer to shore as they came around the headland—and found the enemy ship already bearing down upon them.
And it was a cromster, damn it. But an older one: her mizzenmast was lateen- rather than yawl-rigged. And from the look of how that rigging was dressed—
"Boys, I think we have some navy-trained fool captaining that ship."
"Fool or no, he's got twenty-eight guns to our sixteen," offered Dorsey, the chief gunner. "Probably heavier ones, too."
"Which he's been taught to use in set-piece broadsides, I'll wager. Out in deep water." _In deep water, where the great ships lumber like corpulent apple-barges_ —and then Barto saw how he was going to win this battle. "Gianetti, hard a-starboard. Berrick, signal the rest to follow us in."
Gianetti, back at the whipstaff, was wide-eyed. "Starboard? You mean—?"
"Take us into the shallows, Gianetti, as close as you can. And Dorsey?"
"Aye?"
"Give him a portside volley as we come over."
"At this range? Even with shot, we'll fall short by—call it two hundred yards."
"Good."
"You want to waste powder _and_ make him think we don't know how to shoot?"
Barto turned to smile at his gunnery chief. "Yes, Dorsey, that's _exactly_ what I want him to think."
Riijs heard the distant cannonade and turned to the second runner. "Run hard, back to de marksmen. Tell dem to shoot dat sky-ting and de man beneath it. Remember: silk on de musket balls, a half-measure more of powder. Go." Then, Riijs resumed moving toward his front line but did so at a slow walk. He would not be comfortable until he heard his marksmen firing at the observer watching his forces from the sky. . . .
Morraine felt the _Fleur Sable_ lose headway as the wind spilled from his square-rigged sails, and then regain a half-measure of it as the breeze began filling out his lateen.
"Captain, he runs before us," called his pilot.
Morraine nodded, watching the pirate sloop and her two smaller sister ships—the latter packed with troops—run in closer against the shore. They were far in and had to be in danger of running aground. He had a deeper draft and could not follow them very far into the shallows, but he didn't need to do so. He only needed to come close enough to bring all his guns to bear. "Two points more to port, pilot. Crowd them in against the land."
"Captain, we have lost much of the wind, and if we go much closer—"
Morraine slapped the rail impatiently. "Obey, blast your eyes. We have not lost all the wind. We have the mizzen"—he jerked his chin at the billowing lateen sail—"and that will allow us to sail clear again. We are not attempting to board, merely coming over to bring our portside battery to bear."
"Yes, Captain." The pilot made his reply through a nervous swallowing noise.
Morraine looked overhead. The breeze was steady into the lateen. So what if it caught a bit less wind than a more modern fore-and-aft rig? It was not so _very_ different. He had put _Fleur Sable_ through her paces and she was a well-sprung hull, sprightly and responsive compared to the contemptible monsters he had commanded before. With this hull, surely it was possible to get in a little closer and put a solid broadside into the sloop before turning out to deeper water.
Morraine glanced up. The lateen sail's leading edge began to sag and flutter faintly. But surely such a simple maneuver as he intended was still possible.
Behind Riijs, the chaos started, at it usually did, all at once. From back in the clearing where his marksmen were now sniping at the sky-thing, the intermittent sounds of gunfire redoubled and became a fierce exchange. Riijs, now three hundred yards behind his main force, debated: ignore the sudden appearance of enemy troops behind him and start the charge, or set things to right in his rear area first? There were no lieutenants he could trust with either task. The skirmish behind him was unexpected and could be a trap. Charging the enemy stockade, while simpler, was a sprint into the unknown.
Riijs slapped his oldest bodyguard, Hernandez, on the shoulder, said, "Go bring twenty men from de front line." Then he turned and started sprinting to the rear. First things first.
The gunfire started and stopped a few times as he ran. Then it ceased, just as the runner he had sent back originally burst out of the brush in front of him—and almost got a ball through his head.
"Report," said Riijs, who lowered his snaphaunce pistol and resumed moving to the rear at a trot.
"An ambush. They were waiting—"
"I know dat. How many are dere, what are dey doing, how have we responded?"
"Riijs, we do not know how many there are. There could be twenty shooting occasionally. There could be five, reloading quickly and always moving. Our marksmen are dead—"
_But of course they are—_
"—and the rest of us have taken cover."
Riijs needed no further report. He had arrived at the rear of the defensive line his remaining men had set up on the safe side of the clearing. The senior among them, a mestizo who went by the strange name of Madre, pointed across the sun-flecked stretch of grass and scrub. "They pulled back. We sent four to follow. They're going to—"
Deeper in the trees that fringed the far side of the clearing, there was a sudden crash, a shout that turned into a scream, a single shot. Silence. Then three ragged pirate voices began shouting and cursing.
Riijs nodded. "Traps. Our enemies planned all dis. Dey reasoned we would sneak in from de west coast, which means dey must have seen us coming ashore. And now dey want us to waste more time here. Which we will not do." As Hernandez arrived with the twenty men Riijs had requested, he looked down at Madre. "Use deese men to hold dis position. Do not follow de enemy further into de bush. Secure your flanks. I will start de attack on de stockade as soon as I reach our front line. Do not follow us. You must make sure dat deese enemy snipers do not threaten our rear."
Madre nodded and looked across the clearing again. "And what about the four—eh, three men we sent after them?"
A second scream and a shot. Silence.
Riijs shrugged. "Dey were dead men de moment you sent dem." He turned and began sprinting back to the main force.
Hugh, standing at his signaling position on the roof of the blockhouse, estimated that it had been a full two minutes since he had heard the rattle of musketry in the west forest. From the sound of it, the pirates had taken the bait once, but had not followed on into the second set of snares. Well, so far, things were going much better than capricious fate usually allowed. He put two fingers to his mouth and whistled twice. Out beyond the western wall of the stockade, in the center of the ballooning field, McGillicuddy's thick outline stopped moving, then his head came around. Hugh pointed up, and then made three down-pulling motions. McGillicuddy nodded and turned to his ground crew, who began hauling in the balloon's guide wires at the double-quick. Yes, Hugh reflected, everything seemed to be going almost suspiciously well, both on land and at sea. He turned to check on Morraine's pursuit of the pirates—
—and saw _Fleur Sable_ angling landwards, saw the three pirate ships running before her, saw the mottled aqua moiré of shallows that the pirates had obviously navigated before, and into which Morraine had no business venturing. Not that he'd run aground: he had room enough to come over and avoid that, but if the lateen was out of position to tack back across the wind . . .
"Captain Morraine!" The cry of the leadsman, sounding line high in his hand, was shrill and anxious.
"Yes, yes, I see. Harder to port, Pilot."
Who complied, and then looked up. The lateen sail sagged to half her fullness. Morraine felt his heart quicken.
"Captain!" The leadsman, staring down into the water directly beneath the starboard bow, sounded even more panicked.
Morraine bit his lip, looked down amidships toward his gunnery officer. "Camignon?"
The gunnery officer snapped straight. "Yes, Captain?"
"How much of our portside battery bears on the sloop?"
"Nine guns, Captain. But we are losing the angle."
Which matched Morraine's own assessment: the sloop was running out of his field of fire faster than _Fleur Sable_ was turning to track him. "Pilot, hard a-port. Camignon, stand ready! Steady, steady . . ." Morraine watched the firing angle improve, but then, as his lateen sail luffed and lost more wind, the rate of turn diminished, and the angle began widening out again. "Fire!"
But even as Morraine gave the order, the pirate sloop heeled over hard to port herself, swinging her bow sharply away from land and aiming it directly at _Fleur Sable_. This put the sloop head-on to Camignon's guns, and thus shrank her target profile by two-thirds. Of the nine balls that came roaring out from the port side of Morraine's cromster, three went past the sloop on her port side, four overshot her on the starboard. The other two smashed into her, blasting a deck gun overboard, clipping a sail free, and gouging a smoking pit into the middle of her weather deck. But the extraordinarily maneuverable pirate resumed her portside turn, tacking through the wind smartly to come all the way about. Her course now fully reversed, she headed back to cross in front of the almost completely becalmed _Fleur Sable_.
Like little curs following a wolf, the packet, and then the pinnace, turned about also—but they came straight back out toward the _Fleur Sable_. Morraine saw the men rising up on those crowded decks, boarding hooks held at the ready.
_Mon Dieu_ , those brutes are not a second landing force. They are boarding parties. Which meant, Morraine realized, that he had done exactly what the pirate captain had wanted, and expected, him to do. The low-hulled packet would be under Morraine's guns before they could be reloaded and the sloop would have just slipped past on his port bow. Only the pinnace was far enough out that his guns could—
Then the pinnace heeled over, her five small portside demi-culverins tilted up by her movement. As she began to right herself, the guns fired in volley.
A second before Morraine's eyes told him what was inbound, his ears detected the unmistakable, ferocious moaning of chain-shot, headed straight up into his drooping sails.
Riijs, nearing the end of his long sprint, vomited in midstride: his breakfast came out in a side-streaming rush, and then he was among the rearmost men of the attack force. He looked up and down the tree line, estimating rather than counting. He was about a dozen shy of a full company. Not a lot, but it would have to do. "Stand," he shouted. They rose, the assorted firearms of their bloody trade bristling upward and outward like a ragged hedge. "Ready and—at de trot—forward."
Half a step behind Riijs, who loosened his brace of pistols and drew his cutlass an inch from its scabbard, the eighty-seven remaining buccaneers of the Frisian's main attack force began loping northeast toward the stockade.
Barto, eyes never leaving the cromster, shouted back at his sailmaster. "Spill the mainsail, man; bring to as we cross his bows." Then, to Dorsey: "Has the starboard battery been reloaded as I ordered?"
Dorsey nodded with a gap-toothed grin. "The garbage is ready to go, Cap'n."
Gianetti, who was young for a pilot and new to The Life, called forward through the wind. "'Garbage?'"
Barto shouted over his shoulder. "Do you know what we pirates do with broken nails, old fishhooks, rusted grommets?"
Gianetti, confused by the question, blinked. "No," he shouted back.
Barto turned, smiled. "Then just watch this."
Morraine peered through the tangle of his shredded sails, dangling yards, and tilting masts to try to keep track of the sloop's progress. She had slowed just before she went athwart his hawse. Camignon's voice reached him through the ruin and sting of impending defeat. "Half the portside battery is reloaded and bears."
Morraine glanced quickly to his left; the pinnace was trying to bring its bow around to point at the _Fleur Sable_ 's waist, but a quirk of the wind had slowed her. "Fire all, Camignon!"
Seven guns of the _Fleur Sable_ spoke. Wood and smoke jetted up from the pinnace, which listed precipitously. Her jigger down, she slowed further, but then the wind freshened and she sped away after the sloop, her deck littered with bodies. Morraine felt a quick surge of hope; he looked forward again—just in time to see the sloop's midship gunwales swing into sight over his starboard bow and the pirate gunners lowering matches to fuses.
" _Down!_ " Morraine shouted, and rather than flattening himself against the poop deck, he vaulted the rail and dropped into the quarterdeck's companionway. As he landed there, the discharges of eight cannon came roaring up the length of his spar deck. He had expected grape: he was not prepared for sangrenel. The uneven bits of metal screamed like enraged hornets, then growled and hissed and spat as they splintered, ripped, and chewed their way into and through everything that was upright on the main deck of the _Fleur Sable_.
It was over in a fraction of a second. Morraine rose quickly, wondering if maybe, just maybe, some straggler of that swarm of slaughtering scrap-iron might kill him, too. But he had to live to see the aftermath. Gunners who had been on the far side of their cannons had survived, as well as those few sharpshooters still up in the rigging. Behind him he heard feeble movement and a moan on the poop deck. But everywhere else, men were screaming, spurting blood from impossibly irregular gashes, whereas those who had been caught in the very center of the cone of death lay in mangled heaps, moving weakly as their blood poured out of scores of hideous wounds.
Morraine caught it all in a single glimpse. The very next second, the sloop's starboard bow swung about to roughly kiss his own and pirates swarmed onto his low fo'c'sle. A moment later, boarding hooks snapped down over his portside gunwales, and like a hoard of spiders, the brutes from the packet flowed up and onto his main deck, killing any who had strength enough to stand.
For Morraine, the situation was as easy to read as a book, which, in this case, was clearly a tragedy: his ship was lost. As he drew both his pistols, he watched half of the scant remains of his deck crew blasted aside by blunderbusses and run through by cutlasses. His own two shots, although each dropped one of the boarders, only served to infuriate and attract the attention of the ravening horde that is a pirate crew intent on slaughter. Six, maybe eight of the unwashed, bangled buccaneers came roaring at him, and Morraine realized that he had only one way to still snatch victory from the jaws of this defeat.
A ball splintered the heavy door frame as he turned and sped for the stairs to the gun deck. Yes, victory could still be his.
If he followed the example of Pyrrhus.
Hugh waved St. Georges and his men back from the gates. "No, damn it, get on the platforms. Don't waste time bracing the doors. They won't hold anyway. They're not _meant_ to."
"But _monsieur_ , these timbers will buy us precious time as we—"
"St. Georges, do as I say or I will shoot you where you stand." Hugh produced his most coveted pistol, a double-barreled flintlock, to give substance to his threat.
St. Georges nodded to his six French marines. Each team of three dropped the heavy timber they had been preparing to wedge in behind the gates. "I must point out that, in civilized countries, the conventions of siege craft—"
" _Get on the wall,_ St. Georges. Let's see if you can shoot as well as you talk."
With a curt nod, St. Georges dispatched his two three-man teams, one to each platform on either side of the gate. They joined the ten Irish soldiers of fortune already working there, each of whom slowly but steadily fired and reloaded a long-barreled rifle, electing not to touch an impressive array of preloaded smoothbores, all ready to hand. The marines, following the example of the Irish, did not disturb their own racks of preloaded weapons, but used their regular muskets to fire occasional, careful shots at the distant pirates.
Riijs considered his options. His men were tired from the trot, and most had drained their water skins at least an hour before. The sun was climbing higher and the volume of fire from the fort had picked up. At two hundred yards, this had been deemed a safe range at which to rest and reorganize, but some of the marksmen on the walls were evidently quite accomplished. One of his force had been killed, two incapacitated, and many unnerved by balls that came much closer than they should have. _The defenders have plenty of powder and, if I give them enough time, they have enough marksmen to either chase us back or whittle us down. No_ , decided Riijs, standing up and earning a near miss for his trouble, _the time has come._ "All stand." He was answered by the rustle and clattering of eighty-four raiders rising to their feet. Many stared at the two hundred yards of open ground and then at Riijs. Mortal uncertainty—and the contemplation of mutiny—glimmered in the eyes of several.
Riijs brought up his pistol and aimed it at the dense jungle to the south. "You plan to hide dere? The Arawaks will kill you by sundown. And if our boats are sunk, you are stuck on dis island. So. You have one safe place to go:"—he swung around and aimed at the stockade—"dat fort. Everyplace else is death."
Those pirates who had wavered swallowed, nodded.
Riijs nodded back, then shouted. "Musketeers, halt at seventy yards and volley to cover our final approach. Every one else, we charge all de way. Axe-men and maul-men, stay near de front: you'll deal with de gate. Ready? Now—"
"They're charging!" Hugh called down to the wall. But the men there had seen it for themselves. They immediately shouldered their current weapons for one last shot at range. Their rifles spoke; a few of the onrushing figures sprawled. Then they set to cocking the hammers on all the waiting pieces.
At seventy yards, Hugh saw the pirates with longer weapons slow and bring their pieces up. "Down!" he shouted. All but one Frenchman responded promptly.
The pirates' loose volley was still impressive. Balls zipped overhead, splintered timbers, and one found its way through the slowest Frenchman's forehead. He pitched back off the platform as limp and lifeless as a sack of stones.
Only one or two of the pirates were hanging back and reloading. Hugh yelled down to his men, "Stand and fire at will."
The defenders needed little encouragement. With a horde of ruthless attackers at fifty yards or less, the Irish and the French quickly found targets, fired, dropped the spent musket, grabbed the next. At about twenty yards, a few of the pirate muskets spoke again, joined increasingly by pistols and blunderbusses as the distance narrowed. The defenders started feeling the firepower of the attackers. Another Frenchman went down. An Irishman, soft-voiced Murphy, toppled off the platform, an arterial wound spraying like a bright red roostertail as he fell. Others were wounded.
St. Georges, wild-eyed, spun to look up at Hugh. "Monsieur, do you lack the courage to defend your own walls?"
Hugh gritted his teeth and ignored the question. "Abandon the platforms, St. Georges. Fall back to the barricades to either side of the lane. As we discussed."
"Abandon the—?"
"Off the walls, damn you!"
"But without us to fire down upon them, the brutes will surely get in."
"Damn it, do as I say."
St. Georges spat conspicuously but complied. Hugh would worry about offended honor later. For now, he was counting how many men he had lost, and let his eye wander back to the storehouse, where McGillicuddy stood waiting in front of the doors.
Axes started thudding into the gates, followed closely by the dull thump of mauls. From Hugh's vantage point it was difficult to tell just how many pirates were clumped together there, or were surprised to discover that the gates were built more lightly than the walls of the stockade, being fashioned of wide-set trunks that were both thin and dry. The light, gapped construction had been an essential part of Don Michael's tactical contribution to Hugh's overall defensive strategy—a tactic which Michael had insisted on withholding from the French. When asked why, he simply answered, "I don't trust 'em to protect us, so why should I trust 'em to follow our plans or keep our secrets?" Hugh had publicly expressed nothing but confidence in the up-timer's daring tactic, but had nursed his own unspoken doubts about it. Which rose up once again: _Michael, if your plan doesn't work, they are going to rush over us like a wave over ants—_
The sound of thumping and hacking doubled. "Get your men back and under cover!" Hugh shouted down toward St. Georges, who made a wan attempt to comply.
_Your funeral_ , thought Hugh, who turned toward McGillicuddy and raised his fist high. McGillicuddy nodded, raised his own fist, signaling he was ready. Hugh dropped his hand.
McGillicuddy heaved at the left-side door of the storehouse. It swung open, revealing the French eight-pounder that Michael had positioned there, muzzle trained directly at the gate. "Fire," shouted McGillicuddy.
The roar of the saker was underscored by a faint rush of what sounded like immense, growling bees. The bow-wave of the double-loaded grapeshot went straight thought the lightly constructed gate, splintering almost half of it and summoning forth a chorus of shrieks and screams that, though inarticulate, conveyed one fact very clearly:
Many of the remaining pirates had just been wounded or killed.
Riijs wiped blood from the side of his face, checked, found that it was not his own but had instead come sheeting over him when the maul-man who had been hammering at the gate's right-side hinge-points had his left lung blown free of his body. Riijs—who had been standing farther to the right and was thus sheltered by the stockade wall—had escaped death by mere inches. Which did not impress him in the slightest.
Instead, he counted his men as he moved toward the gate. He had lost about fifteen dead and wounded reaching the stockade. This blast of grapeshot had cost him almost twenty more, most of whom were incapacitated or killed outright. Grapeshot rarely inflicted flesh-wounds, after all. That left him a force of about fifty, too many of whom were wavering. But judging from the enemy's sudden abandonment of the walls, Riijs had the sneaking suspicion that—
"Dere are less of dem than we thought. Hernandez, you keep five men out here to watch our backs. De rest of you: through de gate and follow me!"
Morraine used the butt of his pistol to club the pirate who had discovered him on the gun deck. The man fell, but with a long moan. The other pirates, who were slipping in through the gun ports, heard, looked, saw, and started back toward the captain.
Morraine finished staving in the top of the powder keg, laid his pistol down upon it sideways, so that its action touched the loose gunpowder just beneath the copper lip of the cask. He cocked the flintlock's hammer—
—just as he felt something cool slide into the center of his back. Before he could blink, a pirate's cutlass-point came out the front of his doublet, coated in his own blood.
_But you are too late_ , Morraine thought. His lip quirked, and he pulled the trigger of his double-primed flintlock.
Barto had just jumped onto the foredeck of the crippled cromster when, beneath the main deck, and just abaft the mainmast, he heard a loud, hoarse explosion, more like a large grenade than a gun, but clearly greater than either.
In the first split second after the sound, Barto realized he had heard it once before, but could not immediately place it.
In the next split second, he remembered how, when pouring a close broadside into the first galleon he had ever attacked, he hit the ship's magazine, which did not, as tales tell, go up all at once. Rather, there was a loud but muted blast that announced the first fateful ignition of a keg of powder—
And in the last split second, Barto connected the present sound with that earlier one—and thus knew that, truly, this was his last split second.
A louder, timber-ripping roar blasted deck planks upward as the full contents of the _Fleur Sable_ 's magazine detonated.
**_Pitch Lake, Trinidad_**
Behind Hugh, there was a shuddering blast that sent a tremor even through the timbers of the blockhouse's roof. He turned and saw, half a mile out to sea, tiny specks flying up in the air, smoke and flame billowing after them, chasing them into the sky. Staying low, Hugh scrambled across the roof to the northern waist-works and peeked over—just in time to see the back half of the pirate packet sink like a stone: her bow was entirely gone. As was the _Fleur Sable_. The sloop listed, engulfed in flames, and then, the ready powder for her deck guns started going off. Like explosive hammer blows, the loose charges tore apart her spar deck, section by section, until, after the fifth blast, some ember or burning chunk must have sleeted down into the reserve munitions she kept below. With a final concussive roar that rivaled the _Fleur Sable_ 's, the pirate sloop disintegrated outwards in a fury of self-annihilation.
Riijs heard the two titanic blasts as he and a dozen of his men shouldered open the tattered gate, guns in hand, looking for targets—
—and found themselves facing a dandy in the uniform of a French naval officer, four of that nation's marines standing nervously behind him, apparently uncertain whether they should raise their muskets or not.
Riijs raised his gun. This was going to be easier than he thought.
The dandy stepped forward from behind a rude barricade of wooden crates. "Monsieur, my sword."
And, as if he were on some battlefield where such things actually occurred—which Riijs secretly doubted—the Frenchman drew and proffered his sword.
Riijs stared at it, saw, from the corner of his eye, some other soldiers—mercenaries from the look of them—clambering up on a platform set against the stockade's inner, eastern face. They glanced up toward the compound's central building—a fair approximation of a blockhouse—and then, after waiting a moment for some signal that evidently did not come, went over the wall.
Before Hugh could finish recrossing the blockhouse roof back to his signaling position at the south-facing waist-works, he saw that two of his men had scrambled up one of the platforms on the east wall, and now vaulted the top of the stockade. Deserters? From _his_ ranks? No. Not unless—
Frowning, dreading the worst, he rushed to see what was happening near the gate—
Riijs stared at the Frenchman's sword, took it. Now what?
The dandy did not keep him waiting. "Naturally, we would have fought on as honor demands, but our commander, he is an Irish incompetent and all but opened our gates to you. Now he is nowhere to be seen. So shall we arrange a ransom?"
"A ransom?"
"But of course. It is the civilized option, no?"
_Ransom?_ To Riijs, this young Frenchman didn't look or act like any prince. "Who's your father?" he asked.
The dandy actually made a little bow. "I am the son of Geoffrey St. Georges of Rheims."
"And is he a duke? A count?"
"No, my father is a wealthy merchant."
"Den his son is a dead man."
Before the dandy could blink, Riijs shot him through the forehead.
Hugh saw the shot as he arrived back at the roof's southern waist-work. The French marines, stunned, raised their muskets. One was fast enough to get off a shot before they went down under a hail of pistol fire.
But not as much pistol fire as Hugh had expected. Indeed, he saw very few ready pistols still dangling from the pirates' sweaty neck-lanyards. And with St. Georges gone, there was nothing obstructing the line of sight between the storehouse and the raiders . . .
O'Rourke crawled forward from the fringe-scrub of the east woods, and tapped Fitzwilliam on the boot. He pointed out the half dozen pirates clustered around the stockade's gate. "Nice and steady now."
Fitzwilliam raised his very long flintlock. A moment passed. Another. Then he fired and immediately reached toward the loader for another of the weapons.
One of the handful of figures by the gate fell to his knees with a yell that came quite clearly over the one-hundred-thirty yards.
The rest of the Irish marksmen began to fire their long, rifled weapons. Another pirate went down. The others crouched and milled uncertainly.
O'Rourke turned back toward his other thirty men, their faces dim within the edge of the forest. Dim except for their bright, eager eyes.
"So lads, here we go. And no wastin' breath shouting 'O'Donnell Abu.' We'll chant it loud once these bastards are dead. So—up now!"
Despite the forty-odd pirates near the gate, Hugh stood up and looked back toward the storehouse.
McGillicuddy reappeared in the doorway.
Hugh raised his hand just as a loud, enraged shout warned of a figure on the roof of the blockhouse.
McGillicuddy raised his hand also.
Down below, a piece fired; a bullet clipped the wooden waist-works five inches to Hugh's left just as he brought his hand down.
McGillicuddy did likewise as he pushed open the storehouse's right-hand door—and revealed Michael's second French saker.
The crew didn't wait for the command: the weapon roared. The carnage around the gate was immediate and horrific.
Hugh gave the "lock up" sign to McGillicuddy. The crews reached out and pulled the two storehouse doors closed. Hugh ducked back down, scurried to the stairs, and descended them three at a time.
Michael was waiting at the base of the stairs, watching the blockhouse's open doorway from across its wide ground-floor room. "What the hell has gone wrong?"
"I went wrong."
"You?"
"Yes. I took a moment to check on Morraine. Who is dead." Hugh began checking and cocking his pistols.
"And let me guess, while you were gone—"
"St. Georges also went wrong, yes." Hugh looked ruefully at the open doorway. Doyle had intended to hang the door this afternoon. Too late now.
"Okay, so St. Georges messed up. No surprise. But where are his men, and yours?" McCarthy matched Hugh's worried glance at the doorway to the compound. "I kept waiting for all of them to fall back in here and—"
"They're not coming. They're dead or gone. It's just us, now."
"Us?"
"No time to talk, Michael. We've got to hold out until O'Rourke gets here. I'll cover the door."
"Well, then I'm coming along to—"
"No. You fetch the musketoon we gave you and go to the roof. Cover the door, but don't shoot too soon. Let them bunch up."
"I'm a newbie, not an idiot," Michael grumbled, and he was gone.
Hugh drew and hefted two pistols. So now it was a race between how fast the pirates could overwhelm them and how fast O'Rourke's men could get inside the compound.
Had Hugh been a betting man, he wouldn't have wasted any money betting on himself.
Riijs picked himself up off the ground, found he was one of the lucky ones who had, again, survived the grapeshot unscathed, and counted the rest. He was down to twenty-five men. But half of them were either glancing or drifting back out the gate: _fools, turning back with safety finally at hand._
However, it seemed that their flight might be short lived. Judging from shouts outside the stockade, the group he'd left with Hernandez was evidently under attack and preparing to fall back _inside_ the walls. Which probably meant a threat from the east wood—
But there was no time to think about that now. The first order of business was to take the blockhouse. The gate hung in ruins, so the stockade walls would not keep out a new threat. He had to commandeer the one remaining strongpoint. Which meant no time for better tactics, no time to reload. Just—
"Rush de blockhouse! Now!"
Hugh got to the blockhouse's reinforced doorway just as the irregular wave of pirates drew within ten feet of it, cutlasses drawn. Firing and pulling one pistol after another, Hugh dropped the first three while standing his ground but had to retreat back inside the doorway to get the next one—who sagged but did not go down. Hugh pulled his double-barreled flintlock as the rest, clumping together in their rush, came tight around the door. And Hugh thought, _Now, Michael,_ now _!_
As if on cue, there was a thunderous roar, akin to a shotgun, overhead. Two more pirates at the rear of the press went down, cursing.
But the rest surged forward. Hugh fired his flintlock's two barrels in rapid succession, and drew his saber just in time to parry the first blow from a pirate cutlass.
Once forced back from the door, Hugh had no time to plan, no time to feint, no time to trick his foes: they were all around him. He yanked out his main-gauche and was immediately glad for it. His attackers hemmed him in so tightly that he had almost no time to attack, only parry—and be grateful for every second that he remained alive. Most of the pirates were passable swordsmen, but their shorter weapons were at a disadvantage in this relatively open space. However, two of their number—and in particular, a tall, very pale, very blond, and very calm fellow—were quite good, much better than what Hugh usually encountered on European battlefields. Nevertheless, in the first ten seconds, Hugh had managed to wound two and sever another's windpipe with an unexpected backhand cut. In return, he had acquired a deep slice in his right thigh, a flesh-wound in his left arm, and a growing need to know the answer to one key question:
_Where the_ hell _is O'Rourke_?
The blond pirate, evidently the leader, must have seen Hugh's reflexive glance toward the blockhouse door. He launched a back cut that was actually a feint, taking Hugh off balance just as the true strike came in. Hugh got his main-gauche up in time to block the pirate's cutlass, but not solidly: his long-quilloned parrying dagger rang, spun out of his left hand and skittered across the floor. The blond fellow smiled: removing the main-gauche had obviously been his intent. As he came in again, two of the others followed, coordinating their attacks with their leader's—
The report of a gun, unusually loud and piercing, stopped the swordplay as abruptly as if it had stopped time itself. The blond man sagged and crumpled to the floor—revealing Michael at the base of the steps, legs braced, both hands wrapped tightly around the little gun that his father had given him. Which now spoke again and again. Six more times it fired; three more pirates went down. The last four tried bolting out the door, but Hugh was faster. He ran two through from behind, and cut down another that turned to parry. The fourth and last, falling over the bodies piled in the narrow doorway, begged for mercy that Hugh chose not to show.
When he came back into the blockhouse, he discovered that Michael was trimming the straps on his up-time backpack. Hugh leaned against the wall; he wanted to laugh, both with relief and amusement at Michael's rather bizarre choice of post-combat activity. "Going on a trip?"
Michael looked up, no smile on his face. "Uh, yeah. I've got to go. Now."
Hugh laughed, then stopped, seeing Michael's unchanged expression. "You're serious."
"Yep. Listen, you've done a great job, Hugh. Turenne is going to be very pleased, and I suspect his ship will be along soon to help you."
Hugh frowned. "You 'suspect'? You must _know_. How else were you planning to depart?"
"Well—there's another ship."
"Another—?" And then Hugh stopped and felt cold spread outward from his spine. "Another ship. The ship that Mulryan spotted farther to the east, last night."
Michael nodded. "Dutch. The _Koninck David_ , under Jakob Schooneman."
"And why do you only tell me this _now . . . ?_ " But he saw the reason before Michael could respond. "This expedition has all been an elaborate ploy, hasn't it?"
"No, the deal with Turenne is real. Sort of. He's already got his balloon and he'll get his oil— _if_ Richelieu's agents make you the best deal for it. Just as we agreed."
"Then why this skulduggery, Michael? Why not stay and—?"
"Because that's not part of the plan."
Hugh narrowed his eyes. "Whose plan?"
"Mine. And the USE's."
"So you are their agent. And now that this site has been wrested from the Spanish, will I be expected to turn it over to Gustav Adolf, or directly to you Americans?"
"No, absolutely not. It's yours."
"It's Turenne's."
"It is if he decides to make the best offer. And if you decide to sell it to him. You might want to wait a day or two, see if a better offer comes along."
Hugh frowned. "Turenne paid for this mission. All of it."
"Look, Hugh, right now you own this piece of real estate. Or rather, your 'corporation' does. But tell me, what will you do if Turenne's boss Richelieu won't offer a fair price?"
And Hugh once again suddenly found himself hobbled by his personal _Achilles_ ' heel: his reflexive tendency to put faith in self-professed allies and their promises. "I do not know what I would do. I suppose I would have to trust in Turenne's influence."
"Turenne's influence is at Richelieu's pleasure. Here's another poser for you: what if Richelieu decides he's not interested at all? What then?"
Hugh had no answer. "Then, I suppose, we are all lost."
"You suppose wrong. There are other people interested in making you an offer if Richelieu's falls through. Remember, Hugh, you own this land. Capturing it was your mission, and you've succeeded."
Hugh scoffed. "Succeeded? Michael, have you been paying attention over the past few weeks? Our 'secret' approach to Pitch Lake was obviously disclosed to our foes. Within two weeks of arriving here, we have been attacked. And although the enemy we fought was only a pirate band, we can rest assured that they learned of us from a greater power. I'm betting on Spain. Which must therefore know of our landing and, as soon as sufficient force has been gathered, will come and obliterate us. Against which we have little defense, since all of Morraine's crew is surely dead, and our only ship is lost. And you call this a success?"
But in staring long at Michael's gray eyes, Hugh saw that his arguments had made no impact. So how would this debacle still be a success for Michael and the USE? And then, he knew. "You want them to come here, don't you? All of them, and in force: the Spanish, the French, and the Dutch. Our attempt to seize Pitch Lake highlights its strategic importance. And you amplified that impression with your great show of stealth. The balloon was the masterstroke. Who would employ so special and secret a device if the stakes were not correspondingly high? And besides, it was a piece of technological bait that Turenne could neither resist nor ignore. But in reality, it was all just theater, staged to make this miserable patch of tar a seemingly irresistible object, and to draw the attention and the forces of the great powers here." He thought, then smiled. "So if you Americans want everyone's attention focused here, it only stands to reason that your real interest was to distract them, so that they will be less likely to notice when you advance on your true objective here in the New World—"
Mike suddenly grew very pale, and his gray eyes jumped sideways. "I've gotta go."
Hugh leaned back again. "You might as well admit that my conjecture is correct. The change in your color has told me as much." He glanced to confirm that Mike had indeed packed away his pistol and then smoothly brought out the boot dagger he kept as a final hold-out. "And now, having discerned your true objective, I have become a danger to its attainment. So logically, you will wish to move against me."
Michael's pallor was dramatically superseded by a bright, angry flush, and his eyes narrowed. "Damn it, Hugh, that's the first stupid thing you've said."
"How so?"
"Because part of what makes you so valuable is how damned smart you are. Which means it was always probable that you would figure this out, anyway. It's a risk that was considered, and was deemed acceptable."
"But now that I know—"
"—'Know' what? What do you really 'know'? That the Americans might be up to something in South America or Mexico or the Caribbean? If I had a dollar for every one of those rumors, I'd be a rich man. All you 'know' is that we wanted this to happen."
"And probably, in the long run, hope to own Trinidad yourselves."
But Mike was shaking his head. "No. That's not the point of this."
"Then what is?"
Michael looked away for a moment, seemed to listen—probably for O'Rourke's approach—then he met Hugh's eyes again. "Now listen carefully, Hugh. Right here, right now, you're in charge of Pitch Lake. You make the decisions. And as long as you hold this ground, you have leverage. You have something—at last—with which to bargain, something that will actually make nations pay attention to your cause and keep their promises."
Hugh blinked. He had been a captain of soldiers since before he truly needed to shave, so he was well acquainted with faces of men whose passionate determination was not only grim, but vengeful. And that expression was now set deep into the lines of Michael Jr.'s suddenly aged face. To which he addressed the question, "Why?"
"'Why' what?"
"Why do this for me? Without promise of alliance?"
Michael's eyes did not waver. "You've said it yourself: you, your family, and your nation have had a belly full of broken promises. You've been bled white by the people who strung you along on easy assurances of aid and alliance. And as the years went by, they simply turned you—all of you—into their pet war-dogs." Mike suddenly grew very red again. "No more. Not one bit more. Take this place. Bargain with it. Bargain hard. Recruit any Dutch who hate the Spanish: there are plenty. Recruit the English, who have been forsaken by their own king. Recruit the privateers who thought themselves patriots, but found themselves disowned by their own nations. It won't take many desperate men to hold this place. And if you deal fair with the natives, they'll deal fair with you."
"And how do you know that?"
"Because our Dutch friends in Suriname have been in contact with the Nepoia tribes here on Trinidad for half a year. The Nepoia's own displaced tribal king Hyarima has given Jakob Schooneman his word that he will receive your envoys and deal fair with you. With you alone, Hugh O'Donnell. Think it through, man: why do you think the Arawaks were not here when you landed? Because our Dutch partners convinced Hyarima to make war on the Arawaks, and draw them away from peripheral areas like Pitch Lake. Hyarima and the rest of the Nepoia tribes want to throw off the Spanish control of their towns, and take their lands back from the Arawaks. Armed with trade muskets from the _Koninck David_ , I suspect they're making some progress, too."
Hugh wished there was a chair to collapse into. "And so I am to simply sell Pitch Lake to the highest bidder?
Mike shrugged. "That's up to you. If Richelieu makes the best offer, it seems like you owe him the right of first refusal. But whatever you do, remember this: sitting on oil means you're sitting on both great peril and great promise. For yourself and your country. And by your country, I don't just mean the Spanish Lowlands. I mean Ireland."
Hugh felt himself suddenly, inexplicably moved. McCarthy's often veiled eyes seemed not only open, but pleading. And he felt his face smile crookedly, despite his resolve not to. "You have some of the bardic tongue of your forebears, Michael McCarthy. I shall heed your words, and watch my step."
Michael nodded, walked to the doorway, stopped, and handed Hugh a heavy cloth bag. "In case some of your enemies require a little extra persuasion," he explained, and was out the door at a trot.
Hugh heard Michael's hastening boots diminuendo toward the north end of the stockade. He heard O'Rourke's loud and worried approach from the south. He looked at the bodies littering the floor of the blockhouse. And then he looked in the leaden bag.
In an ungracious lump at the bottom he saw Michael's holstered .45, four magazines, and several boxes of ammunition. He hoped he would not need them.
But Hugh O'Donnell conceded that, before too many days had passed, he probably would.
Mike McCarthy, Jr., found Hyarima's hand-picked Nepoia scouts waiting for him just outside the stockade when he reached the platform at the center of the north wall. They tossed up a hooked line. Mike snugged the hook between two of the palisade's timbers and went down, hand over hand.
Staying on east-bound game-paths, they made good time, first moving within the tree line that paralleled the north coast, and then directly alongside the shore itself.
After approximately twenty minutes of brisk walking, Mike caught sight of a lugger beached in a small cove up ahead. The crew, two Dutch seamen, saw them coming, and stood up slowly, casually—
—the same way Ed Piazza had stood up when Mike had entered his office in Grantville almost a year ago to present him with The Plan. . . .
Mike and Ed had made small talk for a few minutes on that day, and then got down to discussing Mike's proposal. McCarthy pointed out that, with the situation changing across Europe, Simpson and Stearns must already be thinking in terms of a journey to develop and tap into some of the singular resources of the New World. "But I know that's not happening too soon," qualified Mike, "at least, not until Simpson's done building his expeditionary force."
Ed kept his posture and his face relaxed, but his voice betrayed him. In a tighter, slightly nasal accent, Ed repeated, "Not until Simpson's done _what_?"
Mike leaned back. "When I was up north on the Baltic coast a few months back, I saw the kind of ships he's building. High weather designs. More than you need if you were just going to sail around the Baltic. I also noticed his mast arrangements, as well as the smaller hulls he's been procuring. Handy, shallow-draft, fore-and-aft rigged boats. Again, not for the Baltic."
"Perfect for the Med, however."
"Sure, they'd work in the Med, except we have no reason to go there and any operations would have to start with a very high-profile run through Gibraltar. That's not been the USE's _modus operandi_ , to date. But the Caribbean—and the Gulf—is open access, and more importantly, it has something the Med doesn't."
"Oh? Like what?" Ed seemed to be trying to hide a smile now.
"Coastal oil. In a variety of places."
"True enough. And does your crystal ball reveal our hypothetical destinations there?"
"Nope, and I don't want to know. Because then I'd know too much, and you wouldn't let me leave Grantville, much less go on a Caribbean cruise."
"True enough. For now. But how can you help me if you don't even know where we're—hypothetically—going?"
"Well, part of the trouble with any move into the Caribbean and the Gulf is that there's a good bit of traffic there already. And most of it belongs either to potential rivals or outright enemies, both of whom would like nothing better than to get wind of what you're doing, and either give you hell while you're doing it or make it entirely impossible."
"Okay, so how can you fix that?"
In response, Mike made his "Pitch Lake pitch," including the use of the balloon. Ending with, "And that's why Pitch Lake is the perfect stalking horse for your _real_ operation."
"A 'stalking horse'?"
"Sure. Look, all your rivals already know that Pitch Lake exists, so you're not giving away any intelligence, right? And because it's a source of easy oil, it's going to be a pretty appealing piece of real estate, once they start thinking about it a little more. There's minimum difficulty accessing the crude, and they can boil and process a lot of what they need right out of the seeps in the lake itself."
"Go on."
"So if any colonial power in the Caribbean makes a grab for it, the others will probably wake up and follow. They all understand the importance of oil. Hell, Turenne chose to raid the field at Wietze not just to put it out of commission, but to acquire technical intelligence on oil production. So the French are thinking about using oil, which means they're thinking about getting it. And the rest can't be too far behind."
Ed tapped his goose quill lightly on the paper in front of him. "Hypothetically speaking, it might be very helpful to create a diversion in Trinidad. But we're spread so thin as it is, that—"
"I didn't say anything about _our_ taking Trinidad, did I?"
Ed stopped tapping the pen. "Why, no—no, you didn't." And he smiled. "Turenne?"
"Yep, Turenne. Indirectly, that is. You give him the opportunity to grab Pitch Lake and get a leg-up on hot air ballooning all in one fell swoop, and he'll take the bait. Even if he suspects he's being played. But he won't have the authority to seize a Spanish possession himself, so he'd have to bankroll a 'free company' of independent speculators. From whom France can then buy the property they've 'acquired.'"
Ed frowned. "That's a pretty small legal fig leaf."
"It's a giant palm frond compared to the legal contortions the Dutch and the Brits have undertaken to justify some of their 'rightful conquests.' But that's okay, because the more ambiguous the French claim is, the more contention there will be. Meaning France will have to send some local forces quickly to protect her ownership. Spain will attempt a swift reconquest, so they'll need to use local forces, too."
Ed's frown had not disappeared. "I'm not sure the news that Pitch Lake is up for grabs will make its way to Havana and Cartagena as quickly as you're hoping, Mike."
"Then we help it along by leaking it selectively. Some of the Dutch traders that young Phil Jenkins traveled with last year could spread a few rumors in the right ports, at the right time. And the resulting clustering effect around Trinidad should reduce the general traffic in the other parts of the Caribbean. Which gives Admiral Simpson, or whoever he sends, a freer hand and more open waters to make a run to—well, to wherever they're going."
"Mike, I won't deny it: your plan has some promise. But there's one hitch."
"What's that?"
"Hugh O'Donnell. His willing cooperation is central to your plan's success."
"Absolutely."
"Well, from what I know of him, this isn't exactly his style. Ethically speaking, that is. What you're contemplating is just half a step shy of outright land-piracy. If that much. What if O'Donnell decides he just doesn't want to play?"
"He'll play. He _has_ to, Ed. He's learned some difficult things about his future. So he needs to make a change, a big change."
"Okay, but how do we, um . . . 'guide' him into believing that leading an overseas land-grab is the right way to go about making this kind of change?"
"By using a carrot and a stick."
"Huh. I can see the carrot: money, power, and influence are all needful things for an estranged earl. But the stick?"
Mike rubbed his nose, looked away. This was the part he loathed. "Once Hugh leaves Spanish employ, we could lead him to believe that he needs a new patron. Really quickly."
"And how do we do that?"
"Hugh grew up knowing that his godmother, Archduchess Isabella, was shielding him from English assassins. One of The O'Neill's young sons, Brian, was strangled in Brussels about eighteen years ago when his keepers got careless one evening."
"Okay, but O'Donnell is no boy. He won't scare easily."
"No, but if he thinks his presence poses a threat to those he cares about, he'll want to put some hefty distance between himself and them. And that, of course, will give him a strong incentive to snap up any reasonable opportunity to pursue his goals overseas. At least for a while."
"Okay, I'll buy that. It fits his character. But how do you propose to convince him that he's got this kind of immediate bull's-eye painted on his back?"
Mike squared his shoulders. "We hire the necessary agents through our contacts in the underworld and stage an abduction attempt."
"We have 'contacts' in the underworld?"
"Ed, as I understand it, the Abrabanels and their partners not only know whose closets contain which skeletons, but also which confidential agents were responsible for making the skeletons in the first place."
"Ahem . . . okay, I'm still listening."
"So, we go through those 'channels' to recruit a pair of apparent kidnappers."
"And what would their orders be?"
"Simple: to make a 'gentle' attempt to capture the man wearing the earl of Tyrconnell's cloak. Which I'll make sure that _I_ have on when they come calling."
"You? Why should you be the shill for your own con game, Mike?"
Michael felt like vomiting. "Because Hugh has adopted Dad and me like we're family. If one or both of us are threatened because of him—"
Ed nodded. "Then he'll feel guilt and be more tractable, easy to guide, particularly overseas where you'd both be out of harm's way. Okay, but how do we keep you and Hugh safe during this sham abduction? What if the kidnappers get a little too, um, enthusiastic when they try to grab you, or resist O'Donnell?"
"We tell our hirelings to use minimal force, and that if they kill or even wound either the mark or his friends, they get no pay."
"Won't that make the kidnappers suspicious?"
Mike shook his head. "Not if we make it clear that the point of the kidnapping is extortion. When the objective is to acquire surreptitious leverage over people, you can't kill the hostage, or their family, or their friends. Any 'professional' will understand that. So we explain that if the abduction is too difficult to manage safely, it's enough that they give the mark a good scare."
Ed smiled, stood. "Y'know, Mike, this plan might work. I'll think it over and send word in a couple of days." He put out his hand—
Now Michael found himself staring at a different hand—that of a Dutch sailor who was offering to help him into the lugger. Michael took the hand and let himself be guided over the side of the boat. He wondered at the sudden weakness in his limbs, wondered at the wetness on his cheeks, wondered how he had been able to betray O'Donnell, and wondered why the rationalizations he had repeated to himself every day since leaving Ed's office just didn't make the self-loathing go away.
But here—surrounded by Nepoias and common Dutch seamen who probably didn't understand one word of English—he could whisper the real, gut-level, impolitic truth of why he had so profoundly and horribly manipulated the life of Hugh Albert O'Donnell:
"He's their only hope," Mike confessed to the shining waters in a murmur that barely got past the thick ache in his throat. "His family, his men, his country: they'll be dying even sooner, now—unless Hugh can get enough leverage to save them."
But if the Nepoias or the Dutchmen had even heard Michael, they gave no sign. Instead, without a word, they swung the lugger's prow around and began a swift run across the bright blue bay toward the waiting _Koninck David_ , and ultimately, a rendezvous with the allies Hugh didn't even know he had.
For McCarthy, the presence of the _Koninck David_ was a message in itself, the text of which read: _we have found Tromp's fleet and they are coming_. And if the fates were kind, Tromp's ships would already have linked up with Simpson's advance recon flotilla, which was carrying a letter from the infanta Isabella to Hugh. That probably lengthy missive was all at once a plea, an explanation, and an apology from the one person in power that the attainted earl truly trusted. But Michael was uncertain that any of Hugh's trust would survive a reading of that letter's explication of the many half-truths, deceptions, and wiles that had made possible his seizure of Trinidad.
Michael McCarthy felt his throat tighten again. He stared at the sun's reflection upon the scudding wavelets, letting that light burn into his brain, burn away the guilt, help him to think of nothing.
**_Off Saba, Lesser Antilles_**
Of all the officers and ground crew gathered at the _Intrepid_ 's mizzen, only Ove Gjedde seemed immune to yawns. Staring up where the balloon tether disappeared into the predawn dark, Eddie Cantrell was not the only one who yearned for the comfort of his bunk, but he may have yearned for it more than most. Of them all, only he had a wife in his bed, a wife who often awakened right about now. It would not have been accurate to say that she then arose, but rather, that she drowsily greeted the day and her husband—amorously—before catching another two or three hours of post-coital slumber.
But instead of that wonderful conjugal greeting, Eddie was waiting to see what came sparking down the telegraph wire that was secured to the balloon's mooring cable. Which, he decided, was a pretty lousy trade. At least some of his command staff, such as Rik Bjelke, were still catching shut-eye. On Eddie's orders, no less.
Mutiny was apparently in the early morning breeze, though: Rik Bjelke appeared in the companionway that led down to the staterooms. "Captain, Commander: any news?"
Eddie tried to frown. "Nothing except a discussion about how long you're going to be thrown in the brig. What are you doing out of your bunk, mister?"
Rik was smiles and apologies as he made his way over to Eddie and Gjedde. "My pardons, sirs, but I could not sleep. Not even with an extra swallow of brandy. Too eager to hear the news, I suppose."
Which, Eddie conceded, was certainly understandable, but wasn't any help. "Mr. Bjelke, I appreciate your interest in the results of our reconnaissance, but as the day wears on, I need someone at the con who was not already awake at the end of the middle watch. That was supposed to be you."
Rik glanced up into the darkness sheepishly. "Yes, sir. My apologies. I could go below, try to drink more brandy." Gjedde's mouth twitched to resist the emergence of a smile.
Eddie sighed. "Well, I'd rather have you tired than drunk, Rik. You might as well stay on deck until we get word."
"Which should be soon," Gjedde said with a look eastward. The rim of the world was no longer satin black, but dark, downy gray.
Rik's glance traveled from the balloon cable to the reefed sails. "Where are we, just now?"
Eddie felt the wind rise to about two knots, then settle again, and he wondered what their observer in the balloon was experiencing. "St. Eustatia is about twenty-eight miles south-by-southeast. Saba is about fifteen miles south-by-southwest. At about five-hundred-fifty feet altitude, our observer reported seeing multiple light sources in what should be Oranjestad. That's probably good news. The number of original settlers wouldn't generate enough light—or the right type—to be visible at 0400 hours."
"That's wonderful!" Bjelke exclaimed. "So Tromp is there!"
Gjedde's voice was much cooler than the breeze. "Or the Spanish. In which case, Oranjestad has been conquered and we must reformulate our plans."
As if to rebuff the gloom of the Norwegian's caveat, the first bright rim of the sun pushed over the wine-dark horizon. Far above them, the gray-blue canopy of the balloon seemed to materialize out of the diffusing darkness, catching the first feeble rays a moment before they also glowed faintly against the spars and gunwales of the _Intrepid_.
Eddie knew there wasn't light enough for the observer to see clearly yet—that would take a little longer—but he still found himself listening for the first chattering of the telegraph that would announce the fateful report from aloft.
Rik's hands were moving nervously. A glance from Gjedde had the young man fold them quickly behind his back. "So," Bjelke said in a tone that suggested he was casting about for a subject, "evidently no encounters with the Spanish when we passed Saint Maarten?"
"None," answered Eddie. "Captain Gjedde timed our pass perfectly." Which, despite sounding like hyperbole, was a simple statement of fact. True to his intent and his word, Ove Gjedde, piloting for the fleet at Mund's insistence, had slowed Reconnaissance Flotilla X-Ray's approach into the Caribbees so that at 9 PM, they were approximately fourteen miles northwest of St. Maarten. Crowding sail once the last light was out of the western sky, the flotilla ran past the Spanish-held island at a distance of ten miles, each darkened vessel running but one small light well beneath the weather deck of its starboard quarter. Traveling in a westward-staggered echelon, the ships of Reconnaissance Flotilla X-Ray thus presented the potential Spanish watch posts to their east with their lightless portside hulls. The piloting task was not difficult for the ships that followed the path blazed by Gjedde. Each one only needed to keep the starboard-quarter light of the ship in front of them one point off their own port bow.
However, that meant that the success of the passage had been wholly dependent upon Gjedde's ability to maneuver southward into lightless seas on a fairly precise and constant heading. Nonetheless, over the course of the six hours it had taken to sail to their current position on a close reach, the grizzled captain had given fewer than ten commands in accomplishing this feat. This did not count the occasional corrective grunt or gesture when the prevailing winds from the east edged northward and threatened them with the prospect of having to run close hauled.
Eddie discovered that, like everyone else, he was staring up the increasingly visible cable toward the balloon overhead, as if the observer might shout something down. Instead, the telegraph finally began to clatter in the below-decks communications center, too fast and muted for Eddie to make out the message.
The clattering did not last long, which was either a very good, or a very bad, sign. The comm officer's young assistant came up the steep stairs that seamen called a "ladder" two steps at a time and handed a slip to Ove Gjedde. Whose slow, expressionless perusal of it was quite maddening.
Eddie resolved to show no more emotion or anticipation than Gjedde and so, when the older captain proffered the slip to him, he shrugged. "I'm sure Mr. Bjelke would enjoy summarizing it for us." Judging from Rik's nervous foot movements and florid face, this was a very safe conjecture.
Gjedde's lips twitched as he handed it off to his young fellow-Norwegian.
Rik's eyes raced across the lines as he breathlessly summarized. "Approximately thirty hulls observed in Oranjestad Bay. Many have outlines discernible as jachts and fluyts. Although it is difficult to see sufficient details, a large encampment is noted surrounding the town. Its layout is not consistent with a military bivouac." He looked up. "Tromp and the refugees from Recife. It has to be—doesn't it?"
Eddie was surprised by Gjedde's sharp nod. "Unquestionably. But not because of the encampment. The whole colony could have surrendered, after all. And they'd still be living in camp conditions, anyhow."
"Then how are you so sure it is Tromp?" Bjelke asked.
By way of answer, Gjedde glanced sideways at Eddie. Who, although new in his mastery of things maritime, had a life-long interest in and aptitude for things military and strategic. "The types of ships reported, Rik, particularly the jachts. They wouldn't be present if the Spanish took Oranjestad."
Gjedde completed the explanation. "Dutch jachts are among the fastest and most maneuverable boats in the world, Mr. Bjelke, and they certainly hold that pride of place here in the Caribbean, along with the smaller sloops patterned after the Bermudan kind. So if the Spanish fought Tromp, or attacked Oranjestad, they could not have captured so many of them. They, at least, would make good their escapes. Yet there they are, present in the bay. And the fluyts are the further assurance of Tromp's presence and continued control. The Dutch who first settled St. Eustatia had, at most, but two or three such vessels at their disposal. And I suspect if the Spanish had taken such ships along with the town, they would have used those same vessels to deport the colonists to Cuba." He scowled. "It is Spanish mercy, you see. Instead of killing colonists who have violated Madrid's popish _inter caetera_ right to all lands west of the Tordesillas line, they take those trespassers to Cuba, where they can be more charitably kept in chains and worked to death. That's what happened to the first Dutch colony on Saba, if I recall the reports properly."
"So, what now?" asked Rik.
Again Gjedde turned to Eddie. "At this point, I believe we are to turn to you for special instructions, Commander."
Cantrell shrugged. "Not exactly, but I'll need to be on hand for the initial contact and negotiations when we reach Oranjestad." _Because there are some parts of this operation that remain very much need-to-know, and therefore, are topics for one-on-one conversations with the folks at the very apex of Oranjestad's military food chain._ "Runner,"—he turned to the boy who'd brought the message—"return to the communications center and inform the duty officer to send to the _Crown of Waves_ that she is to pick up the waiting diplomatic parties on _Resolve_ and _Patentia_ and rendezvous with us. She will then precede the _Intrepid_ by three miles as both ships press on to Oranjestad at best speed. The rest of the flotilla will follow."
**_Oranjestad Bay, St. Eustatia_**
It was just after 9:30 that a skerry launched from a Dutch jacht drew alongside _Crown of Waves_ , which was running with the tompions still in her cannon's muzzles. Of the four men in the small boat, two reached up to take hold of the short boarding stairs that had been put over the side. Once on deck, they stared at the group gathered before them—Eddie, Pros Mund, and the personal secretary of Hannibal Sehested—and then up at the ensign-staff just behind the Danish jacht's taffrail, where no less than four flags were flying: those of the United States of Europe, of the Union of Kalmar, Gustav Adolf's house standard of Vasa, and a diplomatic pennant of Prince Frederik Hendrik of Orange.
The older of the two gestured around at the _Crown_ 's weather deck. "This is a Dutch ship, but you are not dressed as Dutchmen, nor do I know any of you."
Eddie looked to Pros Mund. Who, in keeping with his taciturn nature, simply nodded and spoke in passable Dutch. "You are correct in all these observations." He switched to Amideutsch. "One of my officers will explain." He folded his arms and then nodded at Eddie.
_Well, that was gracious_. Eddie simply smiled and put out a hand. "I am Commander Edward Cantrell of the United States of Europe. From Grantville."
Their visitors' eyebrows rose markedly at the word "Grantville." The older of the two extended a hand. "We are pleased to see you, Commander. Very pleased. I am Philip Serooskereken and this is Matieu Rijckewaert. We welcome you to Oranjestad." He smiled. And he waited.
Which was, Eddie reflected, perfectly understandable. Living in the unremitting fear of Spanish discovery, two ships—one of which is the immense and oddly shaped _Intrepid_ —arrive out of nowhere, running a bewildering array of flags that had no reason to be on the same ship, and one of which was the ensign of their own Prince of Orange. What, then, were these ships? Harbingers of strange news from home? An elaborate ruse that bordered on the surreal? Or—the most nail-biting alternative of all—the arrival of long-prayed-for succor from home and/or allies? Well, no reason to keep them wondering. "Mr. Serooskereken, I believe that Admiral Tromp is, well, not exactly expecting us, but had reason to hope for our arrival. It is imperative that we meet with him at once to discuss—"
But Serooskereken was shaking his head. "I am sorry, but I must inform you that the admiral is not in port—"
_Not in port? Damn it, what's happened?_
"—but that Councilor van Walbeeck may be able to answer your questions, and may have also been told to expect you."
_So van Walbeeck made it here alive, and it sounds like he's serving as Oranjestad's senior political leader. That's good. But still—_ "Excellent. We look forward to meeting with Councilor van Walbeeck, but I wonder if you could tell me where the admiral has traveled to, and with how many ships?"
Serooskereken's experience as a political figure was becoming increasingly evident. He redirected Eddie's inquiry with an easy gesture and relaxed smile. "I suspect Councilor van Walbeeck will be eager to discuss these and many other matters with you. In the meantime, let us arrange for the berthing of your two ships at adequate anchorages and then depart for—"
"With respect, Councilor Serooskereken, we'll need to arrange for seven berths, not two. The rest of our flotilla should be here by three o'clock or so."
Serooskereken's eyes widened, as did his smile. "Seven ships? Well, that is very good news indeed, Commander. The mate in the skerry can arrange the anchorages with your chief pilot, I'm sure. In the meantime, allow me to offer you the hospitality of Oranjestad." His smile buckled. "Such as it is."
Eddie glanced over the man's shoulder. Now less than a mile off their port bow, the tent-city that had burgeoned into existence around the skirts of the original colony's few permanent buildings was starkly visible. While it was neither ramshackle nor particularly dirty, it was strikingly crowded and makeshift.
And suddenly, Eddie was seeing the tent-city that had gathered around Grantville mere months after it had fallen into this world. Refugees had heard of the miraculous town from the future, a self-proclaimed safe-haven for victims of the intensifying Thirty Years' War that up-timer intervention ultimately diffused into a much less sweeping and destabilizing set of conflicts. The promise of food and warmth, as well as an absolute guarantee of religious toleration, had attracted the tired, the poor, and the huddling, hungry masses like moths to a single, distant flame of hope. Yes, Eddie was well-acquainted with the realities of tent-cities, even in one that seemed to be nestled in an island paradise: the smells, the near-despair, the staring eyes and hollow cheeks—
"We look forward to sharing some refreshment with you," he assured Serooskereken brightly. "And of course, you won't mind us bringing some gifts from back home. And some supplies we were tasked to carry for you."
The Dutch councilor looked like he might faint from delight. "No. We would not mind. Not at all."
"Then while you work out the berthing for our ships, we'll signal to our larger vessel to meet us ashore with the gifts and some of the supplies. The balance of the shipment is being carried on our other ships. So if you could arrange for a few lighters—"
"They will be waiting at the anchorages," Serooskereken assured Eddie with an eager nod, and then he followed Pros Mund's gesture toward the _Crown of Waves_ ' pilot. After a bemused glance at Eddie, the nominative admiral of Reconnaissance Flotilla X-Ray stalked toward the bows, hands behind his back.
Sehested's secretary, who was also the coordinating purser for the flotilla, turned a bright smile on Eddie as soon as both Mund and Serooskereken were out of easy earshot. His eyes were panicked, however. "Commander, I am, er, dismayed. I was not aware that we are carrying gifts for Oranjestad. And I would certainly have noticed it on our cargo manifests if the flotilla's collective lading included any general supplies for—"
Eddie turned an equally bright smile on Lord Sehested's secretary and made his eyes very hard. "You are mistaken. We are carrying both gifts and supplies for this colony. The gifts are coming from the officers' messes on this ship, and the _Intrepid_. Collect all their discretionary provisions and deliver them to Councilor van Walbeeck. He has a reputation for being evenhanded and honest. You will do the same with all the comestibles of the officers' messes on the other ships when they arrive at anchorage."
"But—!"
"I'm not done. You will then off-load thirty percent of the reserve rations on board the _Patentia_ and the _Serendipity_ as general supplies, again delivered to the attention and discretion of van Walbeeck. He'll know where it's needed most."
"Sir, I must protest. I cannot be held accountable for mission provisioning if our own dried and durable foodstuffs are so severely diminished at the outset of our—"
"We already have replacement provisioning waiting for us on Trinidad, acquired from the Nepoia tribes. So we will be fully restocked within a fortnight." _Please, please let me be telling the truth._
The secretary was momentarily mollified but retained an erect posture of prim disapproval. "Very well, sir, but surely, given the ladies aboard the _Intrepid_ , and the noble personages aboard the _Patentia_ , you cannot mean that their messes are to be _completely_ transferred to—"
"I said clean them out, and that is precisely what I mean. And not another question about it."
"And if your wife protests?"
"She won't." _She's made of sterner stuff than you, evidently._
"And if any of the nobles, such as Lord Sehested, should complain?"
"Then they can come see me."
The master purser's voice took on a sinuous quality. "Lord Sehested might expect you to be responsive to his desires to exclude his mess from these unexpected depletions."
"Unfortunate. Because if he does complain, the only response he can reasonably expect from me is 'too bad.'" _And maybe "go to hell" and a punch in the nose if he insists too often or too loudly._
"Sir, my duties bind me to convey your exact words to Lord Sehested. Are you aware of that?"
"Aware of it? I'm counting on it." _I hope I'm not buying a political battle over a few hogsheads of dried beef, but if Sehested turns out to be a self-indulgent grandee who expects life in the field to resemble life at court, then we might as well have it out now. I can't afford to have class-privilege crap popping up if we face some_ real _hardships._
"Commander Cantrell!" called Serooskereken as he returned from the jacht's taffrail. "I have arranged the anchorage and we are ready to depart. When would it be convenient for your party to join us ashore?"
Eddie glanced at the signalman who was sending prearranged messages via semaphore to the _Intrepid_ , then smiled at the Dutch councilor. "How about right now?"
**_Oranjestad Bay, St. Eustatia_**
Anne Cathrine looked up at the humble battlements of Fort Oranjestad and saw Eddie's silhouette as he strolled there with the other civil and military commanders. She repressed—barely—a surge of offended pride: _I should be up there, too._
And if it hadn't been for the Swedes on the mission, she might very well have been. But the suspicions that had kept her from joining Eddie as he worked on the fleet in Luebeck had followed her, albeit indirectly, into the flotilla itself. Although reunited with her husband, there were still meetings from which she was excluded, plans to which she was not made privy. Most of that was due to the hard-line Swedes who had insisted that their nation's long-range plans were no business of the Danish royal family, not until tests and time had demonstrated that Copenhagen's commitment to the forcibly reconstituted Union of Kalmar was genuine and robust. Gustav Adolf could certainly have overridden those exclusionary stipulations, but Anne Cathrine had to concede that it was a wise king who chose his domestic battles with care, and the Swedish monarch had evidently allowed his hard-liners this minor victory. After all, it cost him little and made them feel useful.
But Anne Cathrine could not overlook the lesser source of her exclusions from Eddie's business: Eddie himself. In fairness to Eddie, she knew that he would have trusted her with the hidden details of their mission. But the captains and kings who had come to control the shape and fate of his stratagems were not similarly minded. As Eddie had apologetically explained to her, knowledge of various elements of their mission to the New World were on a "need-to-know" basis: a peculiar, hyphenated phrase that had the pragmatic, engineered sound typical of so many other up-time political and military expressions. Eddie assured her that even he, himself, was not fully briefed on all elements of the voyage: he was carrying a set of sealed orders and letters about which he knew next to nothing, to be delivered to a person he had never met.
"Step careful, m'lady," prompted a voice at her elbow. Anne Cathrine looked over at the escort that had been assigned to her and her two companions: a group of Dutch soldiers led by an Englishman named Cuthbert Pudsey, who jerked his own eyes downward hastily. It was to his credit that he had been tutored not to steer a noblewoman by the elbow, but at this moment, it might have been helpful if he had been a bit less proficient in etiquette. Anne Cathrine followed his eyes downward—just in time to see her foot descending toward a low pile of goat dung. Unable to stop her momentum, she hitched up her skirts and cleared it in one graceful hop, much to the delight of a boy who stood waiting beside the odiferous muck with a crude wooden shovel.
She nodded thanks to Pudsey. "Happily, it seems no one else shall have to hazard the same obstacle I did." She glanced meaningfully back at the boy who was already scooping up the dung.
Pudsey frowned in momentary confusion. Then his face brightened. "M'lady, it please ye, but cleaning the street is the lesser part of his work." When Anne Cathrine's face registered no more understanding than Leonora's or Sophie's behind her, he explicated. "We're careful using wood, on a small island such as this, ladies, and we've not had new axes for more'n a year. So, when a fire is wanted for something other than cooking—" He let the sentence hang unfinished.
Anne Cathrine nodded. _Well, that explains the smell._ Following Pudsey's guiding gesture, she continued walking toward a small paddock that backed upon the windward wall of the fort. A tent, arrayed pavilion-style, was pitched therein, under which a most ancient fellow sat on an upended cask, hands on his knees. As the ladies approached, he tilted his head back and squinted, as if the ten yards separating him from them were in fact ten miles. As Anne Cathrine neared, he labored to rise.
As one, the three women rushed toward the old man, exhorting him to remain seated. He—a wrinkled, sun-browned raisin—did not heed them, but rose, and spoke in fluent Dutch. "Ladies, I am told you have just come ashore from the ships recently arrived in our bay, and that you are persons attached to the Danish court." He actually bowed. "Greetings and felicitations to you all. I am your servant, Ambrósio Fernandes Brandão, and have been asked by our illustrious senior Councilor, Jan van Walbeeck to answer what questions you might have about this place and our condition here."
Before Anne Cathrine could think how to best reply to this grandiloquent greeting, quiet Leonora stepped forward with unusual eagerness. "You are that Ambrósio Brandão who authored the __Dialogues_ of the Greatness of Brazil_?"
Anne Cathrine suspected that very little rattled or surprised the wizened, white-locked sage, but this inquiry had precisely that effect. He swayed a bit and smiled, showing that a full two-thirds of his teeth remained in his head. "I am he, but how—how do you know my name?"
Leonora had, over the years, been introduced to many of the crowned heads of Europe and, in her words, an "interminable" number of their direct off-spring. Never had Anne Cathrine heard her one-quarter as excited as she was now. "Dr. Brandão—for you are also a physician, if I recall correctly—your work on the flora and fauna and natural sciences of Brazil is one of the primary reasons I commenced learning Dutch. I wished to read your work myself one day. All who have read it speak most highly of not only its unusual eloquence, but its exacting observations."
Brandão gabbled like a startled turkey for a moment. Anne Cathrine could barely suppress her smile. _Hardly the mien of a dignified sage. And here is my own beloved sister acting like—what is Eddie's term?—a geek. Or maybe her behavior is better defined by the expression "fan-girl"—except, to be categorized as such, she must emit a sound akin to "squee." Which she has not done. Yet._
Brandão had recovered enough to ask leave to sit. The three young women nearly fell over each other helping him to re-perch upon his empty, up-ended cask. "My dear Princess Leonora—"
"Doctor, please. I am but a king's daughter, and to you, Leonora."
"Then my dear Leonora, I am at a loss for words. So you have read the __Dialogues__ in Dutch?"
Leonora's large brown eyes stared at the ground. "I must confess I have not." Her eyes came back up quickly. "But not for lack of interest. I had no opportunity. Father was uncertain whether I would derive sufficient benefit from the book, and so did not instruct his purchasers in _Amsterdam_ to acquire it. And then the war intervened, so—" Leonora held up her hands in a display of futility.
"I see. I wonder that your royal father was so dubious about your interest in the _Dialogues_. They are not so very difficult, and you must be fourteen, now, yes?"
"Well, yes, but my interest in your book is not a new phenomenon."
"No? When did you conceive of a desire to read it?"
"When I was seven," Leonora answered promptly. And in such a matter-of-fact tone that it was quite clear that there was not the faintest bit of pride or ego behind her reply.
"Ah, er, I see," replied Brandão, whose brief glance at Anne Cathrine was filled with incredulity and no small measure of alarm at Leonora's intellectual precocity. All Anne Cathrine could do was smile and shrug. Which seemed to settle the old man into accepting that the young woman before him was exactly what she seemed: one of the most extraordinarily gifted intellects he had ever encountered. "Well, Princes—my dear Leonora, I suspect that the book exists in Councilor van Walbeeck's personal library, and I would be surprised if he would not consent to lend it to you. But there will be much time to see to that. Let me first discharge my duty as your guide to this place." He glanced more inclusively at all three women. "Surely, you must have some questions?"
Anne Cathrine nodded. "More than we may ask in any one sitting, Doctor. But you might start by telling us how you—I mean, _all_ of you—came to be here. We heard rumor that Admiral Tromp had reached Recife, but with only a handful of ships. However, now we find you here with a veritable fleet."
Brandão nodded. "A quick telling will do much injury to the tale, but for now, that is all that time permits. It happened thusly: the ship that brought me back to Recife from Europe in 1633 was the same one which, departing but three weeks later, carried Councilor van Walbeeck back to the Dutch Republic to report on conditions in Brazil, along with the governor of Dutch Brazil, Dierick van Waerdenburgh. Their crossing had an unexpectedly eventful conclusion: they ran into the blockade the Spanish imposed after winning the Battle of Dunkirk, ultimately finding safe harbor in some small port town on the Frisian Islands."
Brandão shrugged. "So, ironically, van Walbeeck and Admiral Tromp passed each other on the high seas, the latter arriving in Recife mere weeks after the former departed. The two working together would probably have quelled much of the dispute and debate that arose over leaving Recife."
Anne Cathrine shook her head. "But was the decision to abandon the colony not obvious? How was Recife to survive, after the rest of the Dutch fleet was sunk at the Battle of Dunkirk? It was an isolated enclave on a Portuguese coast."
"Lady Anne Cathrine, your ready wisdom would have been an aid in those councils. Our position was made more dire by the colony's inability to support itself. As had been the case since its founding, almost ninety percent of the non-native population of Recife was military. It was profitable in that it exported sugar, but it could not feed itself, and depended upon the Provinces for all its staples.
"But men who have sacrificed much, including the comfort of their homeland, to pursue the goal of becoming wealthy landowners in the New World are not easily convinced to abandon that which they have gained at so dear a cost. Admiral Tromp was hard put to build a consensus to forsake Recife, was harder put still to formulate a plan whereby he was able to evacuate the almost 2700 souls that required relocation. I doubt he would have been able to do it without help from two key persons: a local farm owner named Calabar and the pirate Moses Cohen Henriques."
Leonora leaned forward. "A pirate named 'Moses Cohen'? He is a convert—a _converso_ —from Judaism?"
Brandão nodded. "As am I: a _murrano_. Specifically, a Portuguese of Sephardic birth. He is actually somewhat renowned."
The voice that amplified the old doctor's assertion was thoroughly unexpected. "Henriques was instrumental in ensuring Piet Hein's victory and seizure of the Spanish treasure fleet at the Battle of Matanzas Bay seven years ago," supplied Sophie Rantzau. The corner of her mouth curved slightly as all the eyes in the group turned towards her in surprise. "I do take up the occasional pamphlet or book," she explained. "And, Dr. Brandão, I take it that Henriques was an acquaintance of yours?"
The octogenarian nodded. "It is as you conjecture, Lady Sophie. It was through me that his initial participation was coordinated with Admiral Tromp's commanders in Recife. Moses has—well, _had_ —an island that he used as a base off the Brazilian coast. This became a staging area for the evacuation, allowing us to make preparations beyond the gaze of the uninformed persons of Recife, as well as the eyes of whatever informers certainly lurked there. Meanwhile, Calabar's knowledge of the region around Recife guided the maneuvers that both misled the Portuguese at their citadel of Bom St. Jesus and the surrounding native tribes as to our ultimate intents."
"Still," put in Pudsey from behind the ladies, "it were a most delicate dance, right before we left. Tromp offered the _creoles_ —who would have refused to go, anyway—double wages to build another fort, further up the bay. When they finished it the day before the evacuation began, it became their prison for a few weeks. Got 'em neatly out from underfoot, it did, and no one harmed in the doing of it. But it were a delicately dance, as I say."
Brandão nodded. "Delicate and complex. Because of the size of the population and the materials needed for resettlement, the relocation was too great to effect all at once. So it was conducted in stages. A small number of troops and the majority of the strictly civilian colonists—including my own Sephardic community, which enjoyed freedom of worship in Recife—were taken by a limited number of ships here to St. Eustatia.
"Meanwhile, under the guise of a quarantine, access to Recife from the countryside was restricted for some time. By then, the rest of the population—the soldiers and, in many cases, their families—were evacuated as well. Slightly more than three hundred souls chose to expand the Dutch colony already present on Tobago. That left almost two thousand persons, mostly soldiers, to be carried by approximately thirty-five ships, all the way from Recife to here. It was a journey of some privation. It consumed all but a small measure of our dried foods."
"How did you live, afterward?" Anne Cathrine wondered. "Did many starve?"
"No, not outright, Lady Anne Cathrine. But the first months were not kind to the very young, the very elderly, or the ailing. Nearly a hundred such persons perished in those first weeks. Sadly, since the Dutch have long experience in the vagaries of colonial life, they were prepared for such an outcome, and consequently, that grim cost did not have the additional sting of being a surprise.
"It would have been much worse, had Tromp not had the foresight to send us civilians on ahead, in enough time to get in most of a growing season before the balance of the evacuees arrived. After we early arrivals had acquainted the colony that was already here with the size of the resettlement that was pending,"—Anne Cathrine noted wince-spawned wrinkles shoot across Brandão's forehead as he tactfully skirted how the refugees had effectively usurped control of the original Oranjestad colony—"we both put new land under tillage and made contact with Governor Warner of St. Christopher to secure the necessary sustenance. Even so, food was, and remains, in short supply." The doctor smiled. "You will find few rotund Dutch gentlemen here, I am afraid. But we manage."
Sophie looked solemnly over the tents that radiated outward from the permanent structures of Oranjestad in mostly even rows. "Still, there must be considerable difficulties. Wastes, for one."
Cuthbert Pudsey rubbed his chin. "We are, eh, encouraged to stroll into the surf when nature calls loudest, m'lady. Not all do, but there's a fine for, eh, being repeatedly uncooperative."
Sophie nodded. "And fresh water?"
Brandão shook his head. "It is still rationed, almost as closely as our foodstuffs, Lady Sophie. Thanks to our many strong-backed soldiers, we were able to build cisterns quickly. But after one season spent in tents during the storm season, their labor was shifted to building permanent shelters as soon as our water supplies were even marginally sufficient." His face fell. "Unfortunately, the temperament that leads a man to become a soldier for coin is often quite unsuited for tasks such as building and farming. Tensions—of all sorts—remain high."
Anne Cathrine heard a host of unspoken problems hovering behind the doctor's conclusion, given weight by Pudsey's own grumble at what he clearly considered an immense understatement of the present challenges. Anne Cathrine looked out over the tents, then back at the bay, where Reconnaissance Flotilla X-Ray had arrived, the comparative immensity of _Intrepid_ and _Resolve_ creating a strange shrinkage in the apparent size of the other vessels. She focused particularly on the _Intrepid_ , where her comfortable stateroom and bed (an actual bed aboard ship!) waited for her at the end of the day. Was it wrong to be glad for the clean linens and comfortable pillows of that bed? Was it wrong for her to have been the slightest bit annoyed when the _Intrepid_ 's purser arrived, hat in hand, to explain that the choice delicacies in the officers' mess and the ladies' own private larder were being appropriated "to help the colonists"?
She was not sure if those selfish twinges made her a lesser person. For all she knew, Eddie himself had felt something similar when he had ordered the transfer of all those fine foods. But that hadn't stopped him from doing so immediately, reflexively. She looked up at the battlements. Eddie's silhouette had moved farther down the wall of the fort and was distinguishable from the others only because of his slight limp. She frowned; that meant he was deathly tired. But that would not stop her Eddie: it never did, any more than considerations of wealth or class or race or sex or religion did. Which might be, she thought with an almost girlish flutter behind her breastbone, why she adored him so very much.
**_Fort Oranjestad, St. Eustatia_**
Eddie Cantrell nodded farewell to Hannibal Sehested as the group that was leaving to take stock of conditions in Oranjestad began retracing their steps to the stairs down from the ramparts.
The initial gathering had been a large one. Every commander and councilor and aristocrat from both the flotilla and St. Eustatia had met to share schnapps, stories, and get the measure of each other. Now, the councilors and aristocrats were finally departing, led by Phipps Serooskereken. Trailing in his wake, Hannibal Sehested, Rik Bjelke, and the original governor of the colony, Pieter van Corselles, exchanged comments on the relations with the English of St. Christopher's and Nevis. Following behind were three councilors who seemed to be Tromp supporters—Calendrini, Carpentiere, and Van der Haghen—and an equal number who glared balefully whenever the admiral or his policies were mentioned: De Bruyn, Haet, and Musen. However, the six of them had been on good behavior and mostly stayed on neutral conversational ground: the stories of their escape from Recife.
Which, from the sound of it, had been a pretty dicey proposition. Tromp and the rest of the military were in agreement that, in the wake of the disastrous Battle of Dunkirk, there was nothing to prevent a repeat of the earlier attempt to starve Recife into submission, originally carried out by the victor of Dunkirk, Admiral Oquendo, in 1631. Even back then, it had been the sheerest luck that the patrolling jacht _Katte_ had spotted the Spanish, who—again, luckily—stopped over at Salvador after being sighted. And even if the Dutch and Recife were that lucky again, could they afford a reprise of the ferocious and costly naval battle which followed? Because even if the Dutch once again repulsed the Spanish, how would they replace lost ships? And how swiftly and well could they repair the damaged ones? It was akin to the final siege of a nation's last uncaptured city: with no hope of relief remaining, the outcome was a foregone conclusion. The only variable was how long and grim the eventual defeat would be.
So, before the Spanish arrived with news of destroying the Dutch fleet at Dunkirk, Tromp—on the advice of the mixed-race _criollo_ named Calabar—carried out a sharp, successful assault against the Portuguese stronghold of Bom de Jesus. That apparent bid to expand the Dutch colony prompted discussions of a five year truce as the Portuguese and their native auxiliaries licked their wounds and plotted how best to use the time.
Of course, that Portuguese fixation upon securing and getting a truce was precisely the misdirection Tromp had intended to engender. Long before the local enemy commander, Duarte de Albuquerque, had recovered enough to contemplate breaking the truce, Tromp had abandoned Recife and embarked upon the exodus that ultimately brought most of the colony safe to its new home on St. Eustatias.
Eddie had found the tales and anecdotes of that exodus interesting and informative, and would have listened with reasonable avidity on some other occasion. But right now, he had a mission to move forward, and he had not been able to do so until now. There were details that he could not share with anyone but the two persons currently at the top of the colony's chain of command: Jan van Walbeeck and Vice Admiral Joost van Trappen Banckert. And those were the two locals who had elected not to accompany the general tour, and now stood with Eddie and Pros Mund, surveying the wide anchorage of Oranjestad Bay.
Mund broke the silence. "Must we continue to stand here? I would prefer walking."
Van Walbeeck offered a small smile. "With your indulgence, let us remain a few moments longer. It is good we are seen here together. Once we walk further leeward, where the walls are over the shore, the people have no view of us."
Unlike the Dutch adventurers of the New World, who usually had to combine an aptitude for statecraft with military acumen, Mund's perspective was purely that of a wartime captain. "And how does this help you and your colony, van Walbeeck?"
"In several ways," the genial Dutchman replied. "First, to be seen together in public means that we have no major quarrels that must be kept hidden."
"But we have no such quarrels," Mund interrupted testily.
"Of course not," van Walbeeck soothed. "But there are doomsayers in every crowd, Admiral Mund. And they would seize upon a wholly closeted meeting as a means of concealing our differences. Our appearing publicly here—and the others from your flotilla now touring the town with our councilors—will silence those cynics, or at least show their anxieties to be groundless."
Mund made a noise that was half grunt, half sigh. He had little patience for civilian perceptions or judgments of what he believed were purely military affairs.
"Besides," van Walbeeck continued, "Commander Cantrell wisely asked that we find a private place to discuss more sensitive matters. With the lookout discharged temporarily from this post, I can think of no place simultaneously so proximal and yet so private. Now, your questions?"
Eddie was about to commence his inquiries about Tromp and his squadron, but Mund jumped in first. "What do you know of Thijssen and Curaçao? Is he secure there?"
Van Walbeeck seemed as surprised as Eddie at the query. If Joost Banckert was surprised—by this or anything, ever—he had the poker-playing face to conceal it completely. "Marten Thijssen has indeed driven the Spanish from Curaçao and has set about building a fort overlooking the natural harbor at St. Anna Bay. More than this we do not know. Word of this came to Cornelis Jol by way of the privateer Moses Cohen Henriques."
"Privateer?" Mund scowled. "I have heard the word 'pirate' assigned to him. He has no letter of marque, certainly."
"That may have been true before the evacuation of Recife, but Admiral Tromp thought it wise to provide him with the appropriate papers."
Mund darkened and his jaw worked angrily—but before he could speak, Banckert added a blunt declaration. "Tromp was right to do so. I fully support his decision. I would have done so myself, had I been in his shoes."
Mund shot a fierce look at Banckert, but did not make whatever comment he had been about to utter. Which would probably have been an untactful comment about the suitability of Henriques for their letter of marque, given how piratical the Dutch were themselves.
Eddie sought, and found, a topic which redirected the discussion just enough to get off this possible point of contention, but not so much that the other men would feel themselves being steered toward safer conversational waters. "You sound concerned about Thijssen, Councilor van Walbeeck. Do you foresee problems?"
"I am concerned that the plan to take Curaçao was, well, ill-advised."
Mund's curiosity swept aside his irritation. "How so?"
Van Walbeeck shrugged. "The notion of seizing Curaçao predated the Battle of Dunkirk. I was in Recife when the discussions began and so only became acquainted with them upon my return home, but the Nineteen Heeren of the West India Company had determined that, given its natural harbor and location, Curaçao would be an excellent advance base from which to harry Spanish shipping along the Main."
"You disagreed?" Mund pressed.
"I wondered if that motivation remained prudent," van Walbeeck amended smoothly. "Remember, the mission to take it was not launched until late spring of last year. The ships were collected from scattered berthings as far as the Baltic, given the Spanish blockade of _Amsterdam_. How, I asked, were we to resupply Thijssen? Who could provide him support, here in the New World?" Van Walbeeck smiled. "And for having the temerity to ask that latter question, the Nineteen decided I should also become my own answer to it. Without having any certainty that Maarten—Admiral Tromp—would come to St. Eustatia, it was decided that I should come to the colony here at the head of a small group of additional settlers and reinforcements, as the United Provinces' on-site coordinator."
Banckert added, "'Coordinator' is a fancy Company word for the fellow who must make sure that all our New World possessions support each other when threatened. Easier said than done."
The long-suffering smile on van Walbeeck's face suggested the veracity of his countryman's observation. "At any rate, my concerns were waved aside. The Nineteen wanted Curaçao, and with the news that we had lost St. Maarten as well, they reasoned that there was even more reason to go ahead with their plans."
Eddie shook his head. "I don't understand how losing St. Maarten makes Curaçao a more urgent target."
"Salt pans," Banckert answered flatly. "That was one of the great values of St. Maarten: flats in which to salt fish or even meats for shipment around the Caribbees. When we lost St. Maarten, the Company turned its eyes toward the only other flats we might take: those at Curaçao."
"But they refused to seriously address the risks of doing so," van Walbeeck resumed. "With our naval forces so crippled and constrained, it seemed likely to me that the Spanish would become more aggressive, here in the New World. With a reduced need to patrol the route of their silver fleet against our raiders, they may now have enough surplus forces to mount an assault against Thijssen. Indeed, my greatest worry was always that his raiding along Tierra Firma would become _too_ successful, and I fear that may have occurred. Cornelis Jol brought world that the governors along the Spanish Main have been gathering a small armadilla in Puerto Cabello. It is hard to imagine what they intend for such a force, other than an attack on Curaçao."
Eddie knew that timing made his next speculation unlikely, but it would serve to shift the conversation where it really needed to go. "Perhaps they intend to send it to Trinidad?"
Van Walbeeck glanced sideways at Eddie and his smile became sly. "Ah. Trinidad. An island of which we have had some mention recently. From the fluyt _Koninck David_ and her master, Jakob Schooneman. An acquaintance of yours, perhaps?"
_Try "an agent of ours." And now, of your own Prince Hendrik, as well. "A shared asset," as Nasi likes to say: he's read too many up-time spy novels._ "Captain Schooneman is known to us, yes."
"And so you feel that the Spanish strength building at Puerto Cabello may be intended for Trinidad. Why?" Van Walbeeck's eyes were bright, very alert.
"Oh, I don't know," drawled Eddie. "Maybe Captain Schooneman might have an answer. Where is he, anyway?"
Van Walbeeck laughed and clapped a friendly hand down on Eddie's shoulder. "Well done, young Commander: you sent the ball right back to me. So, enough dancing, yes? You guess that Tromp is headed to Trinidad in the wake of Jakob Schooneman himself and you are correct. Now you tell me: why? The message that Schooneman brought was, to understate the matter, surpassingly cryptic."
Eddie shrugged. "You've probably already guessed the reason: oil."
Banckert nodded once, sharply. "Yes, we guessed that. It was the obvious answer to 'why' you would go to Trinidad. But how do you plan to take it? And I am not referring to overcoming the Spanish on the island. They are so weak there that it could be years before they were aware of an intrusion. I am interested to learn what you plan to do about the competition?"
Eddie felt his brain screech to a stop, head in a new, unpleasant direction. "What competition?"
"Several weeks ago, we had report of a French ship passing St. Christopher's, trailing what was thought to be a balloon. It was following an earlier ship that Schooneman told us was bound for Trinidad. That first ship would have arrived there weeks ago, presuming the winds were at all favorable."
The ship carrying Mike McCarthy and O'Donnell went through almost a month ago? And was followed by a French ship with its own balloon? Which, given its presence in these particular waters, was probably the ship Richelieu was sure to send. Which would mean that the whole timing of the operation—the leak to the Spanish about an upcoming incursion at Trinidad, McCarthy and O'Donnell's arrival there—was all running ahead of schedule . . .
"I was unaware the, er, competition would be so—prompt," Eddie gabbled. "Accordingly, we will need you to make all possible haste sending more lighters to our ships. We've got to complete unloading your provisions, as well as some special radio gear which we'll use when we return here. In the meantime, I need you to detail exactly when Admiral Tromp left for Trinidad, with what ships, and the sailing characteristics and armaments of those vessels. And, as soon as we've finished with all that, we've got to set out after Admiral Tromp with our fastest ships. Preferably before sundown." Eddie felt Mund's eyes on him, wondering, frowning. _Because now you can smell that even_ you _, the commander of the flotilla, are not privy to all that will be revealed once we get to Trinidad. And you won't like that one damned bit._
Van Walbeeck looked as alarmed as Eddie felt. "Commander Cantrell, surely we have the time to complete discussing these matters in a more leisurely mann—?"
"Councilor van Walbeeck, I would very much enjoy an extended conversation, but every hour I delay the flotilla's departure increases the chance that we won't arrive at Trinidad in time."
Banckert blinked. "In time for what? To get your oil?"
"No. To save our men."
**_September 1635_**
A universal wolf
**_Fort St. Patrick, Trinidad_**
Hugh Albert O'Donnell stared down from the top story of the fort's blockhouse at the French skiff that was approaching the shallows of the north shore. The rowers, six to a side, leaned into their task with a will while, toward the stern, a well-equipped soldier and a man in a shiny silk waist-coat sat calmly riding through the swells. The dandy in the bright clothes, Hugh thought, would be the mouth of Richelieu.
That dandy had taken his time about arranging for his visit. The French ship had arrived three days after Michael McCarthy, Jr., had gone over the wall to rendezvous with the Dutch fluyt _Koninck David_. For several full days, the French sat approximately two miles off-shore, doing nothing but putting up their balloon. Hugh had been tempted to show he and his lads could still do the same, but he let good planning trump pride. _Better they think we lost our balloon on the_ Fleur Sable _. No reason to let them know anything about what we do or don't have._
The regrettably cautious and cynical character of that thought had become an increasingly significant part of O'Donnell's attitude toward his backer's agents. After all, why had the French waited so long to send a boat ashore? What had they been looking for? Signs that it was, indeed, O'Donnell and his men in possession of Pitch Lake, rather than the Spanish or their servitors? He'd wanted to believe the French were simply being that cautious, but it made less sense with each passing hour. On the second day, O'Donnell had all but ten of his men march beyond the wall, form up in ranks, and fire a well-timed salute with their pieces, synchronized with discharges from both cannons. Yet the Frenchman had remained motionless in the waters of the Gulf of Paria, waiting and watching—for what?
Hugh and O'Rourke had come to the same conclusion before they voiced it to each other. The French were looking to assess how weak they were, if there were any signs of desperation, of food or water shortage, of medical want. Which meant that the captain of the ship was thinking far more about the Wild Geese's bargaining position than he was about their well-being. Perhaps Michael McCarthy, Jr., was right: perhaps the French would have to be dealt with at arm's length, after all,
In a way, however, the French indolence was a blessing in disguise. Given the ruthless pragmatism that probably motivated their delay, Hugh had used the time to strengthen his own negotiating position. He set his men about further grooming the fort and ordering their logistics. The bodies of those few pirates that had not fled into the forests were located and stripped for gear before being carried down into the waters off Point Galba a few hundred yards to the west. The current's acceleration around that slight promontory carried off the bodies, which there had been insufficient tools or time to bury. Alternately, a mass pyre would have alerted the Arawaks to their ongoing presence near Pitch Lake. Leaving the bodies open to the air would have created an equally compelling signal—a steady, sky-climbing gyre of vultures—while simultaneously inviting disease and vermin into the area.
While the powder for the two French sakers was not sufficient for an extended duel with nearby ships, it did provide an excellent magazine for their small arms. That was expanded handsomely when the powder horns taken from the pirate corpses were added in: the attackers had not had much opportunity to fire at the Wild Geese. A few volleys during the charge to the fort had accounted for the majority of their powder expenditures. The rest of the grim battlefield harvest produced a plenitude of weapons, tools, boots, belts, and other useful gear, all in good condition or better. Contrary to apocryphal tales of the slovenly nature of pirates, Hugh and his men discovered the more nuanced truth behind those legends. On the one hand, pirates did indeed have little care for objects or tasks that were not directly involved in the furtherance of their livelihood. Regrettably, this included personal hygiene and cleanliness. According to several of the Wild Geese who had spent some time as hog butchers, their porcine stock-in-trade had been far less odiferous and dirty than the pirate bodies they released into the surf. However, when it came to their weapons and equipment, it seemed that freebooters were, if anything, freakishly fastidious. Their weapons were in good to excellent condition, as were their tools, powder horns, sewing kits, and other accoutrements.
As Wild Geese's armory and other stockpiles grew, Hugh saw to it that their fort did, as well. Under Doyle, the Irish mercenaries had improved the walls, finished the blockhouse, built reasonable huts to function as barracks, and sunk one nighttime privy within the walls and two daytime privies without. Torn clothing was mended. Game traps were set and fishing parties established. Ripening fruit trees were found and fresh water supplies were located and surrounded with snares that would ostensibly show if the Arawaks had ventured near them. And daily drill and training kept the men mindful of and ready to perform their first function: soldiering.
So by the time the French sent their first boat ashore, inquiring if the comte Tyrconnell would find it convenient to receive a visit from Cardinal Richelieu's personal representative, Sieur Jean du Plessis d'Ossonville, Fort Patrick and its men had been growing stronger and more fit, rather than weakening. The mild annoyance and dismay on the face of du Plessis' messenger suggested that his master had been hoping for the reverse.
That had been yesterday. And now, sweeping a feathered hat back on to his balding head, du Plessis himself had at last arrived to visit, make an offer for Pitch Lake, and in so doing, very possibly determine the fate of hundreds, even thousands, of expatriate Irish families in the Spanish Lowlands. Hugh could imagine Michael McCarthy's sardonic comment on the upcoming meeting, could almost hear it as if the up-timer had been there himself: "No pressure; no worries." O'Donnell started down to meet du Plessis.
They arrived at the gate at more or less the same time, Hugh smiling and walking toward his guest, hand out. Technically, du Plessis' knightly title was as minor as they came, but Hugh had little patience for the formalities of rank and class outside of court. Besides, any man or woman who elected to face the dangers of the New World to make their fortune shared a kind of aristocracy of spirit, of courage, so far as he was concerned.
But du Plessis apparently had a different sense of social stratification and a keen sense that while Hugh might have the far greater title, he commanded far fewer resources. The Frenchman stood very straight, put out his hand very far, and announced himself, "I am Sir Jean du Plessis d'Ossonville, senior factor for the _Compagnie des Îles de l'Amérique_ in this place, and personally appointed by his Eminence, Cardinal Richelieu. And you are?"
The tone was distant, faintly dismissive, not quite condescending. Not quite. _And besides, am I supposed to believe you don't know who I am, that you weren't given a description of me?_ No, Hugh decided, this meeting was probably not going to evolve toward an amicable agreement between partners, not judging from du Plessis almost defiant greeting.
"I am, as I suppose you conjecture, Lord Hugh Albert O'Donnell, Earl of Tyrconnell. Please come in where we may speak more easily."
Du Plessis nodded serenely and entered the blockhouse, but was surprised when O'Rourke started following them up the stairs to the second floor. "And your man—he is to hear our discussion?"
"My 'man' is Aodh O'Rourke, whose counsel and loyalty have ever been among the greatest gifts with which God has elected to grace my life. And your companion—?"
"Shall remain down here," du Plessis concluded, with a glance at the well-armed soldier, who did not meet his superior's eyes but came to a stop at the base of the stairs. Hugh continued leading the way up.
Once seated and refusing refreshment of any kind, du Plessis leaned back in one of the two rude chairs available, one hand rising to prop upon his hip. He waited, his chin slightly higher than it really ought to have been. And he waited some more, looking out a window instead of at his hosts. He might have been sitting for a portrait.
Hugh could almost feel heat radiating from the silently fuming O'Rourke behind him. But instead of becoming aggravated himself, O'Donnell simply leaned back, sipped at his water and thought at his guest: _I've no need to start this conversation, my dandy French friend, but you are under orders to do so. We'll see how long it takes you to give up this silly game you're playing._
It took about half a minute for du Plessis to realize that he could not keep affecting bored toleration as he waited upon an inquiry from, and therefore the implicit supplication of, the other party. Flipping an irritated wrist, he gestured beyond the walls of the blockhouse. "So it seems you have taken Pitch Lake, after all, Monsi—er, Comte Tyrconnell. But with more loss than expected, I observe."
Hugh shook his head. "There was never any discussion about the possible level of casualties, Sir du Plessis. There was no basis for such discussion, since we had no idea what we might find upon our arrival, or afterwards."
"Perhaps I mis-state, your Lordship. I was referring more to the imbalance of casualties. I find no surviving Frenchmen here, but few enough of your own men seem to be missing."
Hugh managed not to bridle at the implication of favoritism, also managed not to point to the blatant incompetence and cowardice of St. Georges, and the probably marginal incompetence of Morraine in maneuvering too close to the shallows. "That is because all but a handful of your men were aboard the _Fleur Sable_ when she was destroyed. And I emphasize: destroyed. She was evidently struck in her magazine, or suffered some similar fate. None of which I could change or ameliorate, I'm afraid."
Du Plessis seemed irritated that his first attempt to secure superior footing in the prenegotiation grappling phase had been unsuccessful. "Perhaps that is true, my lord—"
O'Rourke snapped a correction before Hugh could stop him. "You need not wonder if the Earl of Tyrconnell's words are _perhaps_ true. He tells no lies."
Du Plessis stopped; he looked simultaneously outraged at O'Rourke for interrupting, but also suddenly alarmed at having been caught up on what could easily become a point of honor. He had little choice but to start over with an apology. "My regrets. I simply meant to say that even if we presume that the Earl of Tyrconnell's overview of the battle and its vagaries are complete, it does not alter the simple fact that, for the French Crown, this has been an expensive expedition. Much more expensive than anticipated."
Hugh leaned forward over the table. "Many things here were not as anticipated. Such as the attack itself. We were barely here two weeks before we saw their sails approaching. And it was not a matter of chance that they clashed with us here. They came knowing, or speculating, enough about our positions to approach us under the cover of the western wood while they feinted at making their primary landing on the shore just north of here."
"And so? I am sorry that fate was unkind to your adventure, but, to borrow your own words, it was hardly in France's power to change or ameliorate that."
_Touché—almost_. "Sir du Plessis, I must reemphasize that it seems unlikely that we were the victims of unkind fate. Rather, given how closely the pirate attack followed our arrival, one must also suspect a more logical cause: incaution on the part of those who knew of our mission. Or, more extremely, betrayal."
Du Plessis forgot to keep his hand on his hip. "Lord O'Donnell, do you suggest that Lord Turenne himself would stoop so low as to—?"
Hugh waved a hand. "I suggest nothing of the sort. Lord Turenne is an honorable man, and too intelligent to play at such self-defeating idiocies, besides. No, whoever hired the brigands that came with the intent of driving us off—for surely, the pirates themselves would have conjectured that we lacked any riches worth plundering—was willing to work with a crude and unpredictable implement to smash us out of the way. But many more people in France knew of our destination than people in my employ. Indeed, before boarding the _Fleur Sable_ , only three persons knew we were bound for Trinidad."
Du Plessis was mollified but still vexed. "First, Lord O'Donnell, your implication still does great disservice to your backers, implying, as it does, that we are incapable of controlling the actions of our own servitors—"
_Of course—because bribery is unknown in La Belle France. Despite the fact that it's a way of life from Rheims to Marseille_.
"Furthermore, the information of your anticipated arrival here could have trickled down through channels unknown to either of us. Conversations overheard through doors, or in places thought private, are all too often how foreign agents discover secrets. And last, why should the three members of your own party be above suspicion in this regard?"
Hugh resisted the bitter smile he felt trying to bend his mouth. "Because, Sir du Plessis, all three of those persons were in direct mortal peril as a result of the pirate attack: myself, my aide-de-camp O'Rourke, and Michael McCarthy, Jr., the up-timer."
Du Plessis acted as though Hugh had given him a trump card. "And up-timers are of course known for their ready embrace of, and loyalty to, actions undertaken by the French crown."
Hugh decided not to make an issue of du Plessis' richly sarcastic tone, but also could feel that his patience was becoming perilously thin. "Perhaps not, but Don McCarthy's risk was as great as mine. He and I were trapped in this blockhouse, fighting off more than a dozen of the pirates ourselves, at the end. It was a close thing."
"An altogether _too_ close thing," grumbled O'Rourke from behind.
But in that brief moment, Hugh had to ask himself: _and how, really, do I know that Michael, or his superiors, were not in fact the ones who ensured that our enemies knew of our arrival here? Perhaps the risk he took by my side was simply part of his mission, too. But why?_ Why _inform our enemies? It tempted failure and death. And all for what?_
But there was no time to scrutinize that possibility any further. "Sir du Plessis, I do not bring up the apparent betrayal of our mission here to cast aspersions upon France. I do so to demonstrate why considerations of expense or casualties did not enter into my initial discussions with Lord Turenne. We understood this mission was rife with uncertainties. However, despite the unpleasant surprises we have encountered, we have taken this place as agreed. Accordingly, we should be happy to learn the terms you bring from His Eminence, Cardinal Richelieu."
Du Plessis' hand went back to his hip. "With all humility, Lord O'Donnell, the terms you are to be offered for this land were not fixed by His Eminence, but presented to me as a range of options that I was at liberty to adjust, according to the situation I found upon arrival. I have surveyed this fort and its environs from our balloon for several days. My visit here has confirmed what we detected. Consequently, here are the terms that seem just, and even generous, for France to offer in exchange for this plot of ground." He held out a slip of paper in O'Rourke's direction.
From the shift of his aide-de-camp's feet, and then the tone of his voice, Hugh was relatively sure that O'Rourke had adopted a broad, arms-folded stance. " _Your_ man is downstairs, Sir du Plessis. We can summon him up here, if you need him to deliver your mail."
Du Plessis became very red, then his chin went back. He rose, hand still on hip, approached the driftwood-table behind which Hugh was sitting and dropped the paper on it before returning to his seat.
Hugh raised an eyebrow, picked up and unfolded the parchment sheet—
Jean du Plessis d'Ossonville resisted the urge to produce a handkerchief to dab the sweat from his brown. Weeks of pursuing careful relations with the Caribs of Guadeloupe had not been half so unnerving as walking into this lion's den of desperate Irishmen. It would have been a great deal easier had he and his fellow-factor for the _Compagnie des Îles de l'Amérique_ , Charles Liénard de l'Olive, not needed to shift some of the silver originally intended for the Wild Geese into their own overtaxed coffers. But that would hardly matter to Richelieu if they were able to report success on both islands without incurring any additional expense. And His Eminence certainly wanted to lay hold of both the islands, but presumably for very different reasons. Du Plessis could well imagine what those different reasons might be, but Richelieu was not, to put it lightly, in the habit of informing minor nobles of his long-range plans. However, it was quite clear from the color building in the earl of Tyrconnell's face that he would soon make his feelings and opinions on the offer for Trinidad quite clear indeed.
The Irishman did not disappoint du Plessis' expectations. "Surely this is a joke. And a very bad one."
"Surely, it is not, Lord O'Donnell."
"In that event, it is an insult."
"I regret that you elect to conceive it so, my lord. We consider it a most generous offer: half a year's pay, in advance, for all those men and their families who leave the Spanish Lowlands and come over the border to serve under French colors."
"Sir du Plessis, that would not even be a particularly attractive hiring incentive, particularly not to long-service mercenaries such as the Wild Geese. Yet that is all you are willing to offer for the mercenary contract you offer us _and_ for the technical help that built your balloon _and_ the successful completion of this mission to Trinidad? I fail to understand how you can make this offer to us intending it to be anything _but_ an insult."
"Allow me to share what _I_ understand, my good Earl of Tyrconnell. I understand that you have a great many mouths to feed in and around Brussels. I furthermore understand that Cardinal Richelieu, in consideration of the service you have performed here on Trinidad, has elected to both feed them and to pay your men at their present rate. And he is willing to relay your first half-year's payroll to you here and now, in this place, as a sign of his goodwill, and as an indication that you will never need to wait upon the prompt satisfaction of his payrolls. Unlike the case with your _tercio_ 's present employer."
Du Plessis saw that this line of debate was angering the semi-civilized Irishman even more—which meant, in all probability, that his remarks were cutting deep because they were landing upon the tender bruises of unpleasant truths. Perhaps, though, he should have increased the amount of the bribe, or "special service commission," that he had explicitly set aside for O'Donnell himself in the written offer. But, being inherently unprincipled, high-ranking sell-swords often became greedier for bigger bribes once their appetites were whetted, so it probably would not have made a difference. Besides, it was too late to adjust that number now. The offer had been made, and due to the presence of the colonel's aide-de-camp, the thinly disguised bribe could not be confidentially renegotiated or even remarked upon. Well, that was the Irishman's loss and the _Compagnie des Îles de l'Amérique_ 's gain.
The Irish earl, like a tiresome dog with a well-worn bone, seemed insistent upon returning to the terms of the settlement. "Assuming, for one improbable second, that you and His Eminence are serious in making this offer, it ignores a number of problematic realities. Such as this: what if no more of my men are allowed to leave their employ in the Spanish Lowlands? What then?"
"Then that is most unfortunate for them, but I do not see how you could reasonably hold us accountable for the actions of another sovereign lord." Du Plessis congratulated himself on the smoothness with which he had furnished that rebuttal. He had foreseen this objection, had planned and even scripted the best way to deflect it.
And if his planning continued to prove itself adequate, it seemed likely that he and his partner Charles Liénard de l'Olive would manage to stretch Richelieu's somewhat scant fiscal underwriting to secure two islands for the price of one and thereby specially acquaint His Eminence with their shrewd resourcefulness. Liénard, a French settler on St. Christopher's, had brought du Plessis a fair stratagem for investing Guadeloupe with a French colony last year. His timing had been auspicious: not only were du Plessis' failing family fortunes reaching an alarming nadir, but Richelieu had just sent word to those interested that he was rejuvenating the mostly mismanaged and moribund _Compagnie de Saint-Christophe_. Never having met its mandate to seed other French colonies in the Caribbean, Richelieu had charged one of his councilors, Francois Fouquet, to reinvent the enterprise as the _Compagnie des Îles de l'Amérique_.
Ironically, most of the new investment money had gone to Pierre Bélain d'Esnambuc, who was still tussling with the English for control of St. Christopher's. Most of the remaining silver was earmarked for the purchase of a base on Trinidad from a group of Irish adventurers who had surreptitiously seized it for the Crown of France, or from any non-Spanish who might have ousted them from the place. It mattered little to Richelieu and Fouquet who was paid for that slip of Trinidadian coast.
Indeed, Liénard's and du Plessis' own venture in Guadeloupe was of such decidedly tertiary interest to the cardinal that he had only agreed to their request to retain one of the two ships with which they had journeyed to the New World because they had agreed to go to settle matters at Trinidad, and leave the other ship and most of the professional troops there.
But Richelieu's and Fouquet's eyes and hands were far away from the strings of the purse that they had entrusted to du Plessis. Who realized swiftly enough, that, if the holders of Trinidad—Irish or otherwise—could be made to accept less money, then the livres saved thereby could be used to ensure more reasonable funding for the colonization of Guadeloupe. And surely no one would notice if a few hundred more found their way back to France to defray some of the more onerous debts looming over the good name of the family du Plessis.
However, the attainted, therefore landless, and therefore relatively powerless earl of Tyrconnell was determined to keep quibbling over the terms of the exchange. "Sir du Plessis, in all our discussions with Lord Turenne, we were assured of a fair price for our success here and for helping to make the balloon which you have been using. But what you have offered is not a fair price at all; it does not even include any pay for the time that my men have spent upon this mission. Frankly, no sovereign would dare make such an offer in Europe, lest word begin to spread among mercenaries to avoid service with that crown."
"But we are not in Europe, my lord." Du Plessis was no longer able to resist tugging a handkerchief out of his sleeve and dabbing at his damp brow. "And just as we did not stipulate what number of casualties we considered reasonable, you did not stipulate what sum of silver seemed fair. What I have offered is, I repeat, what we think is both fair and generous." Seeing that the Irishman was becoming more, rather than less, determined in his intransigence, du Plessis deemed it time to reveal the threat he had been hiding. It would have been more convenient if the benighted bog-hopper had inferred its possibility from the conversation, but that was not to be expected with single-minded sword-swingers such as he. "I feel that I must point out, my good Earl of Tyrconnell, that my mere presence alone is a sign of reciprocal good faith. A most profound sign of it, in fact. One that is worthy of your gratitude, I should think."
O'Donnell looked stunned and du Plessis managed not to scowl or sigh. _Really? Can this mercenary truly be so dense? Are they not all schooled in guile and duplicity from the cradle?_ "It has perhaps escaped your attention, my lord, that, for half this sum—indeed, much less, I suspect—we could find another pirate band much like the one which nearly overwhelmed you here. And we could offer them a contract akin to the one which you conjecture brought that first group to these shores: seize Pitch Lake. They would be glad for the coin and, were we to recruit among the _boucaniers_ of Tortuga or their kin in the Bahamas, we could garnish that offer with letters of marque, and pardons for any offenses committed in France or its possessions." Du Plessis looked out the window at the long, low breakers. "It would delay us for two, maybe three, months, but we would have what we wish and for a much lower price than we are offering you now. So perhaps your gratitude might be improved by considering my offer in the context of that alternative. Which I remain willing to forego."
O'Donnell's sharp reply caused him to start. "No, my gratitude is not improved. Not at all." Thus far, the displaced earl had seemed a bit slow to utter conversational ripostes. But the crisp decisiveness in this counter made du Plessis wonder: _did I mistake "measured responses" for "slow" ones?_
The colonel's next comments made that conjecture seem all too likely. "Sir du Plessis, it was understood that Cardinal Richelieu's agents would have the right to make the first offer for Trinidad, and if it was at all fair, that we were honor-bound to accept it. However, while we might argue long and inconclusively as to whether your offer is in any way 'fair,' here is something that is simply _not_ a matter of debate: Lord Turenne never implied that he would wrest this hard-won ground from us by force if we did not take whatever offer was made to us. Indeed, if that were the case, then the entire notion of this 'negotiation' is simply a sad charade. Out of respect for Lord Turenne's intents, I will allow you the opportunity to withdraw your current offer, and present a new one—one which does not include any odious bribery, by the way."
Du Plessis rose. Well, the Irishman was clearly as stubborn as the rest of his recidivistic race, and, in addition to being impervious to reason, was beginning to demonstrate a distressing gift for both logic and eloquence at exactly the wrong moment. Time to let the desperate nature of his circumstances do the arguing that would ultimately bring him round to accepting du Plessis' terms. The Frenchman tucked his handkerchief back inside the margin of his cuff as he said, "Lord O'Donnell, my first offer is my only offer. I will return tomorrow to hear your response to it. I bid you good day."
And, without waiting for leave to do so, du Plessis started down the stairs but a bit more quickly than usual. He was still not entirely certain that the troglodyte named O'Rourke, or even the earl himself, might not throw a knife into his departing back.
However, just as du Plessis arrived on the ground floor and called the guard to his side with a gesture not unlike that he used to summon his hounds, an unusually-dressed man of middle age, and with the flat-footed gait of a rank commoner, entered the blockhouse with several of the Irish mercenaries around him. At first it seemed that he was another visitor, arriving under guard, but then du Plessis noticed the smiles on the faces of the Wild Geese, the gentle banter with which they engaged the newcomer, and he understood: this was the American, the up-timer who had built the balloon for Turenne.
Du Plessis drew up to his full height, which was still two inches less than the American's, and attempted to look down his nose at the workman. "So, monsieur, perhaps you will be able to prevail upon your lord to accept my offer. I suppose you have some measure of influence with him?"
The American stopped, stared at du Plessis and then barked out a laugh. "Some measure, maybe," he chuckled. "But thanks for telling me he's turned you down. Now I know where I stand when I give him _my_ offer." The American actually winked as he brushed past du Plessis and started up the stairs two risers at a time. "And you might want to stick around to hear the outcome. It could save you the problem of making another trip here and mussing up your waistcoat."
Michael McCarthy, Jr., knew that, the moment his head rose above the second story's floorboards and he saw Hugh, he'd be able to tell if his friend had decided to disown him or not.
If anything, it didn't even take that moment. Hugh was on his feet, beaming, by the time McCarthy's brow had cleared the planks that hemmed in the stairs. "Michael! Are you well? This is strange timing indeed." Hugh paused as a rueful smile crept across his face. "Or is it?"
Mike stared around the mostly finished second story approvingly. "If you mean, was I watching today's proceedings from some hiding place, no." He turned toward Hugh. "As for how I'm doing, I'm passable. You?"
Hugh nodded, put out his hand. "I am well enough. Better for seeing you, I think."
_Damn it, that smile and frankness of his is like a magic spell; no wonder so many Irish mercenaries followed him to their death, up-time._ "It's good to be seen," Mike admitted as he shook Hugh's hand, nodded at O'Rourke, who nodded back with a careful, but hopeful, smile. "Look, I don't mean to interrupt, but—"
"Not like you're interrupting anything, Don Michael," grumbled O'Rourke. "The Frenchman bearing Richelieu's terms was pretty much done buggering us, I think."
Mike winced. "That bad?"
"Worse," O'Rourke snarled, "but I'm too much a gentleman to give a full description of the reaming."
Hugh glanced over his shoulder, his attempt to muster an expression of disapproval completely undermined by his amused grin. "Always the way with words, eh, O'Rourke?" He fixed his attention back on McCarthy. "But he has the right of it, Michael. As you may have anticipated."
Mike rubbed his chin. "Yeah, that French guy didn't look too happy, coming down the stairs. I kinda reckoned you hadn't reached a meeting of the minds."
"To say nothing of suitable terms. But that is a different topic, for a different time. I am delighted to see you Michael, but surprised. I had suspected you would be well on the way to—well, wherever you were going."
_Carefully now, Mike._ "Actually, Hugh, I'm here for the same reason that he is."
Hugh leaned back slightly. "You are here to—to make an offer for Pitch Lake? _You_?"
Mike waved a hand testily. "Yeah—I mean, no, not me personally. I mean, yeah, I'm the guy sitting here in front of you but I'm not—" _Sheesh: this is harder than getting shot at._ "Look, Hugh, I thought I was done here, that somebody else was going to do all the fancy talking. At least, that was the plan. But from what I can tell, the guys making those plans got their schedules fouled up, and now, the ones who were going to present the deal to you are still en route."
Hugh did not blink, did not even nod. "And how do you know all this?"
Mike shrugged. "We have a radio on the _Koninck David_. Starting last night, it started going haywire. Fragments of transmissions, but nothing very clear. Then just before dawn, we got a clear signal."
He pointed northward. "Hugh, right now, there is a fleet sailing this way. One of the ships was designed by up-timers. It's powered by steam and it has a large radio. They'd been trying to reach me on the _Koninck David_ for days because they were worried that you'd have to make a decision before they could get their deal in front of you. So when we were finally able to exchange messages early this morning, they asked me to convey the broad outlines of what they are willing to offer for Pitch Lake. And here I am."
"And this offer, it is from the USE and Gustav, after all?"
"In part. But it is equally from Prince Hendrik of the United Provinces and from your former employer, Fernando, King in the Spanish Lowlands."
Even the indomitable O'Rourke goggled openly at this constellation of improbably cooperative political luminaries. Hugh leaned forward after a long moment of silence. "The USE, the United Provinces, and the Spanish Lowlands—all in agreement, and working together?"
"Yes. Although it shouldn't come as a _complete_ surprise, Hugh. C'mon, how many times now has your godmother had up-time visitors? Seems like there are always a few of us in her court, to say nothing of our books. And we did make sure that Fernando got his Austrian bride safe and sound out of Germany, courtesy of one of our aircraft. And we've been working to help the Provinces against Spain itself—not the Lowlands, but Spain—in all sorts of subtle ways. This is no different. Well, except that it's a whole lot less subtle."
"I should say so," agreed Hugh, who still did not blink. "I am not surprised at the cooperation between the USE and the United Provinces. They have many common interests, and share many of the same predilections. For technology, for instance. But the Spanish Lowlands—"
"Maybe you were too close to the changes there to see them clearly," Mike offered. "Or maybe not. Who was it, less than half a year ago, who told the leaders of all the Wild Geese _tercio_ s that they might soon have to choose between loyalty to Philip of Spain and Fernando of the Lowlands?"
Hugh became a bit pale. "Yes, I said that."
"Well, follow it to its logical conclusion. If Fernando ultimately parts company from Madrid, how will he survive? Who might be his new friends? Certainly no one allied with Spain. Certainly not the French, who'd like to extend their borders north of Brussels. The English are in disarray, Austria is a shadow of its former self."
"And so Fernando and my godmother are willing to ally with Protestants?"
"Why?" asked Mike around a smile that assured Hugh he knew better. "That bother you?"
"Certainly not, Michael. You know I have become quite sympathetic to Grantville's enlightened policy of religious freedom. But my godmother and her nephew—"
"Are not so different from yourself, Hugh," Michael interrupted with a grin. "Unlike the fossils creaking around the court in Madrid, they understand that the times, they are a-changing. And is the USE a 'protestant' union? Hell, if it was, I—and the millions of other Catholics, from rulers to peasants—would be in a pretty tough situation. But we're not. Because what unites the USE is not a common faith, but rational political agreements. And, slowly but surely, shared values. Such as religious toleration."
Mike waved in the approximate direction of Europe. "Fernando sees this clearly, although I'm pretty sure it was your godmother who pointed it out to him. Hell, she can see new trends and changes coming before anyone else in Europe, so far as I can tell. She had been cooking up a scheme like this on her own when some of us from Grantville approached her with an idea about how to kill a bunch of birds with one strategic stone: seizing Trinidad."
Hugh nodded. "So. This has my godmother's blessing, you claim."
"Hugh, you don't have to believe me. There's a sealed letter from her being carried on one of our ships, the _Intrepid_. I'm sure it will explain the underlying tangle of statecraft spider webs better than I could given a year's time."
Hugh rose and came around to sit on the desk directly in front of Mike. "The desirability of the oil is easy to understand. But I do not understand how all the other objectives can be met simply by taking Trinidad."
"You will when you hear the offer."
"Which is?"
Mike drew in a deep breath: _all or nothing, now_. "Trinidad, and its oil production, is to be a shared venture. The split is: fifty percent belongs to the USE. Twenty-four percent belongs to the United Provinces, and twenty-four percent to the Spanish Lowlands."
Hugh frowned. "That's only ninety-eight percent. What happens to the last two percent?"
Mike felt how crooked and desperate his smile was. "Can't you guess?" _Don't you know this is why I pushed and pulled you and the Wild Geese into this crazy scheme—just like your godmother did?_
Mike saw understanding illuminate Hugh's face like the iconic light bulb snapping on. "It is for us. For the Wild Geese."
Mike nodded, explained slowly. "Two percent of all production and proceeds from oil operations on the island of Trinidad will be placed on account for the Irish expatriate community in the Lowlands. That, by extension, puts it at the disposal of the last free and legitimate leadership of Ireland, Hugh."
"We'll have much to discuss with the earl of Ulster, I can see," O'Rourke said sourly from behind the desk.
Mike looked away, having heard the latest grim news regarding John O'Neill. "Maybe not," Mike muttered evasively. "Look, however the details swing, this is a lot of money, Hugh. Do you know how much a gallon of oil—just unrefined oil—sells for right now?"
Hugh shook his head.
"About twenty guilders per unrefined barrel of crude. And the price continues to rise. And will for the foreseeable future. We are sitting less than five miles from where, in my world, some of the earliest, smallest sweet crude gushers produced one hundred barrels a day. Within a few years, there should be a dozen other wells, at least. And many of those will be producing more. Much more."
Hugh's mental math was quite good: the earl's eyes opened wide. "And for how long may we enjoy this entitlement?"
"It is permanent. And can you guess what Fernando has sworn to do when he gets his first proceeds from the speculators, long before the first oil gets back to Europe?"
"Buy an army with which to resist his brother's _tercio_ s?"
"No, Hugh. He's going to pay all of what's owed the Wild Geese, and fifty percent more, in honor and appreciation of your loyal service. And then he wants _you_ to buy that army for him—you and Colonel Preston, working together."
O'Rourke came forward and leaned against the table. "Don McCarthy, this sounds so blasted fine that I know it _can't_ be true. As you must fear yourself."
Mike frowned. "What do you mean?"
O'Rourke spread his hands. "So I'll assume that there's a piece of paper somewhere that asserts we are part owners of the oil concession here on Trinidad. And similarly, that the king of the Lowlands has gone on record saying that we are his chosen troops, and that he shall settle all our back pay and then some." O'Rourke shook his head. "But none of it will come to pass, because of the people upon whom it depends: high and mighty lords and ladies that can't even agree whose carriage comes first in a progress, let alone share ownership of something which is, as you yourself said, a strategic piece of real estate. They'll be bickering before the first oil comes out of the ground. And so none of it will ever get to market."
Mike shook his head. "That's a reasonable fear, O'Rourke. But those same lords and ladies foresaw that same problem. And that's why the ownership of the oil is structured as it is."
"Eh?" said O'Rourke.
Hugh saw it, nodded. "That's why the USE owns half of the oil. It can force cooperation among the other partners."
"Or can simply have its own way, I fear," added O'Rourke.
"No, not entirely," said Hugh, suddenly staring at Mike, who realized that the Irishman was starting to realize just how much the up-timer sitting in front of him must have been involved in the formation of this arrangement. "If all the other parties—the Spanish Lowlands, the United Provinces, and we Wild Geese—are all in agreement against the will of the USE, there will be no majority. It will be fifty percent against fifty percent."
"Ah, that's fine, it is," O'Rourke growled. "Deadlocked. Just like clan politics back in Ireland. Everyone with a voice, and so nothing can be agreed upon."
Hugh shook his head. Mike wondered if he had already foreseen the answer to the question he was going to ask: "How is a deadlock prevented, Michael?"
"Majority vote among the four shareholding directors, one from each of the groups. One vote, one director."
O'Rourke persisted in his sour tone. "And so, two votes for each side of any dispute, and again, a deadlock."
"No," corrected Hugh. "Almost certainly not, because it would take the combined shares of all three of the minority shareholding groups to create the first deadlock. Logically, then, their three directors would outvote the USE director three to one, in that circumstance."
Mike nodded. "That's the idea. And stability in the Netherlands is maintained by a similar device. If the United Provinces and the Lowlands resume hostilities with each other, or ally with an enemy of the other, or undertake any one of a list of actions which have been decreed impermissible, then oil proceeds are not distributed to either party but are held in trust until such time as they resolve those differences."
O'Rourke couldn't help smiling. "So each has a pistol to the other's head, both fired by the same trigger. Heh. That might even work. For a while."
Mike smiled. "Nothing is permanent. But if this lasts even five years, the Lowlands and Provinces will have rebuilt themselves and made great progress toward forging a single nation, the USE will have a ready supply of oil flowing, and you, Lord O'Donnell, will have well-paid men, a war-chest, and new allies with which to seek justice for Ireland."
"And Spain will be thirsting for all our blood," finished O'Rourke.
Hugh chuckled. "And just how is that any different from the situation as it stands right now, old friend?" He stood. "No, I think we've just heard the offer we're going to take." He put out his hand to Mike. "And something tells me that the man whose hand I am shaking to seal our commitment was involved in crafting some of its stipulations."
Mike didn't look away, but he couldn't lie. "There were a lot of cooks consulted in the making of this crazy stew," he allowed.
Hugh held his hand, his eyes, a moment longer than necessary. "I'm sure there were, Don Michael McCarthy. And I thank you for being one of them, and for remembering Ireland when the final recipe was decided upon. Now," he said, withdrawing his hand, and striding towards the stairs, "I think we can deliver our final answer to our French guest."
O'Rourke, who'd wandered over to the window, whistled sharply. "I suspect our Gallic friend may have already deduced our response. Come and see."
Hugh and Mike joined O'Rourke at the window. Just below their vantage point, Jean du Plessis was standing on the platform that lined the north wall of Fort St. Patrick, staring out to sea. The three men followed his gaze to the horizon.
Half a dozen ships were emerging out of the heat-misty horizon: two Dutch jachts leading a brace of man-o-wars with forty or more guns. More ghostlike sails seemed to be approaching from farther back in the indistinct distance behind them.
Mike nodded. "Unless I'm much mistaken, that would be Admiral Maarten Tromp of the United Provinces."
Du Plessis must have heard the comment; he turned sharply, eyes as cold as a promise of murder. "So, Lord O'Donnell, this is how you deal in good faith? How convenient for you that your new owners have already arrived."
O'Rourke smiled wolfishly down at du Plessis. "Correction, sir. Those are not the 'owners.' They are the ' _co_ -owners.' Now run along; from what I recall, your fleet betrayed Tromp's at Dunkirk. But if you prefer, you could stay a while and test the limits of the admiral's forgiving nature."
Du Plessis was off the platform and headed for the gate before Mike had finished chuckling.
**_Fort St. Patrick, Trinidad_**
After putting his three announcements before the group, Lieutenant Commander Eddie Cantrell looked for surprise or alarm on the faces of the down-timers and saw little. The news that Cardinal Borja of Spain had driven Urban VIII off the _cathedra_ in the Holy See was not news to anyone but Tromp. Hugh O'Donnell and Aodh O'Rourke had heard of the events in Rome before departing Europe. And Tromp didn't seem to care very much. Mike McCarthy, Jr., had heard what Hugh and O'Rourke had, and Ann Koudsi had enjoyed the same access to recent events that Eddie himself had, traveling with the flotilla.
The announcement of John O'Neill's death affected only one person very strongly: O'Rourke. He leaned protectively toward the earl of Tyrconnell and actually glanced around as if checking for inbound assassins from every point of the compass. O'Donnell, now the last legitimate royal heir of Ireland, simply looked saddened. Hugh's reaction was somewhat surprising to Eddie. All reports indicated that there had been no love lost between the two earls. But the same sources had indicated that whereas they were rivals for preeminence in the eyes of the Irish, John also had a number of purely personal grudges against his royal cousin. O'Neill had long nursed a profound jealousy for Hugh, who had completed his degree at Louvain University and had been well liked for his wit and charm. John O'Neill, on the other hand, had inherited his illustrious father's temper and self-seeking instincts, without a corresponding measure of his brilliance and personal magnetism. In some ways, Eddie had to admit, Ed Piazza's analysis—that with the passing of O'Neill, Irish politics became a great deal clearer and less tangled—was probably correct. Tromp's careful face showed no reaction to the news of John O'Neill's death: a prudent reaction from a Dutchman sitting in council with representatives of the Wild Geese and the court in Brussels which they served. The only diplomatically safe reaction was polite and respectful silence, a behavior at which Admiral Maarten Tromp excelled.
However, Tromp's composure was quite undone when Eddie announced the outline of the deal that Mike McCarthy, Jr., had struck with Hugh O'Donnell and his Wild Geese. He started visibly at the news of the accord between the United Provinces and the Spanish Lowlands portions of the newly reunited Netherlands that both made the joint oil-development possible and was in turn made feasible by the common interests thus forged. However, he did not interrupt, and as Eddie continued to detail the agreement's particulars and the various checks and balances built into it, he nodded once or twice.
_Well_ , thought Eddie, _so far so good. Which is better than I was hoping for. Sitting down with major leaders of the contending forces in the Lowlands could have gone sideways at the double-quick. And never mind that one of them is among the most famous admirals in history, and the other is the last heir to the Irish throne and godson of Archduchess Isabella. Which reminds me—_ "Lord O'Donnell, I was asked to bring you a sealed letter. From your godmother, the archduchess infanta Isabella." He produced the wax-sealed tube and proffered it to the earl of Tyrconnell.
O'Donnell smiled— _such a bright and guileless smile!_ —and took it carefully from Eddie's hands. "I very much appreciate your carrying this letter to me, Commander. Or, if the Wild Geese aboard your ship have told me correctly, should I say Lord Cantrell?"
Eddie felt himself blush, wishing he could wave away the color as easily as he could wave away the title. "I'm just Eddie. That title doesn't mean all that much, I'm afraid."
Hugh cocked an eyebrow. "You own land? You currently enjoy the use of it?"
Eddie nodded. "Yes, to both."
Hugh smiled again. "Then your title is more real than mine—Eddie. My lands are attainted. I am nobility in name only."
O'Rourke's brow had lowered. "There's many as would contest that, m'Lord O'Donnell. With flags waving and swords high."
The attainted earl of Tyrconnell nodded at O'Rourke's somber interjection. "We can safely leave that aside for now. And we can still hope that the swords will not be necessary." His expression transformed into a quizzical grin. "There's one more bit of news—or perhaps 'insight' is the better word—that I'm eager to have, Eddie: just how is it that the pirates seemed to know to come find us here? And so quickly? From the time we entered the Caribbees, we didn't see any other ship except for du Plessis', following us. So it's difficult to imagine how they learned of our presence here. Without some help, that is."
Eddie nodded. He'd been told that the Irish earl was shrewd, so he had half-expected this. "You are right, Hugh. The pirates—or more accurately, the Spanish—had help learning about your mission here. They had to, or they might not have come in time."
O'Rourke leaned forward. "Might not have come _in time_?"
Eddie nodded. "That right, Sergeant O'Rourke. In addition to getting oil from Trinidad, this mission had another purpose: it's a draw play."
"A 'draw play'?" Tromp echoed uncertainly.
"My apologies, Admiral Tromp. An up-time term—a sports term, actually. A draw play is an operation designed to pull an adversary's attention and units to a specific part of the playing field. In this case, that was Trinidad."
Hugh was frowning, rubbing his chin. "Why so?"
Eddie hoped that the two-thirds truth he was telling would be convincing enough on its own. "To draw in any units that the Spanish had in the area so they could be eliminated, either by the _Fleur Sable_ , or, if absolutely necessary, by our follow-up force. It was imperative to get them to commit, and lose, any nearby units early on. The strategic logic was that this would leave them unable to even reconnoiter the area before our main forces and drillers arrived, much less make another bid to take it back. That should have taken the Spanish several months, by which time we'd have been well-established here."
Mike was frowning. "I note you said 'should have' taken the Spanish several months. Which makes me suspect that not everything has been going to plan."
Eddie shrugged. "Well, it hasn't."
O'Rourke's brow had beetled down once again. "And why not?"
Eddie put out a hand by way of appeal, wondered how he'd introduce the ticklish answer to that question, but Maarten Tromp saved him the trouble. "I am the answer. I am why things are not going according to plan."
All eyes were on the ever-composed Dutchman. "How could you be responsible for derailing plans of which you were unaware?" asked Ann Koudsi.
"Well, strictly speaking, I did nothing to derail the plans, but my actions and those of Admiral Thijssen have no doubt made the Spanish more easily provoked, and more decisive in response, than they were a year ago.
"Specifically, Admiral Thijssen took Curaçao from the Spanish in September of last year, although I suspect word of it did not reach any of the _audiencias_ on Tierra Firma—excuse me; you call it the Spanish Main—for some months. At almost the same time, I abandoned Recife and relocated to St. Eustatia. From whence, shortly after, we were compelled to intercept the Armada de Barlovento when it ventured south from St. Maarten." He shrugged. "I suspect they had emerged in search of us, never guessing we were just one island further south in the Leewards."
Hugh nodded. "The Spanish conjectured you had reinforced Curaçao, that your actions and Thijssen's were coordinated."
Tromp nodded. "Exactly. Ironic, since we initially had no idea of each other's whereabouts or circumstances. But consequently, the Spanish evidently began considering the necessity of a mission to unseat Thijssen. Which meant that, by the time you and your men arrived here, Colonel O'Donnell, they had coincidentally brought additional forces down closer to Tierra Firma, including detachments from Havana and Santo Domingo. So Commander Cantrell's plan to draw off and destroy the usually paltry forces with which the Spanish patrol this area has fallen afoul of the Spanish decision to build up a greater power here to unseat Thijssen. Consequently, the first Spanish response to your attack on Trinidad"—he nodded at Hugh—"was to recruit a band of cutthroats. Otherwise, they would have had to draw ships from the flotilla they were gathering to oust Thijssen, which would have delayed those plans."
"And when the pirates didn't return with news of success," Mike nodded, "the people who hired them are now getting _really_ worried."
Tromp nodded. "Yes. As we sailed here from St. Eustatia, we met one of our privateers, Moses Cohen Henriques, who touches along the Spanish Main both to gather information and raid, intermittently. Evidently, the Spanish are now delaying whatever plans they might have been evolving to attack Curaçao and are coming here instead." Tromp's smile was crooked. "In a way, I suppose you could say that, due to our activities here in the New World, Commander Cantrell's plan to attract Spanish attention has worked all too well."
Hugh nodded. "So, practically, what does this mean to us here? How many Spanish ships, how many troops, and when can we expect them to attack?"
_Damn_ , thought Eddie, _I wish I could be so calm when asking questions like those_.
Tromp nodded. "We do not have anything approaching complete information, but between our own rovers, such at Cornelis Jol, and privateers such as Moses Henriques, here is was we have heard. The Spanish have three separate fleets converging on Trinidad: one from Havana, one from Santo Domingo, one from Cartagena. Their greatest difficulty will be effective rendezvous. That did not particularly matter when they were gathering to strike at Curaçao. They were simply gathering slowly in Puerto Cabello, waiting for their numbers to be complete. Now, because they have no specific intelligence on us, they must be ready to contend with a strong force that might meet them anywhere near Trinidad. And because they must act quickly, they cannot afford the luxury of rendezvousing in a single port anymore. They must attempt to arrive in this area, probably in the lee of Grenada, at approximately the same time and then order themselves for battle. This means they will have pickets out well ahead of their formation, searching for each other. And for us, as well.
"The Cuban fleet will take some time to get here, even though they have been underway for some weeks. Crossing the open water of the Caribbean from the north is a fickle business, as the prevailing winds will be coming abeam whereas the galleons want a following wind to make reasonable speed. The fleet from Santo Domingo is closer, but again, operating with many of the same constraints. However, they may catch a few more favorable winds by moving southward within the fifty miles of the lee-side of Lesser Antilles. The ships from Cartagena will be having the hardest time of it, tacking constantly to keep from being caught in the eye of the east wind."
Seeing the perplexed look on Ann's and Mike's faces, he explained. "'In the eye' means to be sailing straight into the wind. If you do so, you'll find yourself held fast, or 'in irons,' as we say, without any reasonable chance to make headway. This is a constant problem for ships sailing eastward along the Spanish Main, since both the current and prevailing winds are strongly westward, and Cartagena is a long way off. On the other hand, it is quite possible that the ships from Cartagena and other _audiencias_ along the Main may have already been gathering closer to Curaçao, and so could be starting their journey from much closer than the fleets from Cuba or Hispaniola."
Tromp stood and gestured toward the map spread out on the table in the captain's combination ward- and chart-room. "It will be some weeks, we believe, before they arrive. And we do not have enough ships to maintain a line of pickets, searching for them. We will need to rely on our three balloons: Admiral Mund's flotilla has two, and Colonel O'Donnell still has his one. Those, along with our excellent glasses, should give us reasonable warning. However, it means keeping most of our ships on station near the Grenada Passage, if we are to intercept them at the time and place of our choosing. So we will presume that we are relatively safe for at least one more week and keep all but two of our ships in close anchorage here in Trinidad to take on supplies and prepare. After that week, we will need to put to sea and seek an anchorage near the Dragon's Mouth, where the Gulf of Paria meets the waters of the Grenada Passage."
Hugh smiled patiently. "And how many ships, guns, and troops do they have? You will forgive me for being so numerically-minded, Admiral Tromp."
Tromp almost smiled in return. "I share your fixation, Colonel, for those numbers will largely determine our fate. Informers who were in Hispaniola three months ago saw nine suitable ships being readied. I think we may assume that these were the captain-general of Hispaniola's contribution to the intended move against Curaçao. I think we may also reasonably assume that most, or all, will have received word to make way against us, instead.
"We have little other than guesswork concerning the other two fleets. However, when Havana has contributed to a larger effort in the Caribbees, it is usually half again as sizable as what emerges from Santo Domingo. Mind you, this is the very crudest of estimates, and may bear little resemblance to what is actually occurring. However, my captains all agree that it would be unusual if, in this particular circumstance, they did not send at least a dozen. They also note, with some alarm, that Havana's ways were more active in the last year than they have been in the preceding five. The new governor of Cuba seems to have received permission from Madrid to recommence his former prodigious rate of ship-building."
"That is not good news," O'Rourke observed softly.
"No, indeed," Tromp agreed. "And as for Cartagena, or more properly, the contributions drawn from along the length of the Spanish Main, we have no basis for estimate. The last time there was a significant problem here, Cartagena was able to muster sixteen ships, not counting lighter _garda costa_ hulls, pickets and auxiliaries. However, that was a gathering performed on very short notice. They may have assembled far more, this time."
"So we can expect somewhere between twenty and forty ships, give or take a lot," Mike summarized sardonically.
Tromp did smile this time. "Your numbers are every bit as precise as our own, mijn heer McCarthy. As far as troop totals, this is unknowable. They may hope to rely mostly upon local natives with whom they have alliances, or they may be carrying a thousand seasoned Spanish troops. But I rather doubt the latter."
"Why?" asked Ann.
Hugh looked at Tromp for permission to field the question, who nodded his leave. "Logistics, Lady Ann. These three flotillas have something in common: they must spend a long time at sea to reach us. That means a great deal of food. The more men they bring, the more food, water and other perishables they must carry. Logically, if any of these fleets are furnished with significant numbers of troops, it would be the one from Cartagena. That one can at least touch at various points along the Spanish Main for reprovisioning."
Tromp nodded, seeming to be pleased. Eddie noted that the admiral had a ready and catholic appreciation for competence, wherever he found it. Including, in this case, a commander who, under prior circumstances, would have been his enemy. "The colonel could not be more correct," Tromp averred. "Fortunately, the troops found along the Spanish Main are not the best-trained nor best-equipped of Madrid's New World army. Such as it is." Tromp hastened to provide an explanation for his apparent derogation of Spanish soldiery. "Do not misunderstand me. The Spanish troops we might face are likely to be quite competent, but they will not be trained in drill and field maneuvers as you would encounter in Europe. Here, in a land of jungles, swamps, and grasslands, where most of the opponents are native tribes or perhaps a company of pirates, there are no reasons to keep _tercio_ s in camps, ready to take the field against organized armies. The New World's wars are skirmishes in remote areas or on the outskirts of towns. Or, occasionally, small cities. There is no maneuvering of serried ranks, no sweeping cavalry attacks against exposed flanks, no clashes of thousands of armored men under the gaze of generals on two opposed ridges. Here, men fight in the bushes, at close range, with little warning of the combat to come, and no expectation of quarter if they lose. The Spanish formations of the New World have adapted to this style of warfare. So while they are not much use in set-piece battles, and are indifferent artillerymen at best, they are as deadly and ruthless a foe as this environment can make them. And you will find, I fear, that this environment is a harsh teacher, indeed."
Eddie distractedly rubbed his palm over the butt of his holstered HP-35's worn grip. _Sounds like it's Vietnam all over again for you, pal._
"So, other than waiting for them to show up, do we have a plan?" Mike didn't sound annoyed so much as faintly anxious.
"Yes," Tromp said with a decisive nod. "First, we believe that the Spanish have no idea that the up-time designed steamships exist, much less what attributes they might have. Our plan is to allow the Spanish to believe they have a reasonable chance to gain the weather gauge on our fleet. Only then will we use the steam power at our disposal to show them the error of their assessment and to secure the weather gauge for ourselves."
O'Rourke's eyebrows canted skeptically. "You are saying they may be bringing an average of thirty ships to face our—what?—twelve? Admiral Tromp, I know you have seen the full armament of a war galleon up close, but are you sure your memory is furnishing you with an accurate recollection of their firepower, just now?"
Tromp glanced at Eddie, who leaned forward, smiling. "Sergeant O'Rourke, I have a question for you: have you ever seen an eight-inch breech-loading naval rifle in action?"
"Be damned, but I'm not even sure what sort of iron-mongery that might be."
"Well, at some point in the coming weeks, I suspect you'll get a chance to see it in action. I think our naval strategy will start making a lot of sense, then. But in the meantime, we've got some unconventional ground operations in mind, as well."
Hugh had not missed Eddie's leading tone. "For which my Wild Geese might be particularly well suited?"
"They just might be," admitted Eddie, "and as you're probably aware, we brought many more of the men of your _tercio_ over with the flotilla."
"Yes, I had the opportunity to chat with a few when we came aboard." And he shot Eddie a most unusual look, a smile that was almost mischievous, as if it concealed a shared secret . . .
Eddie managed not to start, hoped he hadn't flushed: _damn it, he's halfway to figuring out Quinn's part of our mission! His own troops probably fell over themselves rushing to tell him that we had a third steamship in the flotilla—the_ Courser _—which split off from us just before we entered the Caribbean. And Hugh's already guessed what that means: the real reason we're pulling all the attention here to Trinidad is so the_ Courser _can fulfill its undisclosed mission with a minimal chance of observation by, or chance encounter with, the Spanish. A mission that no one's talking about, or even alluding to . . ._
But Hugh was evidently going to let him off that hook. The Irish earl kept on the primary topic of conversation. "So what kind of unconventional action are we talking about, Eddie?"
Eddie leaned in. "Let's call it a special mission, and leave it at that for now. We'll go over the details after we've wrapped up this general meeting, okay?"
"Very well." Hugh's eyes drifted along the map to a point well west of Trinidad. "I must ask: what of Curaçao? Can we not involve the Dutch forces there in our plans, Admiral Tromp?"
"I wish we could," mused Tromp with a frown. "But we have yet to establish contact with whatever colony Thijssen has planted there, and he did not have many ships or men to begin with. Perhaps we will send an envoy, in the months to come, urging him to join with us—"
O'Rourke's smile was small, sad, sympathetic. "But you don't think such a suggestion will set him a-hurrying in our direction."
Tromp shook his head. "No, I don't think it would. And that is unfortunate, for he is too far exposed for his own sake. And for ours."
Ann frowned. "What do you mean?"
Tromp gestured toward the green line of Trinidad's shore, visible out the portside windows. "We are soon to deposit you and your, er, drilling crews, on a very large island, Ms. Koudsi. "We need Thijssen's force here, securing you, the land, and the oil. But I doubt he will quit Curaçao, and I fear that decision may prove his undoing."
Eddie leaned forward, glanced toward Ann. "Speaking of oil, perhaps you'll brief everyone about what you're expecting to be doing for the next half year or so, Ann, and why it could make this a very valuable piece of real estate."
Ann nodded; she leaned her lips against her folded hands, apparently thinking how best to make a simple, cogent explanation out of a very complicated and multifaceted operation. "First," she almost mumbled, "we have several huge advantages drilling for oil here on Trinidad. Probably the greatest of those advantages is how much we know from up-time sources about the early oil industry here. We know, roughly, where the first successful wells were sunk to within two square miles, and we know the sorts of geological formations the prospectors were looking for. So the hardest part of our surveying work is already done."
"Second, the number of wells sunk in relatively close proximity to each other was high, so we don't have to start drilling exactly where the first successful up-time prospectors did. As long as we're in the right area, we should hit oil after a few tries, at most.
"Third, Trinidadian oil is not only sweet and light, but very close to the surface. None of the first wells required more than two hundred and fifty feet of drilling; some required little more than one hundred and fifty. And that's all easily within the depth range of our cable-drilling rigs. We also know that a lot of them were gushers, so we know to go slow and be prepared. That way, we'll suffer less damage and lose less oil. A lot less."
Eddie nodded. "And when do you expect to start drilling?"
Ann grinned crookedly at him. "As soon as your boats finish ferrying my gear to the colonel's fort, and as soon as we get the 'all clear' to start surveying. As I understand it, it's not safe for us to go wandering around inland, yet."
"Not yet," nodded Eddie, "and I suspect the colonel will need to provide you with security contingents, even so."
"Then how will it ever be secure enough to drill in any of the sites we find?"
Eddie nodded. "When you've got a high-confidence find, we'll throw up a security cordon around it. If it's further off, we'll need to patrol an eventual access road as well. Which is why we've asked you to concentrate your initial surveying close to Pitch Lake. It's off the beaten-track of the Arawaks, and with any luck, we won't even need an access road."
Ann shrugged. "I'll do my best. We do know there were some wells sunk in sight of Pitch Lake itself. But that's a lot different from being able to deliver one on the first shot, and by request."
Tromp was shaking his head. "No one expects that, Ms. Koudsi. Nothing of the kind. We understand that you might need many tries and much time before finding oil. Which is why we are trying to formalize an active alliance with the Nepoia tribes. If that can be accomplished, our work here will be much easier."
"And how have those efforts been coming along?" Ann's keen interest vied with her obvious anxiety as she inquired.
"Pretty well," Eddie answered, "but we've had a hard time setting up a meeting with their cacique, Hyarima. He's in the field carrying the fight to the Arawaks right now. But he's interested in meeting his new neighbors." Eddie glanced at Hugh. "Particularly you."
Hugh raised an eyebrow. "I am honored. But I suspect that I, too, will be too busy for that meeting." He smiled. "Speaking of which, when do you need us to start on that special mission?"
Eddie grinned sheepishly, shrugged. "Actually, it would be best if your Wild Geese could leave today, Colonel. Before which, I'll want a few words with you in private."
Hugh smiled knowingly. "Of course, Commander. Well, O'Rourke, I see we shall be working for our share of the profits along with everyone else. No more lolly-gagging about for us!"
O'Rourke glanced at his earl sourly. "Sure and I'll be missing my life of tropical leisure, m'lord."
Eddie nodded agreeably, but thought: _O'Rourke, you might soon mean those ironic words seriously enough. Particularly given where you and the earl are heading._
For Hugh O'Donnell, the end of the private meeting with Eddie Cantrell did not mark the end of business. Emerging from the aft companionway, Hugh had found his sergeant pacing the deck of the _Intrepid_ like a caged bear. He had immediately summoned all the Wild Geese that were aboard, who swarmed their two senior officers, as eager as puppies to go ashore and mingle with their comrades manning the walls of Fort St. Patrick.
But that was not to be for the half being retained as ship's troops. And of those, forty were hastily transferred to the Dutch yacht _Eendracht_ , which was to weigh anchor at dusk and commence carrying Hugh and his men to their distant objective. But before then, Hugh and O'Rourke had much to do in little time: familiarizing the recently arrived officers of the _tercio_ with the routines and particularities of Fort St. Patrick; supervising the transfer and placement of a small battery of demi-culverins ashore; and calming Doubting Thomas Doyle who was lamenting the impossibility of completing all the inevitable new construction projects in the time required.
They finished their work ashore just in time to wave farewell to the _Koninck David_ and the _Crown of Waves_ as those two ships set sail back north. Michael McCarthy was at the taffrail, waving back at them. Word had it that he was bound for 'Statia to perform yet another piece of up-time technological wizardry. Exactly what he was to conjure up remained unknown to all but Tromp and Cantrell, and they were not sharing that information. _More secrets_ , thought Hugh. _Nothing but, here in the New World._
And Hugh was not innocent of secrecy, himself—not until he could share his destination with his men, which for security's sake he could not reveal until they drew close to it. Nonetheless, they would be training for their upcoming operation as they traveled west along the Spanish Main on a course known only to the Dutch captain, his mate, and his pilot. The prerequisite level of mutual trust between the commanders made for a markedly strange situation, reflected Hugh, since he had fought the Dutch since he could hold a sword.
But this first joint enterprise of forces from the newly cooperative Lowlands also presented a wholly unlooked for silver lining in the form of the young and wonderfully alert young captain of the jacht _Eendracht_ , Pieter Floriszoon. Good-natured and every bit as weary of religious bigotry as Hugh himself, they quickly worked out their respective command prerogatives—Floriszoon commanded on the water, Hugh on land—and got under way. The prevailing winds were handy, coming from the east abeam the starboard gunwale, and Floriszoon accurately predicted no more than five hours sailing to traverse the Gulf of Paria to the near side of Dragon's Mouth, where they would make anchorage in a protected cove.
Shortly after dark, the _Eendracht_ dropped anchor at the appointed place and Hugh went below to take a congenial meal with the almost fifty Wild Geese who were aboard. In addition to the forty troops that had been drawn from the _Intrepid_ , ten specialists had been hand-picked from the original group at Fort St. Patrick, all of whom spent the evening telling the new arrivals heavily embellished tales of their time at Pitch Lake.
As the rations of grog were being ladled out, Hugh had noticed O'Rourke getting ready to break away from the below-decks camaraderie. No doubt to button-hole Hugh so that they could finally compare notes on the day's events. There had certainly been plenty of food for thought in the news they had heard, and careful counsel was in order. But, with an unvoiced apology to his old friend, Hugh slipped off alone to examine the day's last potential source of surprises and secrets: the letter from his godmother.
Had Hugh read it before the pirate attack, its contents would have flabbergasted him. She revealed that, for almost half a year, she had foreseen the inevitable effect that Fernando's increasing distance from his brother Philip of Spain would have on her godson, that he would be placed in an impossible position if he remained in Philip's service. Consequently, she had set about her slow campaign to properly position him to be in the right time and right place to take advantage of the changes that were coming.
Her indirect encouragements to meet the up-timers; her back-channel negotiations with that group's President Piazza to maneuver Hugh into a partnership with Michael McCarthy; the up-time brokered agreement between Fernando and Hendrik to share the responsibilities and profits that might arise from tapping oil in Trinidad; the inclusion of the Wild Geese as a smaller but fully entitled partner in that larger deal: what would have shocked him a month ago now seemed like an embarrassingly obvious answer to the apparent coincidences of the past half year. Even so, the amount of invisible negotiation and creation of common points of interest that Isabella had brokered, groomed, and achieved was formidable. It might yet prove to be her finest coup in a career chock-full of diplomatic tours-de-force.
But Hugh could see another level that few, if any, other observers would have detected: that the foundation and driving force behind her grand accomplishment had been her love for Hugh, her largely hidden determination that his legacy, and potential, should be married to resources that might enable him to realize and capitalize upon both. McCarthy's passion for Ireland had been the crucial catalyst she had been seeking, the means of bringing together a strange, wholly unofficial, yet powerful political bond between the interests and persons of the Spanish Lowlands and the interests and persons of the USE.
After reading the letter twice, Hugh spent some minutes just looking at it, cherishing his godmother's familiar, bold hand and the wry wit that lurked behind so many of her comments and observations. For the briefest moment, he seemed to feel her fingers touch his face like a ghost's, reaching all the way from the other side of the ocean.
It took a while to get to sleep. The water was calm, but his mind was filled with surges of other faces and facts: John O'Neill dead, Urban VIII missing, Prince Frederik Hendrik an ally, and a cascade of silver for his Wild Geese and their families. And upon him, the title of the last legitimate earl of Ireland. He wasn't sure whether to feel it as a great weight or a great joke, being such a tremendous reversal from the life he had lived and expected. He was still trying to decide which reaction was more appropriate when the gentle movement of the _Eendracht_ finally rocked him to sleep.
Ann Koudsi had been rocked to sleep a lot more energetically than Hugh O'Donnell. In a manner of speaking. When she awoke in her cabin in the middle of the night, it took her a moment to reorient herself. First, because it was her own cabin on land—part of the newly built housing for the drilling team on Trinidad—not the even tinier cabin she'd shared with another woman on the _Patentia_. And second, because she hadn't shared a bed with anyone in . . .
A long, long time. Since the Ring of Fire, in fact—as if the simple act of sexual intercourse would somehow have finalized the disappearance of the world she'd once known and loved.
Now, lifted up on one elbow and gazing down at the recumbent form of Ulrich Rohrbach, she realized just how foolish she'd been. The truth was, no matter how fond she'd been of her up-time existence, it was a pale shadow compared to her new life. She knew she'd never have experienced such adventures, nor had such awesome responsibilities thrust upon her. Never been so challenged—and never shown herself how well she could and would rise to those challenges.
And she'd never have had a lover like Ulrich. A man who admired and respected her as much as he did, without being intimidated by her. Because, despite his lack of formal education and his modest birth, he'd absorbed the up-time belief in self-betterment and applied it with a determination that bordered on ferocity.
There'd been no chance to further their relationship while they'd been on the _Patentia_. There'd been no privacy, for starters. Perhaps more importantly—this was hard to pin down, exactly—Ann herself hadn't felt quite ready. So long as they were in transit from the old world to the new, she'd somehow felt as if her life was still suspended.
No longer. They'd reached their destination—for the moment, at least—and her fate was back in her own hands. This was their first night on Trinidad since the cabin was finally declared ready and they could transfer off the ship. And she'd made the most of it, by God!
For the first time since the Ring of Fire, she was finally able to fully accept and welcome her new life. O brave new world.
Ulrich shifted slightly on the bed. And, then, began to snore.
All right, fine. Some things stayed the same. But it was still a brave new world.
**_Entry to Galveston Bay, Texas_**
Major Larry Quinn glanced over his shoulder at the darkening southern horizon. Even at this range, he could see actinic flashes inside the low line of gray clouds that were beginning to rise up through the hazy air mass above them. He glanced back up the tumblehome of the _Courser_ , trying not to sound either anxious or annoyed as he said, "Any time now, Karl."
Karl Klemm swayed down another step of the netting that had been played over the side of the destroyer, then glanced at his feet before starting downward again. This time, however, his foot remained in midair, thrashing about in search of the next foothold, which the gentle sway of the ship had snatched away.
In the boat, two of the elite soldiers of Grantville's increasingly proprietary Hibernian Mercenary Battalion, Volker and Wright, exchanged world-weary glances. Wright looked at Larry. "Major Quinn, should we lend Mr. Klemm a hand in—?"
Larry shook his head and said quietly but firmly, "No. He can handle it." _And hopefully he'll do so before the month is out_ , the up-timer added silently. Because with a hurricane coming straight up out of the Gulf of Mexico, and the _Courser_ waiting for them to lead it to safe anchorage, every minute counted.
But it was also important that Klemm, the only man on the _Courser_ who had not started out by embracing a life of risk on either battlefields or the high seas, should learn to master the skills and attitudes necessary to survive beyond the margins of civilization.
Klemm eyed the six feet remaining to the deck of the small, up-time motor boat bouncing against the fenders separating it from _Courser_ 's hull. Larry saw the assessing stare, and shook his head. "No jumping, Karl. That's a good way to twist an ankle, and you have to stay mobile."
Karl glanced at Larry, nodded tightly, gritted his teeth and put another foot down, then again, and finally, half-stepped and half tumbled into the cockpit of the bright red 1988 180 Sportsman. He straightened, panting slightly, and looked Larry in the eye. "Apologies, Major. I will work hard to improve my climbing."
Larry nodded for the lines to be cast off and the fenders pulled in, then glanced sideways at the young Bavarian. "You seemed a good enough climber when we were touring various rock formations with Ms. Aossey. Hell, you were as good scrambling up a rock face as I was."
Karl looked about the controls of the motorboat, alert, as if reading the function of each lever and button. "With respect, Major, cliffs do not move as you climb them. So it seems strange to me to try to put my foot where the netting _will_ be, rather than where it was when I last looked down."
Quinn smiled. "Fair enough."
"Major," said the middle aged sailor perched on the bow of the motor boat, "we are ready."
Karl looked at Larry. "Shall I help the leadsman with—?"
"No, Karl. You stay here. I want you to learn how to pilot this boat."
Karl's eyes were wide—with apprehension or avidity, Larry wasn't quite sure. "Me?"
"Yes. You have a knack for machines and we'll need at least two people to pilot it when we make our way back up the coast to the Mermentau River. Besides, this boat can be a little finicky."
Klemm stared at the unfamiliar word. "'Finicky?'"
Evidently that colloquialism hadn't made the jump into Amideutsch. At least not yet. "Finicky is, er, sensitive, twitchy. Like a nervous cat."
"Ah. Delicate controls. I shall watch closely."
Quinn eased the throttle forward and turned the wheel to the right. The slow, clockwork mutter of the outboard rose into a ragged purr and the Sportsman sheered away from the hull of the _Courser_ at a leisurely pace. Before them, the blue-green waters that marked the narrow entry into Galveston Bay roiled, mildly agitated as they moved over and among that gap's notoriously migratory sandbars. "Leadsman," cried Larry into the wind, "reading."
"Not quite three fathoms, sir."
Damn it, that was close. The _Courser_ drew almost two fathoms without her drop-keel down, and because she was heavily loaded for a long mission away from resupply, she was probably drawing a full thirteen feet. That left only four feet between her keel and the muddy sands that she would need to traverse. Larry eased the throttle back. Frequent depth readings were going to be needed in order to make sure they didn't miss a submerged bank or other protrusion that might snag the _Courser_ and leave her trapped before the slashing jaws of a rapidly approaching hurricane. "Keep singing out those marks," he shouted toward the bow as he glanced at Volker and Wright.
The two soldiers kept an easy hold on their rifles—down-time copies of the Winchester 1895 chambered for .40-72—one scanning the low, sandy end of the Bolivar Peninsula on the northeastern side of the channel, the other alert for movement on Galveston Island's higher southwestern shore. The glass-smooth water and the lack of birds confirmed what the barometer had started predicting two days ago and what the dark line of clouds on the south now promised: that the approaching storm was certain to be quite ferocious.
"Fourteen feet," called the leadsman grimly. "Silty and thick."
Another one foot rise. Much more, and the _Courser_ would have no safe harbor. This was what Admiral Simpson had called the worst-case scenario of the mission: that, arriving along the Gulf coast during hurricane season, the _Courser_ could find itself unable to make a run into a good high-weather anchorage. Her ultimate objective, the Mermentau River, was known to be shallow, and the harbors at Port Arthur and the Calcasieu Channel did not exist in this world. Without dredging, they were barely half the depth required. Until one reached the mouth of the Mississippi, the tidal flats were precisely that: very flat, and very shallow. No ports worth the name. And while the _Courser_ could lie off the Mermentau easily and safely enough in most weather, she was at severe risk if she stuck to the open water in the teeth of a hurricane.
The only option had been Galveston Bay, a full one hundred miles west of the Mermentau. Fortunately, they had heeded the barometer's warnings and taken no chances, bypassing the Mermentau and making straight for Galveston.
But making straight for Galveston was not synonymous with racing into her bay. Although the channel ranged from one and a half to two miles wide, the shifting silt and sand made the actual pathway something of a slalom course. And in an era without dredging or regularly updated depth charts, the trick to finding safe harbor depended upon trail-blazing the sinuous path of the greater depths.
Consequently, at the start of the first watch, Larry had given orders that the Sportsman 180 should be uncovered, which was achieved by disassembling its disposable warehouse-cocoon on the ship's main deck. Captain Haraldsen, who had finally begun to forgive Larry for taking over the mission when the _Courser_ parted from the rest of the flotilla, had been unable to suppress his pointed interest in the up-time boat as, board by board, it was revealed and then made ready for lowering over the stern by a hastily erected pair of davits. Now, Larry just hoped they had put her in the water soon enough. "Give me another reading."
The leadsman shook his head. "Steady at fourteen. Might have risen another inch."
Not good. Quinn looked back at the _Courser_. Haraldsen himself was waiting patiently in the bows, spyglass ready to distinguish any hand signal that might come from the motorboat. Because if the channel continued to rise, the best the _Courser_ could do was anchor herself in the mouth of the channel and hope that the path of the storm was such that the headlands broke the worst rush of wind and water, rather than focused it upon her. Still, even that was better than catching the storm out in the Gulf and being pushed up against the land without any control. But being carried out of the center of the channel by a storm surge might be almost as bad, leaving the ship stranded in a position from which they would not be able to get it back into the receded waters. That would mean the end of their mission, and quite possibly, the end of their lives—
"Three fathoms full, again, Major!" cried the leadsman. "And dropping fast. We must have been moving over a silt shelf."
Quinn nodded. "Good, but we're not safe yet. We've got about another mile of channel to go, and we haven't encountered the narrower sand bars." _Assuming there are any narrower sand bars, that is._ Working from a few nineteenth- and twentieth-century accounts that had been located in the Grantville Library didn't exactly provide them with an extensive maritime gazetteer of Galveston Bay. For all anyone knew, the sandbars might have been a later phenomenon or one with a long periodic arc.
But whatever the case, they were well over a mile into the channel, which meant they had reached the point where it had been determined it was worthwhile bringing the _Courser_ in for anchorage, even if she could go no farther. "Wright," Quinn called over his shoulder. "Signal to Captain Haraldsen that he should start following along in our wake. Precisely in our wake. Otherwise he is at risk of running aground from bars that we're not detecting farther to the east or west."
"Yes, sir," Wright said, standing and making the appropriate hand signals back to the _Courser_.
"Leadsman," called Quinn. "Reading."
"Three fathoms full and less silt. Feels like we're past the muck."
Larry nodded, pushed the throttle forward. "Okay then, we're picking up the pace. The sooner we blaze a trail to get the _Courser_ into the bay, the better the anchorage she might find." The Sportcraft 180's engine sound grew throatier. The prop dug at the water harder, putting a thready vibration through the deck. The leadsman called out largely unchanging reports.
Quinn felt Karl's eyes watching his hands upon the controls. "Catching on?"
Klemm nodded. "Yes. It seems simple in principle. But, like many such things, I suspect it is more difficult than it looks."
"A little," Quinn admitted with a smile. "But once the hurricane has passed us and we're ready to head back to the Mermentau River, you'll get some time behind the wheel. We'll share the piloting when we head back. By the time we're ready to motor into the bayous, you'll be an old hand."
Karl looked skeptical. "If you say so, Major. But the close margins of inland waterways will be a more difficult task, no?"
Quinn frowned. "Different, more than difficult. On open water, you've got to watch the risers and the chop, particularly in a light boat like this one. And you've got to read the skies well, so you can run to an inlet, a bay, or even a beach if heavy weather is on the way. Inland, the worry is that you'll put a hole in her hull, run aground in the shallows, or get snarled in vegetation. Either way, the best rules for a new boater are to look sharp and go slow. That way, you'll last long enough to become an old boater."
The leadsman called more loudly. "Sand bar. Up to fifteen and rising toward port."
Quinn turned the prow slightly starboard, eased the throttle back. "Now?"
"Holding steady. Now dropping. Sixteen."
Quinn held the wheel motionless, maintained speed. "Now?"
"Steady at sixteen."
Quinn called over his shoulder. "Volker, toss back a weighted buoy where we turned."
Karl watched the small float, trailing a bottom-weighted rope, soar through the air, land with a splash well back in their wake. "Let us hope the bar does not rise in this new direction, as well."
Larry nodded. If it did rise up higher, they'd have to backtrack, keep trying different directions until they found one that would get them all the way into the bay. But they didn't have the time for that kind of trial-and-error anymore. He looked back at the southern horizon. The sky was hazy as high up as he could see, and the dark storm bank had risen to show more of itself over the rim of the world. It would be on them in two hours, maybe less.
The leadsman's next shout sounded like a sigh of relief projected through a bullhorn. "Seventeen. No, eighteen. And widening out on all sides. You can cut back to port again, I think."
Which would be a good thing, since their current heading would have fetched them up against the scree and rubble shore of Point Bolivar in another few hundred yards. Quinn swung the motorboat slowly back to port.
"Steady marks, Major. And we're just about out of the channel."
Quinn eased the throttle forward again, discovered that Volker was trying to catch his eye. "Herr Major," he said, just loud enough to be heard over the engine, "who or what are Wright and I watching for?"
"Most likely natives. Possibly Spanish, but our histories say they were pretty hesitant to make landfall along here."
"Because of the sandbars?"
"Possibly. But probably more because of the Atakapas."
Volker smiled. "So the natives don't much like the Spanish?"
"Oh, they do," Wright observed sardonically. "For dinner."
At first, Volker was perplexed. Then his eyes widened. "They are cannibals?"
Quinn was wondering how best to defuse any surge in anxiety over the rumored culinary habits of the natives, but Karl beat him to it. "Actually, Herr Volker, that is a matter of some debate. There was little mention of them in the books in Grantville. However, while most accounts do suggest that they ate their foes ritualistically, it seems that the only Europeans they ever defined as 'foes' were the Spanish."
"Why?" asked Wright.
Quinn shared the last of the scant knowledge that had been gleaned on the Atakapas. "Apparently, the Spanish enslaved and tortured the first groups of Atakapas they came across. And it seems the Atakapas have long memories. At least that's what the history books say."
"The very _few_ history books," Wright amended soberly, "based on scant travelers' tales, from the sound of it. Let's hope they're right."
"Well, Mr. Wright, we'll be the first to find out." Quinn watched the last of the headlands that formed the two sides of the channel fall away behind them, Galveston Bay spreading out around them. "Mr. Volker," he called back, "signal to the _Courser_ that we've marked their passage, and are now going to scout anchorages." Quinn moved the throttle farther forward and felt the nose of the boat begin to rise as their speed increased.
Larry stole a rearward glance. The hurricane had changed again. Taller, darker, and, given the rate of visual change, moving directly toward them at one hell of a clip. Safe anchorage or not, they'd also need a good measure of luck to come through the storm in one piece.
He turned to survey the wide bay before him and saw little in the way of making their own luck. One of the problems with Galveston Bay was how very flat its sheltering islands were. They were simply sand spits, really, studded with a few rocks here and there. The only feature that rose up to any height was Pelican Island, immediately to their west, which meant it was back across the sand bars they'd just avoided.
Quinn kept a worried frown off his face, as he called forward to the leadsman. "I'm going to take us a little farther east, to see if we can find some deep water in the lee of the Port Bolivar headland."
The leadsman simply stared at the water there, which was entirely too calm and not particularly dark, and then stared back at Quinn.
Who thought: _yeah, I know. Doesn't look promising. Problem is that_ nothing _looks promising. Most of all that damned storm._
Karl was close at Larry's elbow. "Major, without depth charts, how shall we know where best to make a quick search for an anchorage?"
Quinn sent an entirely artificial grin at the young German. "We make our best guess and take our chances." _And right now, our chances aren't looking too good . . ._
**_October 1635_**
What plagues and what portents
**_Outside Puerto Cabello, Venezuela_**
Hugh O'Donnell turned, listened, went into a crouch, and motioned the thirty men following him to do the same. Behind them, a faint voice cried out in Spanish, but only to silence a barking dog. Then, all was quiet again in the lightless, mostly abandoned village of Borburata, just five hundred yards behind them.
"Have we been seen, m'lord?" asked one of his senior ensigns, Daniel O'Cahan.
Hugh glanced up at the sky. Stars stared back down, impassive. Too clear for his liking. He'd waited for a near-moonless night, but could only pray for clouds, which had not materialized. "No, Daniel, I think not. The skiffs put us in better than four hundred yards northwest of the furthest huts, which the Dutch say are deserted. And they should know. They've raided here a bit."
The ever-laconic Jimmy Murrow glanced back at the faint outlines of tilted thatched roofs, many half-collapsed. "What's to be had, I wonder?"
"Not much anymore. Less than a hundred souls there. Quiet now. There will be coast watchers ahead."
As if to confirm Hugh's warning, O'Bannon slipped out of the bushes lining the thin strand. "Two coast-watchers, m'lord. About two hundred yards further on."
"About what we thought, then. Where's Purcell? Is he keeping an eye on them?"
O'Bannon's face was unreadable in the dark. "In a manner of speakin'. I should have said there _were_ two coast watchers."
O'Donnell nodded. Purcell was as quiet as a cat, handy with a dagger, and disturbingly eager to use both skills. Which he had done tonight. Hugh would rather not have commanded such men as Purcell, but such fine moral scruples were luxuries a colonel could not afford. Having a diverse collection of tactical tools at one's disposal, no matter how devious and dark some of those tools might be, meant more success and fewer lost men. Better a stain on his honor that no one else perceived than a few more trusting _cultchies_ buried in a foreign field.
Or in this case, possibly more than a few. It would be nothing short of disastrous if the Spanish had any warning of their approach over the thin arm of land that framed in the northern side of Puerto Cabello's protected anchorage, and was only two hundred fifty yards wide at its narrowest point. If detected, it was quite possible that they'd fail to reach the inner harbor at all, and quite unlikely that they'd capture the ship they had seen sitting almost astride the channel into it. And since the Dutch commander of the up-time-inspired steam pinnace that was set to rendezvous with them had no way of knowing if they were repulsed, or where to retrieve them if they were, it was all too likely that any determined Spanish pursuit would end in the wholesale slaughter of Hugh's detachment.
O'Donnell nodded at O'Bannon, his senior lieutenant in this group. "Any other pickets that you could see?"
O'Bannon shook his head. "No, m'lord. Looks clear all the way down to the inner harbor. Nothing on this arm of land until you reach the guardhouse and the open battery we spotted overlooking the narrows."
Which, for all intents and purposes, meant they could make their way down to the shore of the inner harbor unobserved. The narrows were more than six hundred yards west of their destination, with a small rocky promontory blocking the sight line between them.
O'Cahan didn't sound convinced, though. "Can the Spanish really be that lax? Natives could be just as quiet as and deadly as Purcell, and the jungles are thick wid 'em."
O'Bannon smiled at the cautious new ensign, who was clearly eager to show that he was competent and alert to all dangers. "Not so many natives about as you'd think, Daniel. They stay well back from the bigger towns unless they mean to burn 'em to the ground. And the Spanish aren't worried about their neighbors sneaking in from here on the north beach, because there's naught they can do. So the natives take the northern arm of the inner harbor. Then what? Are they going to swim out into the anchorage and threaten the Spanish ships?"
"No," muttered Jimmy Murrow, "because they're not such bleedin' goms as we are."
"Are you saying you've reservations about our plans, Mr. Murrow?" Hugh asked coolly.
Murrow made a sound as if he was swallowing his shoe. Sideways. "None 't'all, m'lord."
"Mm. Didn't think so. You'll be wanting that length of bamboo handy about now, I'd think. And you too, O'Cahan. In a few minutes, it will be time for your midnight swims."
Aodh O'Rourke brought up his pepperbox revolver as the bushes rustled in front of him. "Advance and be recognized."
A swarthy, much-scarred man of medium height and build emerged from between two giant fronds. "It's Calabar," he said quietly. "What are you doing this far forward on the path?"
"Being where I'm not supposed to be," O'Rourke answered, waving to the men behind him to rise and prepare to move.
"And why is that?" asked Calabar, who eased the hammer forward again on his flintlock pistol.
"Because if any of the Spanish bastards had caught you and indulged their taste for torture, I didn't want to be where you'd have told them we were."
Calabar's voice was quiet, distant. "I'd not have told them anything. Not unto death."
"Which is as may be, friend, but I'll not be trusting the lives of twenty mothers' sons to any man's resolve when his captors start playing mumblety-peg with his fingernails. Or his manhood."
Calabar's shadow shrugged. "Very well. The path ahead is overgrown. It is not much used, possibly only by hunters."
"I thought Puerto Cabello was mostly home to fishermen," put in Malachi O'Mara, O'Rourke's second in command, from behind.
Calabar's voice was half-droll, half-annoyed. "As I said, the path is not much used. Are your men ready?"
O'Rourke nodded. "The oil and charges are ready, and the men are arrayed in their pairs."
"You've reapplied mud?"
"We've done as you instructed."
"And look like a horde of Moors, to boot," mumbled Patrick Keenan, from farther back in the column.
"You mind yourself, you blue-eyed Moor," scolded O'Rourke, who kept his focus on Calabar. "Have you seen the warehouses?"
The half-Portuguese _mameluco_ from Brazil's Pernambuco coast shrugged. "Their roofs, only. I did not wish to go closer. But they are where Moses Henriques reported them to be."
"And you trust this pirate-friend of yours?"
Again, Calabar paused before speaking. "He is my friend, and I saved his life near Recife, so yes, I trust him. And he is a pirate, but a selective one. He rarely takes a ship lest she be Portuguese or Spanish. Most importantly, no one knows this coast half as well as he does. His men were in Puerto Cabello only two weeks ago and saw war materiel being moved into the warehouses, saw the guards standing watch night and day, saw that most of the crews were being kept aboard their ships, not billeted in town."
O'Rourke nodded. "Meaning the Spanish are presuming they could receive orders to weigh anchor any day. Very well; we'll trust your Hebrew pirate friend." He turned to his men. "Blades, not pistols, until we leave the jungle. If we bump into patrols, we take them quietly. Once at the outskirts of the town, it will be guns and fast feet, lads. We'll not have much time."
Maintaining a tight crouch, Hugh crept down to the water's edge, with Murrow and O'Cahan beside him. O'Bannon had already taken a few men to keep watch over their right flank, just in case a patrol meandered out of the guard post farther to the northwest. He scanned the inner-harbor as the two young men, the best swimmers in his two companies, reblacked their faces and checked their bamboo breathing tubes. In the briefing for the mission, Cantrell had kept calling them snorkels and seemed to presume they were easier to use than past experience had proven them to be.
O'Donnell had used them once, himself, years ago during the siege at Bruges. It was not unknown to use breathing tubes to cross shallow moats, but it was a risky undertaking. Moats were usually barely a step above open sewers in terms of cleanliness, and using the breathing tubes meant swimming in an awkward position: half on one's back, almost. Which made strong swimmers the users of choice.
That was even more true on this mission, where they would be towing lightly weighted lines out to the _patache_ that was almost sitting astride the inner mouth of the channel that communicated between the outer and inner bay. Two days of observation—by a team deposited under cover of a cloudless night on the uninhabited lump of rock and brush named Isla Goaiguaza—had confirmed that the ship was approximately half-crewed, and kept ready to sail at a moment's notice. This was not an uncommon practice among the Spanish, particularly at the smaller ports along the Tierra Firma. More yachtlike in design than any other Spanish ship, the _patache_ was capable of sailing close to the wind and was often fitted with oars, as well. Consequently, it would be optimally responsive to any attempt to enter a protected anchorage such as Puerto Cabello's. That she hadn't the weight of shot or of men to fight off a concerted attack was hardly a concern. At the very least, she would buy the greater ships in the harbor time to ready their guns and sails, whether the threat was from a boat full of boarders or a fire ship.
"So, m'lord, do we know whether we're to seize her or sink her?"
O'Donnell nodded as his two swimmers checked the pitch seals on the sewn top-folds of their oilskin bags. "Yes. We seize her. Her sails are reefed but ready and we've got the right wind, coming from the northeast. That's directly abeam, so we should be able to get up the channel at a good speed. Seven knots from the sails alone, if Captain Floriszoon guesses right and his prize crew is up to handling the rigging a-right."
"And when we go past the guns at the mouth of the channel?"
It was a good thing that the observers on Isla Goaiguaza had been furnished with new, up-time-modeled 10x magnification spyglasses. "Our fellows sitting out in the bay got a good look at those guns. Small demi-culverins, at best, so probably ten-pound balls. Not enough to do heavy damage unless they have plenty of time to fire at us. Our real worry is from the guns in the battery across the bay. They have full cannon over there, according to the Dutch and their pirate-friends. But as long as the _patache_ is being contested, I'm wagering they won't fire upon their own men. Besides, with any luck, the men of the battery will be more than a little distracted by other events."
"Such as?" prompted Murrow, with a hastily appended, "m'lord."
Hugh smiled. "We'll leave that to O'Rourke. He excels at mischief, you know."
"So he does, Colonel," conceded Murrow. "But once we start the fireworks on board the _patache_ , that's likely to draw their attention even so. And so I'm wondering: just how fast can we get up that anchor?"
O'Cahan's rolled eyes caught the faint lights glimmering across the water from Puerto Cabello. "We're not going to raise the anchor, eejit. We're going to cut it."
"And just how are we going to do that?"
"Ships have axes on 'em, y' great gom. For just such occasions."
"And if this ship doesn't have one, or we can't find it?"
"That's why one of our lads is bringing over a small saw."
"Oh." Murrow had stripped down to a loin-clout, with his waterproof pack and the weighted line lashed to the belt that held it up. "And the prize crew? How do we know those damned Dutchmen will get here in time? How do they even know when it's time to come?"
Hugh interrupted with a voice signifying that the discussion was over. "Because, Murrow, we've fireworks and a whistle with us, and the steam pinnace is waiting to detect either, just a mile off the mouth of the channel."
Murrow seemed surprised. "You trust that fire-breathing brass beast? Look how long it took the Dutch to get it to work, Colonel!"
"That's because they were being careful, Murrow, just as they were during all the practice runs we made as we traveled along the Main from Trinidad. Without the steam engine's power, we'd be entirely at the mercy of the wind. This way, even if the wind dies or turns on us, we can still make three knots out of the channel. And if the breeze stays will us, we could do close to ten."
O'Cahan nodded. "It's a well-conceived plan, m'lord—but, well, what if you and the lads don't take the ship?"
Hugh looked squarely at O'Cahan. "You know the answer to that, Daniel. That's why you have the augurs. And the scuttling charges."
"Aye, sir, but we've not had an opportunity to test the charges, lest we waste them. And how do we let you know to go over the side, once they're planted?"
Hugh nodded. "Wish I had those answers, Daniel. It's the best system we could devise. The charges are well-wrapped, and the primers are lit by percussion cap. So as long as you don't dislodge the arming system inside the oilskin, the fuse should light and burn down. The tamping is crude, but should at least buckle a light hull such as the _patache_ 's. The two together should breach it. And as for warning us?" Hugh shrugged. "If it goes as badly as all that, I doubt they'll be many of us left to warn. And mind you, no heroics. You stay under the curve of the hull, out of sight. And if you hear the signal, you scuttle the _patache_ and leave. And no looking back. That is an order. Do you understand?"
"Yes, m'lord. I expect we'll be putting out the second set of tow-lines for O'Rourke, instead."
"So do I. Now, into the water, lads. Tell me, how quietly can you swim?"
Murrow looked dubious. "As long as I keep my feet from floating up, I thought I'd not make any noise swimming underwater, m'lord."
"Well, I'll let you know afterward. Or I suspect the Spanish on the _patache_ might let you know first."
Murrow's eyes were large as he waded into the rippleless water. "I'll mind my feet, Colonel."
"Yes. You do that."
Calabar held up a hand, waving O'Rourke's column down into the ferns at the edge of the jungle. Gesturing for the sergeant to come forward, Calabar pointed toward low, squarish outlines that were located halfway between their position and the sparse lights of Puerto Cabello, only six hundred yards to their northwest. "The warehouses. Simple frame construction. Recent. Almost certainly to house fleet stores."
O'Rourke scanned the bay. Ten large ships pushed their masts toward the stars. Half again as many smaller hulls rode at anchor around them. "That's not the whole fleet from Cartagena, is it?"
Calabar shook his head. "No. They're not all here yet. Those are probably from Maracaibo or Coro. The galleons—any square-rigged ship—has a hard time heading east along Tierra Firma. The current and winds are both against them, and they can't tack well." Calabar considered. "But the Cartagena fleet can't be too far off. A week or two at the most."
O'Rourke nodded. "Which of the warehouses are our main targets?"
Calabar shrugged. "All are worth destroying. Most only contain food and casks of water and wine, but after all, a fleet without provisions is hardly a fleet. However, if you mean powder and shot . . ." Calabar pointed at a smaller warehouse of superior construction, located at the center of the larger ones. Whereas the patrols moved in a leisurely pattern between the other buildings, the guards around the munitions warehouse circled it endlessly, and in pairs. And they were armored. Of course.
O'Rourke turned to the men behind him. "Listen closely, lads. When we get close to the powder and shot stores, we're going to have to fight genuine Spanish regulars: breastplates and morions all. So don't load lead bullets. Iron's what we need. Double shot for the musketoons and balls for the pepperboxes." He looked across the ground to the warehouses. "Assume they'll hear us coming at about one hundred yards, see us at about seventy or so, if we're running."
"We could crawl to the warehouses," Calabar offered.
"We could, but it's too easy for us to get spread out that way. When we attack, we have to be close enough so that our numbers sweep them aside and give us a direct line to the munitions. So we crawl the first twenty-five yards, then up and crouched approach until we're spotted. Then kneel, fire a round, and charge."
Calabar nodded. "Let us do so, then. Spread your men along the edge of the jungle. I have been here once before, so I shall lead the way."
**_Puerto Cabello, Venezuela_**
Hugh O'Donnell was a fair swimmer but was not enamored of being fully submerged. Particularly on a nearly lightless night. So despite the steady flow of air down the bamboo breathing tube, and the fact that it assured him of remaining within eighteen inches of the surface, he was nonetheless eager to get his head above water as soon as he reached the end of the weighted cord that O'Cahan had secured to the _patache_ 's rudder by looping it over the pintle-and-gudgeon joint that was closest to the waterline.
Hugh knew his eagerness to resurface was a danger insofar as he would disturb the water with a sudden breach, so he forced himself to take a final breath through the tube, remove it from his mouth, draw it straight down, and float up slowly.
The stars and faint sounds seemed to rush in at him after towing himself with one hand along one hundred yards of submerged line. The lack of current in the inner harbor had made corrections of balance negligible, particularly since this water was calmer than any of the bays or inlets in which they had practiced during their journey along the Spanish Main. Now out of the silent darkness, he strained his ears and eyes to assess the situation.
Looking back toward the shore, and only because he knew to look for them, he spotted two irregular lines of small bumps protruding above the smooth surface of the inner harbor: the last of his thirty men finishing their submerged approach to the _patache_. He moved forward, keeping a steadying hand on the undercurve of the hull until he could glimpse the waist of the _low-slung ship_. In the water along her side were a cluster of what looked like oversized coconuts—his men's heads—bobbing underneath the shelflike outboard channel that held the chainplates at bottom of each ratline in place. They had approached along the second line, looped over the rigging cleats beneath the channel, and were now concealed from overhead detection as long as they stayed put and hugged the ship's waterline.
A slight disturbance in the water beside him caused Hugh to turn. O'Cahan rose up so slowly that he barely sent out a ripple. He cut his eyes southward, toward the town and the main battery. He tilted his head slowly, quizzically.
Hugh understood O'Cahan's silent question: Should he start across the rest of the channel, running yet another tow-line to the opposite shore for O'Rourke's men? It was a reasonable question. Yes, Hugh's detachment was supposed to wait for the unmistakable sounds of O'Rourke's attack before they took their own next steps, but more time had passed than should have. Still, if anything had gone wrong, there would have been the sound of more distant gunfire. So in all probability, it made sense to have O'Cahan start his swim now, giving him more time. On the other hand, if the attempt to board the _patache_ went very badly, very quickly, Hugh would want the young ensign on hand with his augur and scuttling charge in order to—
From well south of the center of Puerto Cabello, there was a sputter of gunfire: sharp, distinctive reports of the new pepperbox revolvers and the brash roars of the double-barreled musketoons of the Wild Geese. The answering fire was irregular and vaguely flatulent in quality. Evidently, some of the Spaniards here were still armed with venerable arquebuses.
Hugh smiled and nodded vigorously at O'Cahan, who drew a deep breath and sank back down into the dark water. O'Donnell started counting heads, listening to the first concerned mutters of the Spanish anchor watch less than six feet overhead, and heard their feet moving toward the opposite, port side of the ship, closer to the sounds of combat. _So far, so good . . ._
O'Rourke cocked back the hammer on the third of the five chambers in his pepperbox, drew down on the charging Spanish sergeant, cheated a little low, and kept the cutlass in his left hand ready on his shoulder. At about three paces, he squeezed the trigger.
Aodh O'Rourke was a good shot to begin with, and the excellent Brussels-based workmanship of the pepperboxes made them quite reliable and consistent in their performance. Add to that his long experience in combat and the incredible proximity, and the outcome was hardly surprising. One of the two double-shotted iron balls punched through the bottom rim of the Spaniard's breastplate, the other disappeared through the jerkin that began at the top of his groin.
The man stumbled and almost fell, his blood already running down his legs in black rivulets: the color of nighttime death, when you could see it at all. But Spanish regulars were tough soldiers and even their softest sergeants were still the consistency of cured leather, both inside and out. Teeth shining in a grimace against the pain of raising his rapier and straightening up, the veteran tried finishing his charge.
But O'Rourke knew a dead man walking when he saw one. He gauged the vastly decreased reflexes and flexibility of his armor-sluggish opponent and brought the cutlass off his shoulder in a chop aimed at the head of the stricken Spaniard. Who parried through his grimace—
—But missed the subtle hints that the simple diagonal cut was merely a feint. O'Rourke waited until his opponent had committed to the parry, then shifted the body-crossing trajectory of his blade into more of a downward, outside sweep. The rapier made a light, ringing contact with the cutlass just before a twist of O'Rourke's wrist jinked it over into the side of the Spaniard's right knee.
The veteran fell one way, his rapier the other. With his right leg already half-covered by a glistening tide of blackness, the sergeant spat a defiant curse at O'Rourke. O'Rourke had no time for the foolishness of trading insults on a battlefield, and was equally unwilling to spend a bullet to end either the man's invective or his life. He ran on, shouting for his men to light the fuses and get to the harbor channel. _Besides, it's not as if that old soldier is going to be able to achieve anything while he's busy bleeding to death._
The munitions warehouse's dedicated patrol had fallen to the pistols and musketoons of the Wild Geese. But in actuality, the attack was the easy part of the mission. It was the escape that worried O'Rourke. Once they were done with the warehouses, they had to run to the inner harbor, skirting the town. They didn't have the time to stop, reload, and conduct a moving gun-duel with randomly appearing Spaniards. But that also meant that those randomly appearing Spaniards would be more likely to kill his men.
As if to underscore the dangerous tendency to expend too many of the charges already loaded in their weapons, one of O'Mara's men, Edmund Butler, used a second round from his pistol to kill the last and badly wounded guard covering the door to the warehouse. "Mind your ready ammunition, Butler," O'Rourke grunted, "There was but one sword-stroke between that man and his Maker. Loftus, Ealam, get those doors open. O'Hagan, you have the charge ready?"
As the doors to the munitions warehouse creaked open, O'Hagan replied, "Ready. De Burgo, get up here with that oil. And—watch out! To yer left!"
De Burgo fumbled the oil, reaching for his pistol. The bag fell, ruptured, and sent a thick petroleum reek up around them.
O'Rourke cursed. "Peter's Holy nut sack, O'Hagan, can't you tell a stray cat from a Spanish soldier? Damn it, a waste of oil and a waste of time, both." He scanned the frenetically running figures of his command, most routing the remaining Spaniards beyond the northern limit of the warehouses. "Sheridan?"
The soldier in question, who had reached the next warehouse, turned round, then ducked as a musket ball clipped the building's corner. "Yes, Sergeant?"
"Get over here with your oil. We need it for this warehouse."
"Yes, sir." He reported as he came. "Ensign O'Mara's having a problem, sir. Both of his sappers' fuses are ruined."
"Ruined?"
"Aye, sir. Probably mud. Soaked through the bags when we were lying in the jungle."
_Well isn't that just feckin' perfect._ "Right. Butler, make yourself useful for a change. Run to O'Mara, tell him that in place of the fuses, he's to use a trail of oil, touched by a trail of powder."
"But, Sergeant, that could—"
"O'Mara's putting flame to food and wine, not powder. His men will get away in time. Now, no more thinking, Butler: ye're not very good at it. Get on with you."
Butler shrugged, trotted out the door—and went down with a bullet through the gut. Sheridan saw the lagging Spaniard who'd fired the shot, popped a round after the retreating silhouette, missed.
O'Rourke bellowed. "No time for that, Sheridan. Your job is in here. Spread your oil. De Burgo, you take Butler's message to O'Mara. And you'd best do it on the double-quick or you'll be a pin cushion for Spanish rapiers."
O'Hagan sidled up to his sergeant. "What about Butler, though? Do we carry him? 'Cause it's sure he can't walk."
O'Rourke hated what he said—and would have to do—next, more than any other part of soldiering. "It's sure he won't _live_ , O'Hagan, not with that wound. Get about planting your charge. I'll see to poor Butler."
Hugh waited for the first of the warehouse explosions before signaling Purcell and then O'Bannon to board the _patache_. Purcell climbed up toward the stern along the aft-anchor line with a steadying hold on the tiller-chains, and O'Bannon slid up over the chainplates and laid hold of the dead-eyes at the amidships ratlines. The rest of the men stayed below the curve of the hull, waiting for their team leaders to affix and toss netting over the side, by which they would ostensibly swarm aboard the deck of the Spanish ship.
A hoarse curse overhead drew O'Donnell's attention to Purcell. The infallible and silent climber was twisting his left hand around vigorously, as if it had been suddenly caught in a trap. Which wasn't far off from what had happened. A slight shift of the rudder had tightened the chain, snagging his left index finger. With another curse, the _tercio_ 's best climber toppled and fell into the water with a noisy splash.
O'Bannon's silhouette froze. O'Donnell waved up toward the deck, hoping that the scout's extraordinary eyes could make out the gesture. Evidently they did, because O'Bannon was up and over the gunwale in a blink, snagging the net on one of the cleats as he went.
Rapid footfalls padded on the low quarterdeck overhead—right as Purcell came up gasping. O'Donnell ripped open his oilskin pouch and pulled out Michael McCarthy's .45 just as two muskets fired down into the water and cries of alarm came from the ship's stern. Purcell, hit, grunted, twisted, and rolled to one side.
Hugh tugged himself to the aft end of the rudder with one quick jerk of his left arm; he pinned himself against it as he raised the up-time pistol and snapped off its safey. He brought its sights in line with the stern and the two Spanish guards he saw there, one of whom was reloading, the other of whom had drawn a hanger and was calling for help. Remembering to pause between shots long enough for the barrel to drift down toward his target again, O'Donnell started firing.
Disobeying every rule he'd ever heard or been schooled in regarding such weapons, Hugh did not even bother to count the rounds. He had learned that in a crisis, the initiative lost by striving for perfect execution—even if that only took one second—was often the difference between defeat and victory. In this case, precise shooting and conserving ammunition were simply not priorities. Clearing the stern and terrifying the Spanish with a startling volume of fire were.
And his split-second decision seemed sound. His first two shots missed, but the third punched a red hole straight through the musketeer's sternum. The other Spaniard, who'd been facing the other way, spun around just in time to be missed twice and hit once. He staggered back out of sight. And Hugh realized that he'd been counting his shots, after all. Having started with one round already in the chamber, that left him two more before he was dry.
Letting the weapon hang on its lanyard, he reached down toward the faces clustered around the stern. "Bill Kelly, where's that hand-spike your were carrying? Good. O'Bregan, fetch that coir netting out of the drink and be ready to throw it up to me. The rest of you, weapons in hand."
O'Donnell, driving the hand spike into the pintle-and-gudgeon joint halfway up the rudder, pulled himself halfway to the taffrail. He clutched at the top of the stern-window shutters for fingertip-purchase while he freed the handspike and swung it over to dig into the edge of the transom, just seven feet over the water-line. From there he'd have to pull himself toward the deck, since jumping wouldn't be much help: one foot was dangling in midair and the other was precariously balanced upon the rudder. If a new bunch of Spanish found him now—
A sudden eruption of gunfire from amidships signaled that the remainder of the _patache_ 's anchor watch had discovered O'Bannon's boarding party. But only one pepperbox revolver was speaking in response to what sounded like several Spanish pistols. Cries and readied steel rang along the length of the ship and more shouts were audible beneath the weather deck. The rest of the crew was starting to react and would be coming topside.
Hugh paused, long enough for a half-second of precaution to push through his impulse to act immediately. "Grenades!" he hissed down below. "Who's got 'em out?"
Three men answered tentatively. "But no way to light the fuses, m'lord."
"Pepperboxes?"
Half a dozen replied, even more tentatively. "Can't tell if they're too wet, Colonel," said one. "Looks like the bags leaked."
"Never mind that. Odds are one works. One man fires a gun, the next man holds the fuse of his grenade against the nipple vent. If you get it lit, lob it over the taffrail. Now, damn it!"
Two pepperbox hammers fell before the third one fired, but the grenade's fuse fizzed and died. And now Spanish voices were coming up on deck, and a few were growing louder behind the shuttered stern windows only three feet away from Hugh's midriff.
Another dry snap of a pistol's hammer, then another full discharge, followed immediately by the lively hiss of a lit fuse. The grenade arced past Hugh's head toward the deck, just as he heard the weather braces getting yanked out from behind the shutters of the stern windows. He muttered to the men beneath him in Gaelic, "The two of you with working pistols: aim at the windows. Sweep 'em clean."
The windows opened at the same moment that another grenade sputtered into life, and the one that had been lobbed on the deck went off. The Spanish musketeers who appeared in the stern windows—two black muzzles running out—fell back under a fusillade of fire from not just two, but three of the pepperbox pistols. A moan up on the quarterdeck suggested that the first grenade had at least wounded someone.
Hugh rapped out new orders. "Half of you, in the stern windows and hit them along the lower deck." The second grenade went off. "O'Bregan toss me the netting. Follow with the rest as soon as I've secured it."
Without pausing to consider the possibilities or consequences of failure, O'Donnell simultaneously pushed and pulled himself toward the _patache_ 's low-slung quarterdeck, scrabbled madly for a handhold, almost fell, but got three fingers over the taffrail. That gave him enough leverage to get his second hand on it as well. Fear and natural strength helped him heave his whole body up and over it in a single powerful yank. Hitting the quarterdeck at an angle, he rolled toward one of the flag lockers; he saw a ferocious melee amidships and saw heads turning in his direction.
He leaped up, looped the netting twice about the handspike, and snagged its sharp hook around one of the taffrail's balusters. As he tossed the netting out over the transom so it spread down to his waiting men, Hugh caught up the .45 in his other hand, and turned.
Two sword-armed Spaniards were already pounding up the four shallow stairs that separated the main deck from the quarterdeck. But behind them, another one was raising a matchlock pistol.
Hugh drew a careful bead on the pistoleer, let the up-time barrel drop a little, and squeezed the trigger slowly. The .45's sharp roar stopped the two approaching swordsmen for a moment, their eyes wide. The pistoleer grabbed his left thigh with one hand, but fired his matchlock with the other. The resulting stagger spoiled whatever reasonable aim he might have achieved; the ball whined off into the dark, well over Hugh's head.
The two Spanish swordsmen resumed their charge. Hugh gave ground, drawing—and hating—the short cutlass, and hearing the first of his men's hands scrabbling at the taffrail.
Rather than fire immediately, Hugh waited for the two Spaniards to finish closing. He noted the quick exchange of glances that meant they would try to time their blows to be simultaneous, eliminating any reasonable chance for him to parry both. But that wasn't what Hugh had in mind. As they lunged forward, weapons back to strike, Hugh swung the cutlass in his left hand to deflect the blow of the smaller of the two at the same moment that he raised the .45 and fired its last round straight into the chest of the much larger man at a range of three feet. Not because he was more fearful of the larger man—they were often the less nimble, and so, less dangerous, swordsmen—but because he was a considerably bigger target. And Hugh dared not miss, not now.
He didn't. Although the bullet was low and off center to the right, the large man gasped, his overhand slice becoming a wavering and easily dodged swat. The fellow on the left, who was clearly the better swordsman, feinted rather than striking directly. But Hugh's long professional training, even with so cumbersome and inelegant a tool as a cutlass, allowed him to roll his wrist in a tight, defensive _moulinet_ and almost trap the real blow between his sword's blade and abbreviated top quillon.
The Spaniard cursed, yanked his weapon back, then started and stared over Hugh's shoulder. A pepperbox roared once alongside O'Donnell's left ear. Three wide red holes, made by .30 caliber lead balls, appeared just below the swordsman's right clavicle. He staggered back and immediately disappeared under a rush of torsos and cutlass-wielding arms: the first wave of Wild Geese had arrived over the taffrail. Hugh drew in a deep breath. _Time to spend a second assessing the situation._
The fight amidships was a desperate brawl of flashing blades but only occasional gun discharges. Which meant that more of the oilskin bags had leaked, ruining the powder of the pepperbox revolvers that normally gave his men a decisive edge in firepower. Even so, those few that still functioned were doing so decisively. The Wild Geese just arrived from the Lowlands had long trained for this kind of contingency and used the five chambers of each heavy unipiece cylinder sparingly. No fusillades, therefore, but when one of their own number was flanked or threatened by multiple opponents, the triple-charged weapons intervened, eliminating an enemy and thereby allowing the superior swordsmanship of the Irish mercenaries to carry the day. Hugh could see that the Spanish had already become so fearful of the weapons that they held back from assaulting too directly, and thus were not gaining the ground that their superior numbers should have made possible.
But that would not last for long. And judging from the deck-muted discharges and grenade blasts underfoot, the Spanish would soon be pouring up on the weather deck with increasing speed, running from the Wild Geese who'd entered by way of the stern windows. And those growing numbers were already exacting a toll, despite the intercession of the occasional pepperbox. At least half a dozen of the Wild Geese who'd boarded behind O'Bannon were down, and many of those still fighting were doing so with gashed arms, legs, or freshly missing fingers. The Spanish had to be broken, and there was only one sure way to do it.
Hugh gave orders to his boarders as he ejected the spent magazine from the Colt and pulled a fresh one out of the oilskin bag. "Those with working pistols, you've five seconds to load fresh cylinders. The rest: ready grenades with short fuses, to throw at my signal. Or, if you've only a cutlass, charge as soon as we start forward."
Two more of the Wild Geese in the amidships melee staggered and fell, one clutching the Spanish rapier that was still lodged in his chest.
"Ready, men," Hugh cried. "Follow me!"
Hugh sped down the four stairs just as several of the Spaniards on the main deck saw him and made to charge. But they drew up sharply as he shouted. "Now, at the walk—fire!"
Two, and then a third, pepperbox started blasting away, each discharge sending three of the lead balls into the densely packed Spaniards. Several slumped over, others clutched suddenly bleeding limbs. Half a dozen Wild Geese with nothing but cutlasses charged past Hugh and headlong into the flank of the Spanish, who turned to meet them.
But Hugh kept walking forward, .45 raised level with his eye, watching the Spanish, picking out the leaders. At seven paces, and seeing the onslaught against O'Bannon's Wild Geese faltering as the Spanish began shifting to deal with the new threat from the quarterdeck, he brought up his second hand to stabilize the gun. He stopped, chose a tightly grouped cluster of likely targets, and started squeezing off rounds from the up-time weapon with the steadiness and finality of a metronome.
The mass of Spaniards recoiled from the sharp, percussive roars of the .45 and from the falling bodies that were closest to its chosen field of fire. And then three at the back of their ranks broke for the bow at a run.
That was what Hugh had been watching, and waiting, for. "Grenades! Into the crowd at the portside gunwale!"
As Hugh reloaded, and the Spanish roiled in a confusion of men trying to flee, men trying to fight, and men trying to choose between those options, two grenades arced into the largely undecided rear ranks of those lately come sailors who had yet to add their numbers to the fight against O'Bannon's boarders. Several leaped away from the sparking bombs, two diving over the gunwale itself. The first went off at the same moment that Hugh brought up the reloaded .45 and fired through the magazine in one long rush, straight into the milling crowd.
As often happens in battle, the Spanish broke all at once, the way deer do when a hunter approaches too closely. Without any apparent coordination other than an instinctual sense of the disintegrating morale of their fellow creatures, they scattered wildly. Some went over the gunwales, while others ran to the bow and swung down the lines in the water. Two tried escaping below decks along the forward companionway, only to be bowled over by a panicked group streaming upward, who, to a man, joined the rout over the side and into the water.
As the press of the melee broke, it also revealed many of the half-naked Wild Geese who lay dead or writhing on the deck of the _patache_. Hugh forced himself to look beyond them to O'Bannon, and shout, "No time for the wounded, now. We need to get the signal rockets and the whistles. Until those Dutchmen tow us from under the Spanish guns, we're none of us sure of living out the hour."
O'Rourke ducked as a Spaniard swayed around the corner of the harbormaster's ramshackle cottage and fired. The ball bit into the dirt five feet ahead of him. _Thank God that bastard is drunk, and he won't reload in time, so no need to stop and cut him down_.
Half-reminding himself, he shouted to his much-reduced unit, "Sprint for the harbor, lads. Look for the lines just in the water at the foot of the wharf. Bag your guns when you've shot 'em dry. We're running, not fighting, now!"
At that moment, the rolling, intermittent explosions from the warehouses behind them were almost drowned out by a sharp and sustained sputter of gunfire from the middle of the inner harbor. And through the many hoarse discharges of down-time weapons, Aodh O'Rourke heard the distinct, reverberant reports of Hugh's .45 automatic.
He'd been prepared to shout an alert to his men, but they didn't need it. As if it had been a supper-bell rung for hungry hounds, the surviving Wild Geese fixed on the sound of that gunfire and sprinted toward it, their flagging endurance suddenly refreshed, their trajectories homing on the same relative compass point. _Good—_
_—or maybe not so good_ , O'Rourke amended. Passing within ten yards of the eastern end of the low, rude rampart of Puerto Cabello's harbor battery, he could hear urgent shouts in Spanish. And they were loud enough to be easily understandable:
"The _patache_ is under attack, too? Is it a diversion?"
"Fool: if it was a diversion, she would have been attacked before the warehouses, not after."
And a third voice: "So they mean to escape on her?"
"Madness. There cannot be enough of them to take her and sail her."
"Not take her? Dolt, those aren't ordinary guns. Hear them? Again?" Hugh's .45 now emitted a slow, sustained pulse of thunder.
"What is it?"
"I don't know. Maybe a new gun made by up-timers or their allies."
"Up-timers? Here? But—"
"Idiot. We must act, not debate. Bring the guns to bear on the _patache_! Quickly!"
"The _patache_? But she is our own—!"
"The _patache_ is lost," confirmed an older, calmer voice. As if to prove that assertion, the .45 tore through the other sounds of combat with a fast staccato flurry, counterpointed by the dull crump of black-powder grenades. "Pass the word to the barracks: the raiders are running. Cease hunting them in the streets. Man the battery, instead. Stand to guns one and two. Others will be brought to bear as new crews arrive. Hurry."
"Yes, Lieutenant."
_Well, that ties it. Seems I'll be disobeying my own orders to make for the water. But I_ could _do with a little company_. O'Rourke scanned the closest silhouettes of his fleeing men. "Hsst! Hsssssst! O'Hagan, De Burgo!"
"Sergeant?"
"Aye?"
"To me. Here, in the shadow of this shed. You've cylinders left for your pistols, yeh?"
A moment of silence. Then nods, and De Burgo's slow bass, "But we're to be running, heading for—"
"Not us three. Not yet. Fresh cylinders, lads. Either of you have grenades?"
Both nodded. "Never had the need or chance to use 'em," appended O'Hagan.
"That's because it was possible we might need them for what we're going to do now."
"Which is?"
"We're going to sow some grapes of wrath in behind that open battery to the west of us. Each of you light a slow match and follow me."
Hugh heard as much as saw the approach of the Dutch pinnace that had been fitted with a down-time steam engine. The demi-culverins at the mouth of the channel spotted her as well. Two spoke, put plumes in the water, almost fifty yards behind her. Either they were very poor gunners, or, more likely, not used to shooting at that fast a target so close to shore. Unburdened except for her operators and the prize-crew for the _patache_ , the pinnace was making at least six knots.
Hugh shouted toward O'Bregan in the bows. "Found an axe?"
"No, m'lord. This ship is a pigsty. Nothing's placed proper. We're almost through the anchor line with the saw, though."
"Keep at it. O'Bannon?"
"Sir?"
"Losses?"
"Nine dead. Three more will be by dawn. Half a dozen wounded."
Hugh's stomach sank. That was half of the men who'd boarded. He kept to the tasks at hand. "Set the rest to get the nets into the water over the port quarter. That's where O'Rourke's men will be coming in along the lines that O'Hagan and Murrow swam over to the opposite shore."
"Right away, m'lord."
Hugh nodded, looked around, saw his men at their tasks, wanted to busy himself alongside them, but stayed that impulse. A commander's job was to stay alert, to watch for the next threat or task, not to become embroiled in the ones already being handled. He stared out toward the low ramparts of the inner harbor's battery, the walls of which screened most of Puerto Cabello from view. No sign of O'Rourke's men yet, of their own bamboo breathing tubes bobbing across the hundred and twenty yards of glass-smooth bay water between the _patache_ and the guns that could sink her. There were lights, and now drums and coronets, on the Spanish ships deeper in the harbor, but that was of no consequence. They were too far off to see what was happening, and so could not be sure of a course of action. They would learn too late, and still be too far off, to respond.
But the battery: even on a mostly lightless night, they would have seen and heard the savage gunfight on the _patache_. And when it ended without a reassuring flurry of coronets and responses to the fort's many hails, they would know the outcome of that fight as surely as had they been standing on the deck themselves: the _patache_ was now an enemy vessel.
Their only hesitation might be to avoid sinking her where she sat astride the inner mouth of the channel. But once they saw, and heard, the approaching steam pinnace above the flash, glare, and roaring of the sabotaged warehouses, it was a certainty they'd respond.
And perhaps they were doing so already. There was a blast near the ramparts. But as the sound died away, and shouting rose up from the dim outline of the battery's covering walls, Hugh realized that it hadn't been the roar of a cannon, or even a range-finding musket shot. It had been a black powder grenade.
Which was to say, it was O'Rourke.
O'Hagan finally reached the ready powder for the middle gun of the battery, grenade fussing fulminatively in his left hand as he cleared a path with the pepperbox in his right. One of the gunners sheltering behind the next cannon popped up and fired a miquelet-lock pistol at him. O'Rourke snapped up his pepperbox, but was too late. The man had already ducked back down.
O'Hagan had stumbled, but, limping, finished his rush up the stairs. He pried the loose cover off a readied powder keg, dumped the grenade in and then prepared to jump down from the battery platform to the ground. And, as O'Rourke had expected, the same gunner at the neighboring gun popped up again, furnished with a fresh pistol. O'Rourke fired twice; the second round hit the man, who disappeared with a yelp. Not dead, but he and any proximal friends were now probably disinclined from trying to fight back anytime soon. And when the seven-second fuse on O'Hagan's grenade had burned down, thoughts of counterattack would almost surely be swept away by a panicked impulse toward self-preservation.
O'Rourke counted through two of the seconds, jerked his head at the gimping O'Hagan, and shouted toward De Burgo, "Help him! Get to the water!" O'Rourke counted another two seconds, then ducked and ran himself, jumping over and around the half-dozen bodies that marked the path by which they'd entered the rear of the battery.
It hadn't been that hard to do, actually. With the noise of the warehouses exploding, the panicked shouting, and the Spanish presumption that the raiders were all in flight, O'Rourke and his two troopers hadn't encountered any guards until they were down in the marshalling area of the battery itself. There'd been powder enough there, too, but most of it was still in tightly sealed barrels that they wouldn't be able to get open in time, not before the gun crews and soldiers would see what they were up to and swarm them. By sheer numbers, if nothing else.
So instead, O'Rourke and his men blended into the chaos as best they could, responding to a few casual inquiries in perfect Spanish as they approached the stairs to the gun platform. There, in the lantern light, their identities became suspect and the shooting had started.
But it had not been random gunplay. Even De Burgo understood, without having to be reminded, that their targets were the soldiers guarding the battery, not the gunners. So when the pepperboxes started snapping quickly, the gun wielding, morion-helmeted Spaniards were the first to go down, not even understanding who was attacking them. The gunners fled behind their pieces. O'Rourke and De Burgo kept their heads down while O'Hagan charged up the stairs to one of the gun's ready powder supply, lighting his long-fused grenade . . .
. . . Which went off as O'Rourke cleared the waist-high covering wall at the east end of the battery. "Down!" he shouted, and saw De Burgo carrying O'Hagan to the ground with him.
An eyeblink after the grenade, the powder went off with a roar and a flash. Pieces of wood, mortar, stone, maybe metal struck the other side of the screening wall and went hissing over it. Then another blast, and another—
Panicked screams of women and children and no small number of men began rising up from the town itself. O'Rourke gauged the distance to the water: twenty yards, maybe twenty-five. If any Spanish happened by while they tried to find the lines . . .
"De Burgo, run down and find the lines. I'll cover you. Signal when you've found 'em. I'll bring O'Hagan and we'll go swimming. Well, towing."
O'Hagan muttered. "Feck, O'Rourke, I'm no cripple. I can—"
"You can be shutting up now, you eejit. You'll get us all killed, hobbling down to the beach on your own like a creaky old gaffer. De Burgo, what are you waiting for? Dawn?"
De Burgo's large dark mass rolled up off the sand flats and loped down toward the water. O'Rourke moved toward O'Hagan at the crouch, turned, kept an eye on the town, and suppressed a sigh. He had one round left in the cylinder. _Better than nothing_ , he temporized. _But not by much._
A Spanish soldier appeared around the far end of the battery, shaken, shouting to locate survivors, ducking when still more powder went off, blowing a sheet of angry white-yellow flame high into the night sky.
_Damn it, he'll see me in this light_ , thought O'Rourke, who doubted he'd make the shot at this range. Another ten paces, though—
"Wait here," he ordered O'Hagan in English, and scrambled up, running toward the soldier, yelling, "Help me! Help me!" in Spanish.
The Spaniard had apparently just noticed O'Rourke peripherally, but approached so openly, and with explosions still roaring behind him and just overhead, the man ducked, his weapon forgotten in his hands. He ran toward the Irishman. "What? What help do you need?" he shouted back.
_You just gave it to me by running closer_ , O'Rourke thought with a twinge of regret. He raised the pepperbox and fired.
The Spaniard stopped as if stunned, then staggered as he saw fire-reflecting blood begin leaking out of the hole in the front of his buff coat. With a groan he sagged down to his knees, eyes pinching tight against a sudden wave of pain.
O'Rourke turned, ran back to O'Hagan, and saw as he did so that De Burgo had found the weighted lines that O'Cahan and Murrow had put here and by which the rest of his raiders were no doubt making their way to the _patache_. O'Hagan hobbled up. The sand covering his right thigh was dark and slick with blood. "Let's get you home, you clumsy oaf," O'Rourke muttered as, shouldering up O'Hagan on the right side, he led them down to the edge of the inner harbor.
De Burgo had already stripped out of his clothes and had his breathing tube out. "Need a hand?" he cried out in English.
O'Rourke shook his head angrily. _A fool for crying out, a double fool for doing it in a foreign tongue—_
O'Rourke never heard the shots: they were drowned out by a new set of roars from the battery as more ready powder went up. One Spanish ball cut off the lobe of O'Hagan's left ear, two more drilled into the water beside him. Others whined overhead and one struck De Burgo in the shoulder. The big man cursed and staggered before a defiant instinct brought him back upright—and into the path of two more balls that caught him in the midsection.
As the already-dead Irishman sank down into the water, O'Rourke found the line and got O'Hagan's hands on it. As he kicked his shoes off, he felt a sensation like a wide, hot poker go through the large expanse of stocky muscle at the back of his left thigh. _Damn it_ , O'Rourke thought, losing hold of his breathing tube as he stumbled. The length of bamboo disappeared into the fire-reflecting water. _Well, it's up and down to breathe for me, or I'm musket-fodder for sure_.
O'Hagan stared at him around his own breathing tube, frowning at the dark stain in the water around O'Rourke's right leg.
"Get going, O'Hagan. You're blocking the line."
O'Hagan shrugged and sank under the water until only two inches of his breathing tube remained, moving slowly but steadily out toward the inner mouth of the channel and the _patache_ that sat astride it.
O'Rourke towed himself a yard, drew in a deep breath, dove down sideways and kept pulling himself along the lightly weighted line, hand over hand.
There was a muted bacon-frying sound around him, and something hot bumped off his abdomen: a musket ball, flattened and slowed by the three feet of water under which O'Rourke was sheltered.
_Well, lucky me. And all I have to do is_ stay _lucky all the way to the_ patache.
_A pity that I've never been a lucky man._
Hugh watched as the Dutch sailors swarmed over the port bow and O'Bregan and Kelly tossed the severed anchor cable to the pinnace's crew. Along with mooring hawsers and lines from the bowsprit, it would serve as a makeshift tow-cable at least until they got out of the channel and away from the Spanish guns. There, a proper towing rig could be improvised on the move. No one was sanguine about stopping to square away the pinnace as a proper tug, not while within reach of possible Spanish pursuers.
O'Cahan, still dripping from helping O'Rourke's wounded raiders out of the water, passed by. Hugh hailed him. "How many made it back?"
"A baker's dozen, m'lord, including that Calabar fellow. Half are wounded."
"O'Rourke?"
O'Cahan shook his head. "No sign of him. Last seen scooting over to make the mischief we saw in the battery. But there's hope yet, sir."
O'Donnell smiled sadly. "There's always hope, with O'Rourke. We might find him rowing out to us on a raft of palm trees in a day or so." He said it more for O'Cahan's benefit than to assert any serious hope of O'Rourke's survival.
But O'Cahan must have detected his commander's suppressed tone of grief. "I'm not just blathering fairy-wishes, m'lord. We've still got weight on one of the lines to the far shore. Probably the weight of one or two men. Hard to tell. But it could be O'Rourke, that stubborn tinker's mule."
Hugh nodded, trying not to get overly hopeful. "It just might be."
O'Cahan sucked breath in meditatively. "My only worry, Colonel, is in waiting for them. We shouldn't spend any longer here than we have to."
"I agree. Get two men and start reeling in the line. If they're not on board by the time the Dutchmen are ready to move"—which, would not be long, judging from their competent progress rigging the tow-lines and raising the _patache_ 's fore-and-aft main-sail—"then secure it to the pinnace."
O'Cahan gaped then smiled. "We _tow_ them out, Colonel?"
"Why not?" O'Donnell smiled back. "I think we can be certain that they'll be hanging on for dear life. Literally."
"Aye, sir. I'll pass the words and gather the men to start reeling them in. Any other orders?"
Hugh nodded. "One, Mr. O'Cahan. Detail two men to take our dead below deck. The Spanish, too."
O'Cahan seemed startled. "As you say, sir. But, as regards the Spanish, I'm sure the fish are hungry tonight, sir."
O'Donnell stared at O'Cahan. "They always are, Daniel. But they've been fed enough this night." Hugh glanced over the deck littered with the bodies of his men, envisioned the others they'd left behind. "More than enough."
**_Oranjestad, St. Eustatia_**
Anne Cathrine wiped her hands on her apron and stared distractedly as a larger-than-necessary party of Dutch soldiers-become-workmen wheeled half a dozen large boxes out of the fort's landward sally port. They were all stamped in unusually regular block letters and she had to think hard for several seconds in order to decipher the up-time legends: _primary transmitter components; secondary transmitter components; transformers; wiring, non-antenna_. The boxes had been among the first unloaded from the ships of Reconnaissance Flotilla X-Ray, and had been handled with more care than a cargo of silk, fine crystal and irreplaceable gems.
Because, according to Eddie, their contents were every bit as valuable and irreplaceable. A radio, using spokelike lines of transceiving wires elevated on The Quill's volcanic northeast slopes, would be capable of reaching Vlissingen in the United Provinces. The communications would not work routinely, and not enable them to have what Eddie called "voice-grade exchange." But even if a single, two-hundred word message took three days of constant, repetitive signaling or listening to send or compile, it hardly mattered. The fastest other means of exchanging information was by swift ship, and even the swiftest could rarely make an Atlantic crossing in as little as forty-five days. Sixty was more typical. With this powerful new radio, strategic updates could be exchanged promptly, and calls for assistance could reach their allies within the same week, rather than (hopefully) the same season.
Anne Cathrine realized that the soldier-workmen were loitering around their boxes. Unusual behavior, since she had observed that most of the Dutch preferred to finish work quickly and efficiently once they started it. And then she realized that, quite slyly, they were all stealing looks at her.
She felt heat rise up in her face, accompanied by a wild mix of outrage, shame, and, worst of all, flattered vanity. At the same moment, a long hand came down upon her shoulder gently. Sophie Rantzau stood just behind her, staring at the men with unblinking gray eyes. After a moment, they gave up their pretense of lounging about and returned to their chores. The youngest, a fellow whose blond hair was almost white, actually flushed, bowed an apology, and set his shoulder to one of the crates with repentant vigor.
"Well," observed Sophie mildly, "at least one of them has some breeding. Or shame."
Anne Cathrine glanced at the young woman's face—Sophie was just two years her senior—and marveled at the gravity in it, the composure. She wondered if anything of mundane origin could ruffle that smooth brow, those chiseled features. And for the briefest moment, she felt envy. Not the petty, childish envy of a young woman craving the looks or possessions or popularity of another. Rather, her envy was one with her admiration for Sophie's apparently effortless transcendence beyond such trifles. At times, her demeanor reminded Anne Cathrine of the tales she'd heard in childhood of the Norns: tall, mystical fate-maidens who were woven in and out of the pagan mythology of the Scandinavian countries in the way that ligaments connected bones and tissue. They connected past and present, action and outcome, free choice and fate in ways that were both various and mysterious, always transmitting and influencing earthly and heavenly power, but never holding it themselves.
She realized that Sophie was looking at her, one eyebrow raised. "You are lost in thought frequently today, Anne Cathrine. Tell me, does the appearance of the radio equipment mean that you have had word of your husband? That he might be returning?"
Anne Cathrine turned back into the full shade of the tent in which Ambrósio Brandão first received the sick of the colony. "No, quite the opposite. He is remaining in the south. And again, he may not say why, or where." She clenched her apron so hard that her fingers became white.
Leonora, watching Brandão examine a young child with a fever, glanced over, her brow dipped in concern.
Sophie nodded gravely. "It would prey upon any woman's soul, since we know that secrecy and hazardous enterprises go hand in hand. But be calmed: your husband is with good men and loyal guards. His steamships are the finest in the world and may strike their foes with impunity."
Anne Cathrine frowned. "Yes, but it will not always be thus, for the war machines of one nation quickly become the war machines of all others."
"Truly spoken," Sophie agreed. "But leave that worry for the future that shall bring it. For now, the unique power of his ships means that there is _less_ cause for worry."
It was a logical argument, and comforting in its way, but Anne Cathrine, much as she hated to admit it, was not a creature of logic first and foremost. She was a creature of passion. She was not concerned with reasons or rationalizations. She just wanted Eddie. She wanted him in her cabin, in her arms, in her bed, and in her, and in that order. And she wanted it—wanted it all—right now. "I think I should return to work," she muttered hoarsely, with a quick smile at Sophie, but without eye contact. She did not want her Norn-friend to look into her eyes and see her shallowness, her illogic, and the primal heat that old-wives' tales warned went along all too often with her red-gold hair.
Drawing alongside Brandão, she heard him finishing his examination of a young child no more than four years old, of mixed Amerind and African parentage. "The low fever and the location of the transient pains are consistent with both yellow fever and the dengue. Malaria or a systemic viral infection—influenza, I think you call it—is not out of the question, but unlikely. The location of her aches is overwhelmingly associated with the first two illnesses, and none of the secondary signs of malaria are present."
Anne Cathrine looked at the child's light brown back, patient and calm under Brandão's expert hands, and felt a terrible, gnawing compulsion to run soothing palms along it, to bring a moment's comfort, if nothing else.
Leonora, eyes alert and incisive, watched Brandão's fingers as they gently mixed calming touches with an almost unnoticeable palpation of the lymph nodes of the neck and armpits. "How long," she asked, "until we know which manner of disease is causing the symptoms?" In her sister's tone, Anne Cathrine could hear the intensity and discipline of a budding physician, but also found it oddly detached and disturbing.
Brandão shrugged. "A day, maybe two. Watch for the growth of a rash"—he let his hands tarry at two points on the girl's back—"here, and here, almost like measles. That is a discriminating symptom of dengue. In the meantime, this child must be kept quiet and resting. If this is a hemorrhagic fever, then we do not wish to tax the body, or cause a rise in what the up-timers call 'blood pressure.' This precaution is not decisively efficacious at reducing the possibilities of internal hemorrhage, but is the best alternative at our disposal. Also, this child is to be given—by which I mean, compelled to drink—a cup of water every hour. At the very least. Dehydration is a prime concern, regardless of which malady is at work, here."
From behind, Sophie's voice calmly pointed out, "One cup every hour is three times the adult ration, Doctor. Will Councilor Corselles allow it?"
"I expect so, but it hardly matters. If Corselles forbids it, I will appeal to van Walbeeck and he will approve it. From his time in the East Indies, and then Recife, he knows what an outbreak of a serious disease can do to a colony's morale. He will not take chances here. He will allow us to retain the child in quarantine and use what resources we need to effect a cure."
"Some of the landowners," said Sophie in a quiet, and almost dangerous tone, "voiced their opinion that the surest means to protect the colony is to place the child in an oubliette until she dies."
"Idiots," Brandão declared in a low mutter. "Unless this is influenza, which I very much doubt, they should be fearful of mosquitoes, not this child. That is how yellow fever, dengue, and malaria are spread. And in caring for the child, we may also watch the development of the symptoms to make a more certain diagnosis and provide care appropriately." He turned around to face Anne Cathrine and Sophie. "This is why I returned to the New World, you know."
Anne Cathrine nodded. "To treat the sick."
"Well, yes, that too," Brandão allowed. "But it is the education, the teaching, that I meant to do. The up-timer information and methods change everything, even without all the wonderful devices that they used in their scientific achievements. Surely, married to a man such as your husband is said to be, you must see this even more regularly than I."
Anne Cathrine found it hard to think about Eddie without getting distracted by sensations that were decidedly not logical or learned in nature. "I am uncertain what you mean, Doctor. Perhaps you would explain further?"
"Well," smiled Brandão, "I suppose it _is_ different in your husband's areas of expertise, where his knowledge is made manifest through engineers. In the case of medicine, the phenomenon is subtler, albeit no less profound. Indeed, I hazard to say that it is _more_ profound, particularly when it comes to the identification, management, and treatment of epidemics.
"Consider the case of this child, and how the library at Grantville has revolutionized how we may approach her illness. Ten years ago, when faced with such maladies in the Pernambuco, we had Dutch physicians, Portuguese physicians, __murrano_ s_ like myself, and persons with lesser medical experience whose journeys took them through Recife. Each one of us spoke Latin, but yet, we had no common compendium of epidemiology. And we simply accepted that state of affairs as inevitable. We did not see that we were milling about our own tower of Babel, each of us having different names for the same disease. And just as often, we were unable to agree on distinctions between diseases. For instance, some persons among us insisted that all tropical hemorrhagic fevers were simply different expressions of the same underlying disease. Most held that diseases such as cholera were spread by miasmas operating at the will of God, while a few of us held with Italian physicians that the means of contagion were natural and not simply spread by airs polluted by rotting matter."
He shook his head. "Then, Lady Anne Cathrine, your husband's town appears. There, not only in learned texts in its library, but in the 'home health' pamphlets possessed by even the least educated families, our theories were shamed, shown to be a mixture of bad guesswork and superstition. And the impact upon us down-time physicians was not restricted to such concepts as germ theory and variable vectors of infection, but also by the sheer uniformity of the observations, of the nomenclatures, of the methodologies. It was no longer necessary to guess what caused a disease. It was an established fact, often illustrated by pictures taken through these extraordinary devices you call microscopes. It was no longer necessary to strive across barriers of different language and experience to determine if, in fact, we were speaking about the same diseases. Now all the diseases had names in Latin arising from a single classification scheme applied to their causal microorganisms, and all of which were described according to a proven range of diagnostic and symptomatic variables. In short, physicians were suddenly able to speak a common tongue, wherever they might be, whatever their experience had shown them."
He rubbed the child's back as might a loving grandfather. "And so I knew I had to come back to the New World, where we have brought so many of our diseases. And which has so many diseases that are completely unknown to us. It was incumbent upon me to share the particular features of the many maladies, and also the standardized means of identifying them, of discerning and conducting treatment, of assessing and thereby preventing further spread."
He leaned back and patted the child gently between her shoulder blades. The four-year-old rolled over; her large brown eyes scanned all of them gravely, possibly apprehensively. _Poor child_ , Anna realized, _she's probably never been this close to this many white people this long without being ordered about, or, quite possibly, beaten_. Anne Cathrine had noticed that, despite their wonderfully civilized and learned accomplishments in most other areas, many of the Dutch landowners showed a marked disregard for the welfare of the poor creatures whom they compelled to work their upstart cane plantations. "Doctor Brandão, this child, is she a slave?"
"Yes, she is. One of the few who came with us from Recife."
Leonora's careful eyes rolled round to study Brandão. "But we have been told that there is no slavery permitted on this island."
Brandão smiled. "I have observed that, here on St. Eustatia, different persons give different answers when asked about the existence or absence of manumission. The most precise description is, I believe, that there is no _new_ slavery permitted. Mostly."
"That is not a very precise definition, Doctor," Sophie observed dryly.
"No," sighed Brandão, "but it is the only one that fits our current situation."
"I was under the impression," Anne Cathrine remarked impatiently, "that Admiral Tromp and Jan van Walbeeck both disapprove of slavery."
"They do."
"Then this is a very strange way of demonstrating their disapproval."
Brandão shook his head. "Despite all the soldiers here, this is not simply an armed camp. There was a civilian authority in Oranjestad before we arrived, just as we brought one with us from Recife. And the question of who holds the greatest power is, often, less than clear."
"So the Dutch colonists have resisted Admiral Tromp's wishes in this matter?" Leonora asked slowly.
"That would be overstating the case in several particulars," Brandão explained through a sigh. "First, not all the colonists support slaveholding. That sentiment predominates only among the landowners. Second, they are not so much resisting the dictates of Tromp and van Walbeeck as they are finding ways to subvert or avoid them.
"Before leaving from Recife, Maarten Tromp unsuccessfully attempted to leave the slaves in that colony behind. But many feared life under Portuguese taskmasters, and in the case of many __mameluco_ s_, their actual status was ambiguous. Some were bondsmen, some were slaves, and some fell in between: persons whose bond-price had grown so many times greater over successive generations that there was no hope of ever buying their way out of servitude."
"So slaves in everything but name," Sophie observed. Anne Cathrine started at her tone. Although it conveyed anger, it had gone from cool to cold.
Brandão helped the little girl to sit up. Anne Cathrine crouched down, ladled a cup of water out of the covered drinking pail, and poured it into a cup made of a coconut shell. The Jewish doctor nodded his thanks, passed it to the girl, and sighed as he continued his story. "Upon arriving here, the problem became even more complicated. The local workforce was predominantly African slaves, many brought over immediately after the first settlement, some purchased from the English and French on St. Christopher's. And the cash crop was tobacco. So when Tromp arrived he had many battles to fight. He was arriving with a military and refugee group almost ten times the size of the original colony, was making the island a more noticeable and urgent target for the Spanish, and needed to compel the local landowners to change their crop from the tobacco they no longer had a way to sell to the cane sugar that was at least practical and a reasonable commodity even among the settlements of the New World."
Anne Cathrine saw the problem immediately. "Of course. He had to choose between the changes he wanted to make and the changes he _had_ to make."
Brandão nodded. "Precisely. He already was in a position where he was, _de facto_ , usurping political and military control without the colony's consent and dictating policy to people who'd come to the New World seeking the freedom to do and work as they pleased."
"Which included owning slaves who would never have such freedoms," Sophie added darkly.
"Ironically, yes. However, it was painfully obvious to Tromp that, on top of all those impositions, he could not presume to change anything else, lest the original colonists rebel. Which would, of course, have been the end of everything. If the landowners from Oranjestad did not cooperate with those from Recife, and if both did not work together to grow the needed foodstuffs for almost three thousand people, the colony would have been as thoroughly destroyed as had the Spanish bombarded it for a week."
Leonora nodded. "And so this is what you mean by no 'new' slaves are permitted. Only those who were already in the two colonies before Tromp arrived are allowed."
Brandão shrugged, took the empty water cup from the young girl, whom he eased back down toward her sleeping palette with his palms. "If it were only so simple as that, Leonora."
"It _should_ be as simple as that," Anne Cathrine snapped. "I am sorry, Doctor," she apologized hastily. "My impatience is not with you, but with your implication that there are still other 'exceptions' to Admiral Tromp's rule against slaveholding."
"And you are as forgiven for your impatience as you are correct in foreseeing such connivance. Shortly after Admiral Tromp arrived and his perspectives on slavery became known, the original landowners sent their ship over to Africa yet again."
"To gather more slaves, in defiance of Admiral Tromp's law?"
Brandão shook a gnarled old finger. "Ah, their disregard for his policy was not so straightforward. You see, among their many other accomplishments, the Dutch are masters of circumlocution and legalistic distinctions so fine that a gnat could not perch upon their edge without falling off."
"How can this matter? When is a slave anything other than a slave?"
The old _murrano_ physician smiled ruefully. "When there is a document stating that he is not. Consider: the fluyt sent by the Dutch landowners arrives on the western coast of Africa. Ghana, let us presume. Slaves are brought to her master. He says, 'Actually, I am not interested in buying slaves. I am here to purchase the work contracts of bondsmen. I am here to find indentured servants who must work at whatever their master directs, under whatever conditions, for ten years, at which point they may buy their freedom. That is, if they have been able to save enough to do so.'"
"But that is absurd," Leonora exclaimed. "Given the conditions under which they work, any such person would be lucky merely to be alive after ten years. It is unthinkable that they would have the time or opportunity to set aside valuables equal to the price of their bond."
"Naturally. But by _law_ , they are not slaves. And Admiral Tromp and Jan van Walbeeck will be hard put to challenge this casuistry successfully. Oh, it does give them the ability to prevent or at least ameliorate the worst offenses of slavery: murder, rape, seizure or outright prohibition of personal goods. These new workers will enjoy the basic protections of our laws. But being signed over into indentured servitude by their African bondholders dodges the technicality of slavery, even though their lives will be little different."
Anne Cathrine stood. "And Admiral Tromp and van Walbeeck will tolerate this subversion of their clear intent?"
Brandão rose, crooked and bent, alongside her. "In the short term, they have little choice but to turn a blind eye. But if, as seems likely, the appearance of your flotilla is the harbinger of more ships flying friendly flags, and bringing aid against both the threats of hunger and of the Spanish, then I suspect Tromp and van Walbeeck will no longer pay so high a price for the cooperation of the landowners and their farms. And that—" Brandão said with a pat on her firm arm—"would be a very good thing indeed. Now, enough speculating. We have serious work before us. One fellow gave himself quite a gash while shoveling manure and is predictably infected. Then there are two Dutch imbeciles who tried to teach themselves spear fishing yesterday and believed that, since they were in the water the whole time, they were protected from the effects of the sun. After that, we will see how much pure ethanol our apparatus has distilled today and shall check on our stores of—"
As Leonora followed Brandão into an adjoining tent, Anne Cathrine felt a hand on her shoulder delay her from following immediately. She turned and saw Sophie's serious Norn-eyes gazing down at her again. "It is not every king's daughter, princess or otherwise, who conceives of a dislike for slavery. Too many see all but their highest-ranked subjects as nothing more than their thralls. And so, their minds and hearts are more than halfway reconciled to slavery as permissable, even desirable." Her gaze wavered, the first time Anne Cathrine had ever seen it do so. "Whatever unfortunate exchanges there have been between our families, I am proud to call you friend. And happy to think that our king has raised a person of such charity and integrity." Sophie nodded and followed the path Leonora had taken into the adjoining tent.
It took Anne Cathrine a full three seconds to recover from her surprise. She made to exit after the others but then remembered the lambent brown eyes that had looked at her so solemnly minutes before. She turned. The small girl now lay on her side, a light blanket pooled around her waist, her jet-black hair slightly tangled from the sweat of her fever, her thumb half in her mouth as she shivered despite the warmth of the day.
Anne Cathrine kneeled down and drew the blanket up a bit higher. As she placed a hand upon the child's cheek, she felt a tear run down her own. But she did not know why.
**_Oranjestad, St. Eustatia_**
Mike McCarthy, Jr., was puzzled by his escort from Oranjestad's small pier, Reverend Johannes Theodorus Polhemius. A man who seemed to alternate between shy silence and garrulous excesses of expostulation, he'd provided the up-timer with the complete dossiers of the eight workers who had volunteered to "learn about radios from the ground up" over the course of their work for Mike.
Two were sailors by trade; six were soldiers. From Polhemius' anxious yet highly generalized accolades about two of the latter, he suspected that pair were simply in it for the extra money. It was also possible they were motivated by boredom, wanting something better to do than waiting around to get a job they liked (going out as part of a ship's contingent) or a job they hated (farming as a contract laborer down on St. Christopher's). But the other six all seemed to genuinely have the blood of gadget-tinkerers running in their veins. One had been a watchmaker's apprentice before declining family fortunes sent him off to sea. Another had been a sapper in the Provinces before journeying to the New World. A third had most recently finished refurbishing various items of ships' chandlery that some half-piratical character named "Peg Leg Jol" had brought back to Oranjestad after raiding a small Spanish port down along Tierra Firma.
He also heard a good deal about their behavior, and piety or implied lack thereof, sobriety or implied lack thereof, and work ethic, which most of them seemed to have in fair measure or even excess. And he also had to fend off Polhemius' numerous invitations to a late breakfast of cassava bread and fish. Happily, he'd dined aboard the _Koninck David_ this morning with Captain Schooneman, enjoying the comparative delicacies of turtle and sweet potatoes served with a side of fried plantains.
As they walked through what was still mostly the tent-city of Oranjestad, families stopped to stare at Mike's clothes. Although he didn't have much left in the way of up-time duds, he had brought a western-style brimmed hat to shield against the tropical sun, as well as a bandana. That, and his lack of facial hair drew enough attention that he asked Polhemius, "Reverend, my clothes aren't _that_ strange. Why are all these people staring at me like I'm from another planet?"
Still walking briskly, Polhemius turned to stare at him and almost tripped over his own feet doing so; he was a markedly ungraceful man. "But you _are_ from another planet, mijn heer McCarthy. A planet almost four hundred years away from ours, in time. They are staring at you not because your clothes are strange to them, but because they know what they signify: that you are an up-timer. Please remember, they have heard of your people, but have never met one. They commenced their journey here less than six months after your town appeared in Germany." He rubbed his large, sunburned nose. "And they know that the, the _steam_ -ships are designed by your people, as well as the radio you will be commencing to build today."
"Well, I'm not really _building_ the radio—" Mike started, and then gave up. He was building this radio the way a kid builds a model airplane: assembling parts somebody else fabricated, according to painstaking instructions. Oh, sure, he understood the majority of the physics and mechanical properties of the transceiver, but he was mostly an engine and body-work guy. Drive-trains and differentials: that was his comfort-zone. Sending sparks halfway across the world? Well, he just hoped he didn't have to resort to improvisation . . .
Polhemius looked concerned. "You're not building the radio? But I thought—"
"Well, yeah, I'm building it in the sense that I'm putting it together. But it's not like I'm its inventor."
"Perhaps not, but that hardly matters. The aim of the entire project, to be able to send signals home instantly, is as other-worldly as you up-timers are. Or so it seems to all of us."
Mike heard the words "all of us," and frowned. "Reverend Polhemius, just how many people know what I'm going to be working on over the next few months?"
"The radio? Oh, a great many, I should say."
_Well, damn. That wasn't part of the original game plan._ "Reverend, I'm a little confused. I was told that we'd try to keep the radio a bit of a secret, at least for a while."
Polhemius frowned. "Ah. Yes. I see. But, as it turned out, we were faced with a dilemma when trying to find you helpers for the construction phase. As our leased plots on St. Christopher's have now become available for tillage, the demand for farm-workers has gone up. Also, we are sending more troops there to protect those farms, along with the English possessions. So, in order to be sure that you would get the kind of workers you needed for this task, we had to explain enough of what it entailed to pique the interest of those with the correct aptitudes. Otherwise—" The reverend held up his hands in a gesture of futility.
"Yeah. Okay, I get it." _Which doesn't make it any better, though. The sooner the town knows, the sooner informers hear. That's just the way of the world. So our secret international radio advantage isn't going to be secret for very long._
They had arrived at the eastern edge of the tent city where an intermittent arc of shallow ditches had been scraped out of the sandy soil. Bamboo spikes lined their outer berm like irregular, narrow fangs. "Expecting trouble?" Mike asked Polhemius.
The reverend shrugged. "We are in the Caribbees, mijn heer McCarthy. It is always prudent to expect trouble. I remind you that many of the Caribs whom Warner and the Frenchman d'Esnambuc drove from St. Christopher's less than ten years ago still consider these islands rightfully theirs and would be happy for any opportunity to reassert that claim. In the bloodiest possible fashion. The brutes."
McCarthy managed to stifle his impulse to point out the reverend's rather profound double standard regarding barbarous behavior. In his world-view, it was apparently acceptable for white settlers to dispossess the natives of their own land via massacre, but it was "brutish" for those same natives to consider reversing the situation with identical methods. He also suppressed verbalizing his less arch curiosity regarding how the reverend would feel in the natives' place, about being on the losing end of the stick with which the Europeans had beaten the prime lesson of all colonialism into the Caribs' heads: that might makes right, not uncounted generations of habitation and ownership. Of course, it could also be averred that, in the case of the Caribs, it was simply a matter of what goes around, comes around. According to the history books, the Caribs had been the local colonizers less than half a millennium ago, driving the comparatively peaceful Taino out of the Windward and then Leeward Isles in a slow but inexorable campaign of northward expansion-by-genocide. Not for the first time, Mike wondered if maybe that's all history was: a succession of bullies and thieves, each one dressing up their own conquests in veils of fancy rhetoric and moral speechifying.
Polhemius had signaled to eight young men lounging near the only permanent structure near the eastern skirts of Oranjestad: a shack fashioned from discarded planking and spar fragments. They rose, revealing a collection of stenciled crates behind them. "These are the fellows I was telling you about," he said by way of introduction as the group drew closer.
Mike scanned them and, by posture alone, identified the two who were coming along simply for the money and what they presumed would be light labor. While not so rude as to look obviously bored, they were not attentive, scanning the outskirts of the tent-city for objects of interest. First among which were young women, origins and status notwithstanding. Mike managed not to smile. _Okay, guys, I've had overgrown boys like you walk into my shop, looking for a job. Let's see if you're up for it, because I'd rather have two positions that still need to be filled rather than two positions filled by young punks who won't give me a solid day's work._ "You, and you. Yeah, you. Both of you. Have you worked on ships?"
After overcoming their surprise at being singled out, and gruffly, the two started explaining that they were not sailors, of course. But that they had lent a hand while aboard. Here and there. Not so much as to mean that they knew how to work on ships, but—
"That's enough," Mike interrupted brusquely. "So you've climbed masts, worked out on the ends of yards."
They both started babbling out further qualifying statements—
"I said that's enough. You two are lucky, because you get to start work without having to spend today learning about a bunch of dull radio components and wire-splicing, here in the shade. Instead, your job is to go to the eastern side of The Quill and survey its slopes for tall trees. Specifically, you are to locate and tag every tree that's at least thirty feet tall in the northeast quadrant of the slopes. Double tag any trees that have plump, straight trunks up to fifteen feet. There won't be many too close to the level ground, since the wind off the Atlantic pushes most of them over sideways. But as you get higher up, the jungle itself provides a partial windbreak, so you'll find more of them as you climb higher." Mike tossed a bag of white, ribbonlike rags at them. "There are your tags."
One of the pair simply looked at him, unspeaking. The other held the bag, looking helpless. "Hammer?" he asked. "Nails?"
"No nails," Mike announced with a single shake of his head. "Too scarce to use on something like this. And besides, we don't want to kill the same trees we're going to use to mount our antenna lines. Now, get moving. You've got a good walk ahead of you, and a lot of work when you get there."
"We're not going to learn about radios?" said the one who had been speechless. He sounded as if Father Christmas had put coal in his stocking.
"You are learning about radios," Mike said with a smile. "From the ground up. Literally. Now git." He turned to the other six young men.
Except that there were now seven men, and the seventh wasn't as young as the others. He was leaning in the now-open doorway of the shack. He nodded at Mike, a broad easy smile pasted on his big, blunt peasant features. But his eyes were bright and alert, and Mike immediately recalled similar faces from his thirty-five years working on cars and in other mechanical industries. This was the face of the guy all the bosses underestimated, the guy they pegged as being "slow," but who turned out to be the sharpest knife in the drawer, and the guy who not only got his own work done on the shop floor but managed to drag a small passel of prior slackers along with him into genuine productivity. Mike smiled back. "Hey old-timer," he said to the thirty-something fellow. "Glad you could join us."
The man laughed—a deep, easy rumble—and nodded. "Hah. _Ja_ , old-timer; that's me. Been a second-mate for almost ten years, now. About time I try something new. Maybe skill with radios will get me that overdue promotion to first mate. Or, if not, maybe I'll work for you, hey? Lots of sailors around, these days, but not many people who know radios."
Mike nodded. "True enough. I'm Mike—"
The man bowed a bit. "Oh, we know who you are, Mr. Michael McCarthy. We've been waiting for you to build this radio."
"'We?'"
The man scratched at his thick, and decidedly unruly, brown hair. " _Ja_. Me and the young fellows, here."
Mike nodded, beginning to understand. "So, you were responsible for choosing who was going to be on this job?" He glanced sideways at Polhemius, who nodded almost nervously.
"Yes," the reverend answered, "that is correct. Mr. Kortenaer expressed interest in your project and was also accustomed to dealing with lively young men, such as were needed."
McCarthy saw Kortenaer's eyes twinkle and he suppressed a new smile. _So, the good Reverend Polhemius isn't comfortable providing leadership to a bunch of young roughnecks. They probably don't pray and clean their fingernails often enough for his comfort. So he pulls an older version of them from before the mast to choose and baby-sit them. Which is just as well. Now I don't have to find a foreman, because I've already got one._ "Well, now that you've been kind enough to finish making all the introductions, Reverend Polhemius, I think I'm ready to get to work." Mike put out his hand. "Thanks so much, and I'm sure I'll see you soon again."
Polhemius, who was possibly aware that he was being politely but swiftly brushed off, shook hands while uttering a few abbreviated pleasantries and then strode back toward the western side of the town and his small wood-framed church. Mike watched him go. He turned to Kortenaer, who'd come to stand beside him. "So, if you're going to be my foreman"—the man's smile was as honest as it was sudden and broad—"I need to know your whole name. So I can know who I'm cussing at, you understand."
The answer rode atop a faint chuckle. "I am Egbert Bartholomeuszoon Kortenaer. 'Bert' for short. Now, how shall we start?"
Mike thought. "First we check the components and the wires, and make sure they all made the trip safely. If we're going to have any technical problems, I need to know right away."
"To send home for new parts?"
"Well, that eventually, but mostly to see if we can jury-rig something until then. We need this radio for local strategic coordination, including finding out what happened to a ship of ours."
"The other steamship?" Bert asked. Then, seeing the surprised look on Mike's face, added, "It cannot surprise you too much that we heard. Your crews drink with our crews, and try to impress the ladies of Oranjestad with their choicest rumors."
Mike shrugged. "Yeah. We should have heard from the other steamship, the _Courser_ , on our own ships' radios by now. Even if it was just some chopped up Morse code, we should have heard them trying to make contact."
"But all has been silence?"
"Yeah. For weeks, now. So I need to know if we're going to have any mechanical problems up front. In practical terms, that means I need your guys to open the crates carefully and unpack them carefully. One at a time. I don't want the components to touch the ground, so have them put on a table."
"No table. All our new wood goes into building and ship repair," Bert said with a shake of his head. "But—" He turned to the men and ordered them to uncrate a spool of wire first. "Put the wire on a canvas drop cloth. Then, break its crate apart—carefully. Keep each side intact."
"Why, Heer Kortenaer?" asked the very blond and very young one of the group.
"Because you're going to use those crate-sides to make tabletops. The bases will be wormed casks from the ships. I knew there'd be a reason to keep them, and here it is. Then, unload the contents of the next crate, the one with components, upon that table."
"And make another table out of that next crate?"
"There's a bright lad. Now get about it." He turned back to Mike. "What next, Heer McCarthy?"
"Next, you learn to call me Mike. After that, you tell me the most important thing any job-boss needs to know."
"And what is that, Mike?"
"Well, there's a saying that we don't fail because of what we don't know. We fail because of _things that we don't know we don't know._ Understand?"
Bert smiled. "I don't know. But at least I know that I don't know."
"That's the ticket. Now, what problems are lurking around that a dumb-ass up-timer like me has no clue about?"
Bert's smile faded. "It is not that you have no clue about them, Hee—er, Mike. It is that the clues, the signs, of the problems are being kept from you."
Mike repressed a sigh. He'd hoped that his fishing expedition for unseen troubles would be fruitless, but he'd also been sensible enough to know the odds of that were low. And that's just how it was playing out. "Okay, Bert, what local problems could get in the way of setting up the radio?"
As the six young Dutchmen started lifting spools of precious wire onto old canvas, Bert considered Mike's request with a deepening frown. "Well, you will find out quickly enough, I suspect, that not everyone in Oranjestad considers your arrival an event for celebration."
"Oh? Who have I managed to piss off, already?"
"No, no, I am not referring to your coming, personally, Mike. I mean the arrival of the Reconnaissance Flotilla and what it signifies."
"You mean, that the USE is getting involved in Dutch affairs?"
"Oh, not that so much. We're probably just about the most grateful Dutchmen in the world when it comes to receiving help from unexpected benefactors. No, it is about this agreement that has been reached with the Spanish Lowlands. There are some who just won't have it, no matter how beneficial it might be."
_Well,_ that _cat came out of the bag pretty quickly, too._ "Bert, do you have any idea just how the news of the oil deal and the Lowlands' participation already arrived in Oranjestad?"
Kortenaer shook his head. "No, but word of it was running up and down the tent-lines like a brush fire last night. I suspect someone who'd overheard discussions at Trinidad went on liberty from the _Crown of Waves_ or _Koninck David_ when you arrived just after sundown and offered to trade tales for grog . . . Well, you know how these things happen."
_Don't I just, though._ "And so who in Oranjestad has decided they'd rather stay at war with Fernando than get oil-rich?"
Bert shrugged. "The same settlers who came here wanting to grow tobacco, own slaves, and get away from Catholics. I mean no offense, Mike. These are their sentiments, not mine."
Mike nodded. "Understood. But aren't these settlers very much in the minority, here?"
"It is true they number but a few hundred of all who are here, but they are the ones who own most of the land, who were granted the charter to St. Eustatia. Although the soldiers and sailors and tradesmen are almost ninety percent of the population, they haven't the money, the possessions, or the backing of the Dutch West India company."
"Well, from what I hear, the Nineteen Heeren who call the shots of the Company were pretty enthusiastic about the oil trade when Prince Hendrik shared word of it with them a few months ago. Everyone in the New World is trying to grow tobacco and sugar, but right now, we've got the monopoly on oil, and it's worth far more, pound for pound. And it requires far less labor, cheap or otherwise. So the representatives of the Dutch West India Company were very vocal supporters of the oil co-dominium from the start."
"Well," said Bert thoughtfully, "that is good news, and that is bad news."
"And that is as cryptic a sentence as I've heard you speak, Bert. What's it mean?"
"It means that, in the long run, the Company will get what it wants, which is also what makes most sense. But the bad news is that I know these men on St. Eustatia, and their friends and sons who are now working leased plots on St. Christopher. They are almost all staunch Calvinists of the most orthodox type, men who will not abide Catholics. And they will not want to be made less powerful, less important, by the development of oil on another island." He toed the dirt irritably. "Understand, Mike. These are men who _like_ owning slaves, who feel powerful commanding them to work in the fields, and commanding the women to—well, you know."
Mike found that he was grinding his teeth. "Oh, I know, Bert, I know. And I guess they know I'm dead set against letting that kind of shit start here, all over again."
Bert started at Mike's tone more than his words. "I—I do not know if they know your personal feelings about slavery, Mike. But it has been made clear, from what little we have heard about the up-timers, that despite your diverse faiths and beliefs, you all hate slavery. I suspect they will not be surprised to find an enemy in you, Mike."
Mike could feel the better half of his nature ready to drop the tasks and tools of setting up an intercontinental radio. Instead, he discovered that he was already thinking of the ways in which he could take the fight to the bastards who got a thrill out of raping slave women while their two-year-olds hid under the bed, eyes wide at the brutality, terror, and humiliation of the violation taking place only a foot over their heads. But he scooped up that rage, crammed it forcefully into a mental vault and reluctantly sealed it, promising the growing fury within, _you've got to wait a bit. Just a bit. First we build a radio. Then we get lots of ships and guns over here. And then . . . Oh, and then—_
"Mike, are you quite well?"
"Me? Never better, Bert. I love having something to work toward, and you've just given me another very fine purpose to get this radio up and running as quickly as possible. About which: as soon as we've finished identifying the trees we're going to use, we'll need to get a much bigger work crew together to affix the wires to run down and outward from The Quill's cone in rays spreading toward the northeast. So here's what I want to know: is it any more expensive to, well, lease a slave or bondsman from one of the landowners than it is to hire one of these soldiers or sailors?"
Bert frowned. "It is not so much a matter of cost. It is that the slaves and bondsmen can be made to do work that none of the colonists will agree to do. Working in cane fields is hard. Very hard."
Mike nodded. "I know. But I've heard rumors that right now, the landowners aren't making as much from their cane crops as they'd like. They don't have any way to ship it back to Europe, yet, and they can only use it as a barter good, here in the Caribbees. So wouldn't it be profitable for them to lease out slave labor for silver?"
Bert shrugged. "Yes, but why should you do so? We have many soldiers who can help us as part of their military orders, working in shifts."
"True. But we'll get them on short, rotating assignments, I'm told. But if we have a large core of steady workers—such as leased slaves—they'll quickly get a higher level of expertise at the job. And then rotating laborers from the military becomes more effective more rapidly."
Bert's smile crept back on his face. "But that's not the only reason, is it, Mike? You want to speak to the slaves, away from their masters, don't you? Before their masters come to realize how you feel about slavery?"
Mike smiled back. "That obvious, huh? But yeah, that's just what I mean to do. Maybe we can get a few hired over from St. Christopher's, as well."
Bert's smile faded. "I think you mean to do a good thing, Mike, but I'm worried it could hurt the very people you mean to help. I counsel you to consider this: let us say you move the slaves to assert themselves. And so they refuse to work. Whatever else may happen, we will all starve. So perhaps, at first, you could simply work in the same direction as Tromp and van Walbeeck."
"Which means what?"
"They are trying to get the slaves converted into bondsmen. I know, I know: there is still great inequity in being a bondsman. But any more rapid transition will destroy the colony. On the other hand, if this colony becomes a place where outright slavery ceases to exist, then escapees from the Spanish colonies, and those of other nations, will flock here. They will come for the same reason we did: to have a chance, no matter how distant and uncertain, to live a better life than the one we knew at home."
"And how is the life of a bondsman that much better than that of a slave?"
"It is, if it follows the model that Tromp and van Walbeeck are trying to get the councilors to accept. In which the slaves and current bondsmen shall all earn their complete freedom with five years of bonded work."
"And then what, Bert? Without any possessions, without any land of their own, they'll be desperate. They'll have no options, no means of providing for their own needs. Which means they'll massacre us to take what they must, or we'll massacre them to keep it."
"Or," temporized Bert calmly, "like peasants have since the beginning of time, they will continue to work the same land, but now will keep a share of what they grow. And that shall be the beginning of their wealth."
Mike started. Bert was of course not aware of it, but in suggesting serfdom, he was rebirthing the basic principles of sharecropping, and Mike knew full well the abuses to which that grim institution was subject. But, on the other hand, it was a hell of a lot better than slavery, and was probably the most progressive policy that the local freemen would accept. With the great majority of them being tradition-minded political moderates, they would reflexively reject an immediate conferral of full equality. But this was a middle course they could probably get behind. Meaning that this was probably the shape of the near future. The hard-liners wouldn't like it one bit, but wouldn't be able to get enough support from fence-sitters to keep their slaves from becoming bondsmen. At best, they'd be able to haggle about the details of the agreement.
Mike looked at Bert, looked at the second crate of radio components being delicately unloaded, looked up at the slopes of The Quill, and conceded that, in this New World, the challenges were never simple, the solutions never perfect, and the need for flexibility never-ending. "Okay," he muttered. "We'll take the gradualist approach. Now, which landowners are hurting enough financially to rent us some well-spoken and charismatic slaves?"
**_Chaguamara Peninsula, Trinidad_**
Even after the partition separating Eddie's cabin from the _Intrepid_ 's wardroom had been removed, the space around the chart-table still felt crowded. Pros Mund was next to the map-table with his executive officer, Haakon. Immediately across from them was Tromp, who had brought his own first mate, a bright young fellow named Evertsen. And of course both Gjedde and Bjelke were there from _Intrepid_. Arrayed back in a second rank along the walls were Simonszoon, von Holst, and van Galen and the pilots of their ships, who'd need at least as good an awareness of the situation and planned maneuver as the captains themselves.
A pewter pitcher of water made its way slowly around the circle of men, several of whom muttered about preferring grog, and one who wondered, aloud, if there was any food to be had. Eddie wondered if he should get an orderly to meet those needs, but found Gjedde glancing at him. The old Norwegian shook his head faintly and returned his attention to the map.
That, Eddie allowed with an imaginary slap to his own face, was a prompt he shouldn't have needed. It had been unnerving, learning that the final commanders' conference was to be on his—well, Gjedde's—ship, but that didn't mean he had to worry about catering the event. It was a working gathering, not a social occasion. The captains should certainly have been able to feed themselves before they traveled to the _Intrepid_ in their individual skiffs.
And it wasn't as if meeting on the _Intrepid_ was any kind of unusual honor. The decision had been based solely on the consideration that it was the one location that could not offend or call into question the comparative status any of the senior officers. It was a lot of rubbish, Eddie thought, but the same kind of seniority and rank issues had persisted down through to the up-time navy of his own nation, so he really shouldn't have expected any different, or any better, here.
Tromp was, by any reasonable measure, the senior commander, and brought the greatest number of ships to the fleet that was currently raising its anchors from the twelve-fathom depths of northwest Trinidad's Scotland Bay. However, Pros Mund was senior among the USE commanders, and although only two ships of his flotilla were present, the _Intrepid_ and the _Resolve_ , they were arguably far more powerful than all the Dutch ships combined. This was further complicated by the ticklish fact that the most knowledgeable person about the details of how the new cooperative oil ventures between the Provinces and the USE did or did not influence military cooperation in the protection of those ventures was none other than Eddie himself. Eddie calculated that, in anything like a chain of command, he was probably somewhere about fifth or sixth, with Gjedde, Simonszoon, and the _Tropic Surveyor_ 's Stiernsköld coming after the uncertain Tromp-Mund dyad.
In short, notions of seniority were completely scrambled and everyone knew it. But they were also too polite to say anything for fear of starting a disagreement that might result in an inability to pursue a coherent response to the Spanish threat that had finally arrived this morning. And no one had to dance more carefully than Eddie. On the one hand, he had to be careful not to step on any superior-ranking toes; but, on the other, was the only person who really understood the technological opportunities—and also, limitations—of the up-time designed steamships that were the lynchpin of their plans.
Happily, Tromp had proven to be a calm, almost ego-less commander whose quiet graciousness had become familiar to Eddie over the course of several shared dinners on both the _Amelia_ and the _Intrepid_. And if Pros Mund was, by comparison, standoffish and cheerless, he was patient and prudent enough to realize that Tromp had to insist upon equal command dignities. The Danish admiral certainly cared more about the quality of their plans and leadership than any folderol about seniority and rank, but it was also true that he had to protect his staff, to ensure that his captains were not made to answer to a commander they had never met, let alone (in most cases) heard of. Consequently, Eddie had led both admirals toward a strategy that made a virtue out of being allies whose relationship was as new and unspecified as their chain of command was undetermined.
Eddie pointed to the map, which illustrated yet another reason why this final council of war had been called aboard the _Intrepid_. Not only was it "neutral ground" in that it was not on either Tromp's or Mund's respective flagships, but it put the best up-time maps, clocks, and drafting equipment at the disposal of the entire command staff. Resting his finger next to a red pin stuck fifteen miles northwest of the island of Grenada, Eddie looked around the room. "So this is where the Spanish were when the first sighting was made by our balloon, land-moored at Prickly Point on Grenada, one hour ago. Since then, twenty-six ships have been spotted, of which five are _patache_ s. Their main van was making about two knots."
Simonszoon frowned. "Then they're not taking full advantage of the leeward breeze. I saw the morning weather reports from your radiomen who are with the balloon's ground team: almost fourteen knots south by southwest. Perfect for the Spanish square-riggers, coming just one point off their port quarter. Even their high-hulled scows should be able to make four knots with that God-given breeze."
Eddie nodded. "That's right, but they've got the _patache_ s out in front of them, looking for any forces we might have in the region. That means their main body has to slow down, let their fore-and-aft-rigged scouts run ahead and around, come close enough to send signals, then work their way out again."
Tromp nodded. "That is good in that it gives us more time, which we will want since we have to tack to windward to meet them. But it is not good insofar as it suggests that the Spanish are being cautious, rather than rushing in hastily."
Mund shrugged. "So we will need to follow what Commander Cantrell calls plan Beta. We will need to conceal our true intents longer, which will require more careful coordination as we approach the Spaniards."
Simonszoon rested his finger at the southern tip of Grenada. "It also means we shall need regular reports from your balloon, here. They will be able to keep the Spanish under observation as we maneuver to make contact with them in the place and in the formation we have decided upon. The balloon will need to keep us updated so that we may adjust to any course or formation changes _they_ might make."
Eddie smiled. He liked working with Dirck Simonszoon, whose laconic wit was a screen behind which he hid an agile and incisive tactical mind. More than any of the down-timers he'd met thus far, Simonszoon appreciated how the adroit use of balloons and radios made it possible to both deceive an approaching foe and maneuver for advantage. That was why it was his ship, the comparatively fleet-footed forty-four-gun _Achilles_ , that was to be towed by the flotilla's one available steam pinnace to keep up with the _Resolve_ and _Intrepid_. Once the allied fleet came in sight of the Spanish, these three ships would push forward as a flying wing stretching north from the eastern flank of Tromp's main body of Dutch ships. "That's absolutely correct, Dirck. We need those airborne eyes as we close to contact. Which is why I've already ordered the balloon to land, for now."
Simonszoon frowned, then nodded. "Yes, because of their limited ability to keep heating the air in the envelope."
"That, and because as the Spanish get close to rounding Grenada, which we guess will be happening in about four hours, they'd be far more likely to spot our balloon. If it was still up in the sky, that is. Two hours after they draw past Grenada, we'll send it aloft again. They'll be less likely to spot it astern to the north when all their lookouts are concentrating on finding us to the south, east, and west."
Von Holst sounded concerned. "But during those six hours when the balloon is on the ground, how shall we know if they change course?"
It was Tromp who pointed almost fifty miles northwest of their position in Scotland Bay. "Because Gijszoon is out there, with the yacht __Kater__ and his own balloon."
"What?" van Galen almost shouted. "You told us he was—!"
"I said nothing specific about his whereabouts, merely that he was on patrol. Which he was, working from out beyond the north tip of the Paria peninsula. He's been sheltering in the Cove of Palmar behind Punta Mejillores and then patrolling approximately thirty-five miles north. With the balloon we gave him, that allowed him to spot either a Spanish fleet coming from the Greater Antilles directly across the open waters of the Caribbean, or for the Cartagena fleet to the west. And as he had a reaching wind both coming out of and going back to his anchorage, he had great flexibility of movement.
"As for the Spanish who have now appeared, they will not see him at his patrol point unless they change course to the southwest or west. But Gijszoon will see that change first and let us know."
"So if we receive no radio signals from Gijszoon, we know that they are still rounding Grenada and heading in their last known direction," von Holst concluded with a nod.
Van Galen was frowning, though. "Unless they decide to turn around and run home, head back up the Leeward side of the Lesser Antilles."
Mund frowned at van Galen's frown. "Yes, but this would not concern us. If the Spanish turn back, the wind will be in their faces. They'll either be in irons, or sailing very close-hauled. And being close-hauled on those big square-rigged galleons, they would be lucky to make headway faster than one knot. Within ten hours we would know that they had turned about, and we would be upon them in two days, at the most."
"Yes, but only your two steam ships could catch them so quickly," van Galen protested doggedly. "And how do we know your ships are as powerful as he claims—" a head jerked insolently in Eddie's direction—"or that you won't take all the spoils?"
"First," Mund answered with slow, crisp syllables, "Commander Cantrell is not the only one who has seen or been aboard these steamships when they are in action. Consequently, you have my personal assurance that he has not, in the slightest particular, exaggerated their capabilities. Second, it is utterly illogical that we would or could 'take all the spoils,' as you put it, Captain van Galen. If by spoils you mean gold or silver, then you are here fighting the wrong battle, both because treasure is not our objective, and because these are not treasure ships. If, on the other hand, you are calling the ships themselves the 'spoils,' consider the complements of my flotilla. I might be able to crew a captured galleon or two as prize hulls, but not all of them. There would be 'spoils' enough for all, in that event."
Tromp turned a slightly testy eye upon van Galen, and asked quietly, "Does this answer your concerns, Johan?"
The Dutch captain glowered at the map and folded his arms. "Yes. For now."
Tromp turned to Eddie. "So this means we will not have _Kater_ and Gijszoon rendezvousing with us?"
Eddie crinkled his mouth apologetically. "It's not likely, Admiral. If our guesses are right, we'll be meeting the Spanish only a few hours before dusk, about eleven hours from now. But it will be six hours until we are certain that the Spanish are doing what we expect: to crowd sail once they enter the Grenada Passage and try to slip into the Gulf of Paria via the Dragon's Mouth just after nightfall. That means _Kater_ would have only five hours to sail into the eye of the wind and cover almost thirty miles to reach your van. I know that Joachim Gijszoon is a fine sailor, but—"
"But he will not make six knots an hour if he must constantly be tacking through a wind from the northeast. And finding a steady heading in the Grenada Passage can be tricky, particularly right where the Leeward breeze meets the prevailing westward wind that blows along Tierra Firma." Tromp shook his head. "You are right, Eddie, we may not count on Gijszoon's ship. Which means my van will have no jachts."
"Which leads me to ask," von Holst asked, "where is Pieter Floriszoon, the __Eendracht__ , and those Irish Wild Geese?"
Tromp shrugged. "Probably tacking against that same westward wind. They could have been here, at the very earliest, a few days ago. They could easily be another week in reaching us. Either way, the Spanish are here now, so we should move with all haste. Are there any other changes to plan Beta?" His glance started on Pros Mund, bounced to Eddie—and stayed there.
Eddie shook his head. "No, Admiral. Just remember that no matter what the Spanish do when they come at your van, keep your hulls in formation, and be the first to show the world what well-gunned ships can do when engaging the enemy in a line. Just like you did in my world."
"So you tell me. In your up-time world, I introduced this tactic in 1640, yes?"
"Correct, sir. At the Battle of the Downs. Which will now never happen. Here, they'll say that the first use of the naval 'line of battle' doctrine was in 1635 at the Battle of Grenada Passage."
"Yes. Assuming we win it," added Gjedde darkly as he glanced out the portside window into a sudden shaft of bright yellow light. He rose, his slate-on-granite voice already rising into cries to unreef the sails and ready the commanders' skiffs.
With the sun now fully up, the time had come for the fleet to get under way.
**_Grenada Passage, Caribbean Sea_**
By two PM, Eddie no longer needed the radio relays from the balloon at Prickly Point to tell him where the Spanish were. He could see them himself.
And evidently, vice versa. The lighter _patache_ s had already begun angling off to the flanks of the Spanish van, which had altered course perhaps one point in a more southerly direction, making straight for the seven Dutch sails they first saw there. When, a quarter of an hour later, they evidently saw the other three sails of the second group of ships following perhaps a mile behind the main van, their _patache_ s began coming forward more aggressively, no doubt in an attempt to get a better look at what this second formation might be. But the main body made no further course change.
And, Eddie allowed, why would it have? From the initial Spanish perspective, their fleet was facing seven Dutch ships that had fewer guns, but were better sailors. But with twenty-one galleons or smaller galleoncetes, they outnumbered the Dutch three to one in large ships, and had the wind right where they wanted it: running fresh and steady over their port quarter. If anything, the Spanish might wonder why the Dutch were willing to maneuver toward contact under such unfavorable conditions. But they would reasonably conjecture that, given their intrusion near Pitch Lake, the Dutch were desperate to keep the Spanish ships from reaching the Dragon's Mouth, and thereby entering the Gulf of Paria. Because once there, the Spanish were too numerous for the smaller Dutch fleet to contain. While the galleons kept the Dutch ships occupied, a squadron of the smaller galleoncetes could easily break off and disrupt or destroy their incursion upon Trinidadian soil. And so, the defiance of the Spanish _inter caetera_ would be at an end.
But now the time had come to change the playing board in a way that the Spanish could not anticipate, and, more importantly, would not strategically understand. Not this first time, anyway, Eddie reminded himself. He turned toward Ove Gjedde, who was already looking at him. "With your permission, sir."
"Commander Cantrell, you have the con. I will mind the sails. As usual."
"Very good, sir. I say three times, I have the con. Now, a question, sir: can you get me six knots by canvas alone in this breeze?"
Gjedde looked at Eddie as if the up-timer had insulted him. "You know very well that I can, Mr. Cantrell."
"Then, as soon as we've got the steam-pinnace fired up, I'll be asking you for those six knots." He turned away, raised his voice. "Mr. Svantner?"
"Sir?"
"Ring down to the engine room. Ready the bitumen-treated wood for the burner. No coal yet, but they are to keep it handy."
"Just warming the boiler, sir?"
"Precisely. Mr. Bjelke?"
From Eddie's left elbow, Rik's voice was tense and slightly higher-pitched than usual. "Sir?"
"Send by semaphore to the pinnace towing _Achilles_ that she is to make full steam as soon as possible and fall in behind us. She is to alert us at once if she cannot sustain six knots. Helmsman?"
"Yes, Capt—Commander Cantrell?"
"You'll be following the wind as Captain Gjedde tells you, but bring our heading due north."
"Sir, that will have us angling away from Admiral Tromp's ships."
"It will, Helmsman," Eddie affirmed with a smile. "It will indeed."
Lieutenant Admiral Fadrique Álvarez de Toledo y Mendoza glanced sideways while Captain General of the Armada Jorge de Cárdenas y Manrique de Lara's attention was upon the latest report from the crow's nest. And Fadrique wondered, _how did it ever come to this_?
Honored just last January by Philip IV, he had then been dismissed in near-disgrace mere months later by Olivares for being too popular at court and also too outspoken about the danger to the viceroyalties of the New World. Happily, the need for capable admirals in the field was greater than the power of Olivares' displeasure in court. September brought news that he had been reappointed to a military command, largely thanks to his brother who commanded the galleys of the Mediterranean. Taking leave of his wife and children to oversee the re-expansion of the Armada de Barlovento, he quit his villa just ahead of the diphtheria outbreak that, he learned shortly after, had claimed him in the "up-time" world of the heathen Americans.
However, that good luck did not follow him to the New World. Upon arriving, he discovered that the Armada de Barlovento, shrunken to three or four worm-eaten hulls, had disappeared and evidently no longer existed. Worse yet, in reply to the governor of Cuba's plea for an overall naval commander to coordinate activities in the Caribbean, such as finding and eliminating the resurgent fleet of the blasted Dutchman Tromp, Olivares' advisory council, the _Junta de Guerra de Indias_ sent none other than the largely ineffective de Cárdenas y Manrique de Lara to do the job. _It should have been_ me _they chose to hunt down the Dutch, damn them._ Me! _I've won more battles against them than Jorge has ever fought._ But of course, Fadrique knew precisely why he had been made merely the commander of the decrepit (and now extinct) Armada de Barlovento and why de Cárdenas y Manrique de Lara had been placed over all naval matters in the New World: favor at court.
Jorge wasn't particularly gifted overseeing naval operations, but he was an inspired navigator of the ebbs and flows of the prevailing tides of popularity in Madrid. And so here he was, four years Fadrique's junior, and not even vaguely his peer in matters military, but still in charge of the largest single offensive reprisal that Spain had mounted in the Caribbean in years. It was possibly the largest since Fadrique's own successes in driving the English and French from their settlements in St. Christopher's and Nevis only six years earlier. But the brazen violators of His Imperial Majesty's exclusive right to settlements west of the Tordesilla line had returned as soon as Fadrique's galleons had disappeared over the horizon. Just as Fadrique had said they would. And just as he had warned Olivares— _the whoreson!_ —the same thing had occurred in similarly isolated possessions throughout the Caribbean. Chasing and imprisoning violators was not enough. Deporting them to mines or fields in Cuba or Tierra Firma was not enough. Nor even was extermination. Only by settling and holding the land itself could the Spanish Crown be sure that godless trespassers would not sneak in to usurp it. And of course Olivares had not wanted such talk bruited about, because that level of commitment, that strategy of certain success, also cost more money. Or it meant giving the viceroys and governors of the New World increased authority to raise their own navies and armies, which meant, once again, pulling some measure of power out of Olivares' grasping hands. And that was simply not going to happen, not until some crisis forced that simpering bootlicker to take action.
"Well, Fadrique," de Cárdenas y Manrique de Lara mused, "the reports are confirmed. Two large ships to the east of the Dutch van are now advancing well north of their line. A third is following them. That one may be afire, since it is putting out some smoke."
It was no less than de Toledo has seen through his own spyglass. "That smoke makes little sense. There was no sound of a prior battle as we approached."
"Perhaps they are still recuperating after an earlier encounter with our fleet from Cartagena. That would explain both the smoke of the one ship, and their diminished numbers. This is certainly far fewer ships than Tromp was said to have at Recife."
Fadrique kept any hint of impatience out of his reply. "Perhaps. But none of our _patache_ s have located the _patache_ -pickets of the Cartagena fleet, Captain-General, not even those which we sent down here so that they might watch for their arrival and report back. Also, the Dutch numbers may not signify prior losses, but current caution. If Tromp is still in the Caribbean, he has been here for better than a year. If seems certain he must have a base somewhere, possibly Curaçao. If so, he must leave much of his fleet behind to protect that base."
De Cárdenas y Manrique de Lara flipped a dismissing wrist at the objections. "Well, then, the smoke could signify a fire-ship. The Dutch are outnumbered and may hope to scatter us, lest we gather too tightly upon any of their number."
De Toledo nodded, answered, "Perhaps," and thought, _Are you mad, or simply stupid?_ Fadrique continued carefully. "However, a fire ship puts out more smoke, and blacker. And it is best used in a bay or channel, where maneuver is limited or difficult." _Besides, you ass-kisser, you can see through your own glass that the smoking ship is fully and handsomely rigged, and therefore, well-crewed. Fireships are manned by skeleton crews so they may be abandoned at the last second, in haste._
De Cárdenas y Manrique de Lara merely pouted. "You may be right, Don Álvarez, but I shall suspend judgment. In the meantime, why do you think these two great ships—built along _fragata_ lines, no less—are coming out in front and to the flank of the main Dutch body?"
Álvarez de Toledo shrugged. "The wind is from the northeast. They are to our east, heading north. They hope to get the weather-gauge on us. And, making better than five knots, they are likely to accomplish that."
"But to what end, Fadrique? They are but three ships, and one is burning. And see, the large ones have few ports for cannon. Not even sixteen on the port side that we can see." He rapped the rail along the port quarter decisively. "They must be large merchants, some new kind of argosy, trying to slip past us rather than try cases against our twenty-six-gun broadsides!"
"'Slip past us'?" echoed Fadrique. "How? If they get the weather gauge, they must sail to the west— _toward us_ —unless they wish to find themselves tacking in baffling winds, or even caught in irons."
"And so they may, Fadrique. Really, I am surprised you do not perceive their ploy. They shall try to outsail us, to get north of our van. Meanwhile, the regular Dutch ships will slow down, baiting us to use our following wind to descend upon them. I suspect they will turn their tails and run to the Dragon's Mouth, then. And when we crowd even more sail to catch them, these great argosies shall come about to put the wind over their starboard beams and run westward, hugging close against Grenada and escaping behind us."
Fadrique nodded. "I hadn't thought of that." That was because it was the most absurd collection of inanities he'd ever heard. Whatever these large ships were, they were not "argosies." Their hulls were too long and narrow to be effective cargo ships. Besides, their rigging was different and their lines were—strange. And why would they be taking a burning, but apparently conventional, ship with them? Something was not right here . . .
"Well, Fadrique, whatever these large ships are, and whatever their intents, we have all the speed, and all the hulls, we need to ruin their strategy."
"Certainly, sir. However, I—"
But before de Toledo could offer his tactical counsel, de Cárdenas y Manrique de Lara was declaiming his own. "So then, you shall give the Dutch what they want. You shall take half our ships and strike south at the Dutch van. I suspect they will not give you battle, but if they do, press close and smash them, Fadrique. Seize any that you may, but I am not overly concerned with prizes. I want these Dutch interlopers swept from the waves, and if that necessitates blasting them into driftwood rather than risking a boarding, so be it.
"Meanwhile, I shall take the other half of our ships due east to cut off the three fleeing ships. I shall send the _patache_ s slightly northward, to deny them any chance of working around to the leeward side of Grenada. And the rest of our ships will bring cannon to bear against the argosies, which may well be too large to sink quickly. But that will be acceptable. I have a powerful curiosity to see what special cargoes they must be carrying, to abandon their own fleet in so desperate a fashion."
De Toledo was glad to wait through de Cárdenas y Manrique de Lara's lecture of the day's intended tactics. It gave him a few extra moments to distance himself from the absurdity of his commanding officer's assessments and plans. "Captain-General de Cárdenas y Manrique de Lara, are you certain that splitting our forces is wise? The large ships are unusually fast, and it is entirely possible that they might turn toward us, and—"
"And what, Fadrique? Challenge our twenty-six-gun broadsides with their fourteen-gun impotence? Will they hope to swarm us, board us, being outnumbered better than four to one? They mean to flee, Fadrique, of that much you may be sure. And you may also be sure of this: I shall stop them. Now, return to your ship at once. We are drawing close enough to ready the guns, and you must lead your half of this fleet south against the Dutch." And with that, Captain-General Jorge de Cárdenas y Manrique de Lara turned away from his subordinate, signaling that their conversation was over.
**_Grenada Passage, Caribbean Sea_**
At one-mile range, and with the sun starting down toward the horizon, Eddie turned to Svantner to confirm—one more time—the weather conditions he'd been watching so closely. "Mr. Svantner, wind, currents, and sea?"
Svantner didn't even have to inquire. He'd arranged runners to give him updates every two minutes. "Sir, wind is running in from the east-northeast at a steady twelve knots. That is only one point off the direction of the current. Seas are reasonably calm: one-foot waves, sometimes one and a quarter, sir. Conditions remain steady, wind shifting only a point or so from the prevailing direction."
Eddie nodded. He called down to the intraship comm officer beneath his collapsible "flying bridge." "Range and bearing of the enemy's lead ship?"
"Mount One is calling it 1600 yards to the lead packet—er, _patache_ —sir, bearing 285 degrees. About 1900 yards to the first galleon behind her, bearing directly abeam at 270 degrees."
Eddie nodded, as much to himself as to the men around him. "Right." He looked up at the _Intrepid_ 's funnel. For the last ten minutes, a thin, whitish smoke had been rising out of it. "Rik, have they warmed up the engines and boilers?"
"Yes, sir. They've used about half the wood."
"Tell them to shift to coal. Captain Gjedde, we'll be moving to steam as soon as our boilers are up to pressure. Tell the men aloft to expect her to get lively."
"They are ready, Commander Cantrell."
_They ought to be, given how often we've briefed them._ "Radioman, instruct the _Achilles_ that she is to signal the pinnace to cut her loose and sheer off." Over the muted "Aye, sir," from below the deck, Eddie asked, "Rik? Do I have steam enough for ten knots?"
"The chief engineer says you do, Commander."
"Then ahead three-quarters." _And let's give those Spaniards something to gawk at._
While still more than a mile away from the Dutch ships, Fadrique de Toledo was distracted by a cry from the lookout in the mizzen's crow's nest. He turned and saw a single gout of smoke coming up from the center of each of the big ships as they started drawing northward at an almost inconceivable rate—and sailing broad-hauled, at best.
And then he understood what he was seeing, and what the smoke had to signify. He had heard reports of the American armored river ships that had destroyed the Danish fleet last year. And had heard rumors that the up-timers were building ocean-going craft with the same motive power—steam—somewhere on the Baltic. Luebeck, probably. He had discounted those rumors as just more of the fear-mongering that surrounded the up-timers, who, if you were to listen to half the tales, could achieve any technological marvel they chose give a few weeks and a few tons of steel.
But these had to be those ships. Logically, their steam power was the source of both the smoke and their sudden burst of speed, which was even now making paltry nonsense of Jorge de Cárdenas y Manrique de Lara's attempt to cut them off. The up-time ships had already raced well north of his lumbering galleons, and were already starting to turn westward into a broad reach with the wind slightly abaft the beam: the very fastest position for ships with such uncommonly maneuverable and versatile rigging and spars. Although the range was too great for Fadrique to be sure, the ships' great speed actually seemed to make them more stable, cutting through the almost imperceptible swells with the ease and speed of a razor-sharp hand-plane cutting smooth the edge of a slightly frayed plank.
"Sir!" called the first mate of Álvarez's ship, the _Nuestra Señora de los Reyes_ , "The chief gunners wish to know how to position their pieces. At what range do you plan to come about to commence firing upon the Dutch ships?"
Staring through his spyglass, de Toledo responded, "I shall know the answer to that question in ten minutes time, Roderigo." _Because what happens next to the north—to our_ rear _—will decide what I do about the enemies in front of me . . ._
"Eight hundred yards to the first Spaniard," cried the intraship comm rating from beneath Eddie's feet.
"Very good." Eddie glanced at _Resolve_ , about nine hundred yards off the starboard beam and trailing by perhaps one hundred yards. Which was according to plan. Although Pros Mund was clear about his precedence in the chain of command, he was quite content to let his young up-time commander establish the pace of operations, set an example by acting first, and arguably, become a likely scapegoat if things did not go as planned.
But judging from the way the Spanish were reacting, it seemed that those plans were unfolding as envisioned. They were heading straight at the _Intrepid_ and _Resolve_ in a kind of elongated pack, the five heaviest galleons clumped relatively close to the rear of their van, three slightly lighter ones arrayed in a more open formation to the front. Tactically, it was a reasonable enough arrangement. Notionally, the three lighter ships were to constrain the maneuver of the two up-time cruisers, and ultimately pin them in place by engaging them. That would give the big galleons enough time to approach and gang up on the two ships in whatever fashion seemed most advantageous, surrounding them and battering them beneath the waves or into submission at murderously close range.
Eddie lowered his binoculars and watched the high-pooped Spanish ships persist in lumbering toward him in a close-reach, even though they had lost the weather gauge. And again, why wouldn't they, given their presumedly decisive superiority in guns and numbers? It was typical of battles in the decades before the advent of line-tactics. Ships more or less headed towards each other in much the same way that opposing rugby teams formed a scrum. They rushed together, usually trying to achieve some initial positional advantage that was quickly forgotten as the battle became the maritime equivalent of a dog-piling brawl. If the speed and responsiveness of the contending ships were more or less equal, it was typical that neither managed to attain the upper hand. What resulted resembled, to Eddie's sensibilities, a demolition derby where the contestants had big cannons and attempted to board, rather than ram, each other. However, the devolution into this boxing-match in a broom closet was not a consequence of choice, so much as it reflected a kind of grim necessity. In addition to the difficulty of maintaining control over widely arrayed fleets, it was also unusual for ships to attempt to fire their broadside armament beyond two hundred yards because of both the poor accuracy and drastic reduction in striking power of balls fired at those ranges. Besides, trained gunnery crews were fortunate to get one shot off every two minutes, in part because the guns were so irregular and cumbersome, and in part because the use of bagged powder was, for reasons both traditional and technical, not much practiced yet. So wise captains of the 1630's tended to hold their fire until the ships were "at pistol shot"—meaning one hundred yards, give or take—before they really began firing in earnest.
And even so, despite what seemed the murderously close range and immense cannons of those exchanges, most combats between ships were ultimately decided by musketry and boarding actions. Comparatively few vessels sank outright during battle, although many were so badly battered that they had to be scuttled. Too unreliable because of the damage to both their hulls and spars, heavily damaged vessels were frequently more impediments than they were prizes. Unable to keep up with the truly functional ships, and likely to capsize in even moderately high seas, many a riddled hull was finally surrendered to the sea bottom by those who had taken her at no small cost in powder and blood.
And here were the Spanish, following all the best practices of their day. Which was not in itself scorn-worthy. Even if their galleons were considerably smaller than the two up-time cruisers, they were far more numerous, sported far more and bigger guns, and could still effect boarding actions, given the great height of their poop decks, which the Spanish still conceived as "war-towers."
The only thing that bemused Eddie was that, despite the sudden and unprecedented burst of speed displayed by the two USE cruisers, the Spanish had not changed their formation. Perhaps they were still trying to decide what to do, or perhaps, given how unfavorable the wind was now, they simply intended to keep making whatever headway they could, with the intent of coming about to deliver a broadside once the big enemy ships got close enough.
But that was not going to happen today. Nor was Eddie going to steam into the middle of the Spanish van to invite the accretion of yet another maritime scrum. He leaned toward the speaking tube that led down to engineering. "More steam, please. Comm rating?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Signal _Resolve_ that we are commencing evolution Delta. Report when they reply and comply."
"Yes, sir!"
"Mr. Svantner?"
"Aye, sir?"
"Bring us two points to port, and ahead three-quarters."
The intership radioman called up from below. "Sir? Admiral Mund has received, understood, and is carrying out evolution Delta."
"Excellent. Rik?"
"Sir?"
"Instruct Mount One to bear upon the second Spaniard, the more southerly one. I want a firing solution within the minute."
"The southerly one, sir?"
"Yes. Of the two, she's at longer range and we're turning to cross her at an angle. Mund will be doing the same to the northern, closer Spaniard. I want him to have the easier target."
"You are most considerate, sir."
_I am most_ practical _. Mund has worked his gunnery crews as well as he knows how, but he's just learning himself._ Intrepid _'s accuracy is almost ten percent better, particularly with the deck guns._
Rik followed up his comment with a report. "Mount One indicates they have a solution." He smiled. "The gunnery chief expresses his hope that the commander does not believe that it takes him a whole minute to acquire a target, sir."
"I'm quite aware of that, Rik. But today I need the solutions to be correct, and triple checked, rather than quick. There's a morale war we're waging here, as well, although the Spanish don't know it yet."
"And what morale war is that, Commander?" asked Gjedde from his left side.
Eddie looked over. "The war to break their spirit by convincing them that they are facing a foe so precise and lethal that it makes no sense to stand against him. I don't want a lot of misses, today. And we've got the right weather for shooting. Pretty calm seas, with both wind and current following, now that we've got the weather gauge on them. So there's minimal chop, and what little there is, we're counteracting with our propulsion: we're cutting through those little waves without a bump. All good news for our gunners. And all bad news for the Spanish. And by the time we've fired three rounds, I want them thinking that retreat or surrender are their only reasonable options."
Rik stepped back into the group at the front of the flying bridge. "Mount One reports a triple-checked firing solution, sir. Range is six-hundred-eighty yards. The Spaniard is trying to turn into us, but she's still close-hauled and sluggish. We'll have a target that's in three-quarter profile."
"Very good. Confirm that Mount One is loaded with solid shot and tell them to stand by. Has Mount Two signaled she can bear on the target, as well?"
"Just a few moments ago, sir. They're getting a solution, now. Range is now just over six hundred yards, sir."
Eddie sighed softly. _Which means it's showtime. This is what we trained for. And this is where we see if all our fine technology will perform, and if Admiral Simpson really knew what he was doing when he put me in charge of all this high-octane machinery and all these brave men._ And, somewhere behind that self-focused anxiety, Eddie remained aware that, today, success for him would ineluctably mean death for dozens, probably hundreds, of Spanish sailors and soldiers.
"Mount One reports ready and tracking, Commander." Rik's voice was a little tense, was clearly the verbal equivalent of a light jog to his elbow.
Eddie exhaled. "Mount One may fire at will. Mount Two?"
"Has a solution, now, Commander."
But Eddie was watching Mount One's chief gunner, now perched on a removable observer's pulpit, attached to the side-gunshield of the eight-inch naval rifle. Watching both the swells and the interferometer from that greater height, he leaned forward, like a hunter about to spring after prey—
His order to fire was immediately drowned out by the roar of the naval rifle. With well-trained speed, the gun crew had the breech open, and were already swabbing it.
Eddie saw this only peripherally. His eyes were on the galleon only five-hundred-fifty yards off his starboard bow, where a tall plume jetted upward about ten yards short and to the left side of the enemy ship.
The gun-chief's fulminations in Swedish and German, at himself and his men, were quite audible all the way back on the bridge. In point of fact, it had been an excellent first shot, and Eddie found himself strangely relaxed as he gave the next order to Rik almost casually over his shoulder. "Mount Two, fire when ready."
Mount One was loading another round when the _Intrepid_ 's second eight-inch naval rifle roared from abaft the bridge and sent its solid shell through the foremainsail of the galleon, only three yards above the deck.
"Mount One is to fire when ready. Mount Two is to load explosive shell, adjust, and fire."
"Yes, sir!" Rik almost shouted, as Eddie looked down at his watch. Thirty-one seconds since Mount One had fired. Any moment now, she should be—
Mount One thundered again, smoke geysering out toward the galleon.
The shell went into the Spaniard's hull just two yards under the gunwale amidships, but the extent and nature of the damage was not immediately visible as dust, splinters, and debris vomited outward in a wedge-shaped cloud. By the time it had settled, there was more smoke rising up from the deck of the Spaniard. Clearly, the shell had hit something substantial and easily flammable on that first gun deck. Otherwise, the eight-inch shell would quite possibly have exited the hull on the other side.
With the smoke of the impact clearing, the full scope of the damage was now evident. An immense hole with a saw-toothed periphery had been ripped out of the galleon's side. One gun and its crew were nowhere to be seen. The piece adjoining it was over on its side and figures struggled and flopped fitfully in the distant gloom of that savaged center gun deck.
"Mount One is asking if it should load explosive, Commander," Rik asked.
"Tell them to stand by, and continue tracking. The next shell from Mount Two could end the engagement."
"Aye, sir," acknowledged Rik, just as Mount Two thundered behind them.
Eddie prepared himself for the resulting impact by visualizing the effect of the explosive shell on the carrack he had sunk off St. Hirta island, months ago. He had been careful to recall every detail of that explosion, of the discorporating ship, of the shattered bodies, so that he would be prepared for this moment.
But he wasn't. The shell tore into the ship just where the stairs that led down from the poop deck met the maindeck. Entering at a slight angle, it sent splintered wood and gunnery gear in all directions. A flash of powder—probably a readied fusing-quill—touched off as the shell passed deeper into the ship.
In the next moment, the forward frame of the poop deck seemed to blast outward, flame and smoke vomiting through rents made by the murderous pressure that now shot outward and upward through its riven timbers. Fragments—of chandlery, stored spars, cooking pots—ripped skyward through the pilot's post atop the poop deck. The mizzenmast went over, taking out the port quarter rail and several of the mainsail's stays.
The human costs were hard to make out at five-hundred-fifty yards range, but Eddie hesitated before raising the 10x binoculars to his eyes. He knew he needed to assess the enemy ship's state of readiness, but was not eager to see the carnage at a corrected equivalent of fifty-five yards.
Thankfully, the wounded and dead were all below the screening sides of the gunwale. Most of the fever-pitch activity about the deck was concerned with providing aid to the wounded or dragging the fallen out of the way. A swarm of sail-handlers were streaming aft, some reinforcing the mainsails' remaining stays, others starting aloft to rig new lines. Harder to see, on the port side of the spar deck, hurrying men with axes and buckets were wreathed in a steadily growing plume of smoke from below decks. It was unclear if they, or the fire they were fighting, were going to be the winners in their desperate contest. Along the gun decks, blood-smeared gunners heaved splintered wood, ruined tools, and no small number of bodies out the two gaping holes in her starboard side.
Meaning that, although the ship was stricken, she was still capable of putting herself in order for combat. And the troops aboard her, their morions and pieces bobbing as they crowded toward the starboard side, were clearly still spoiling for a fight. Whatever criticisms you might lay at the foot of Spanish soldiers and sailors, you couldn't fault them for a lack of courage. But unfortunately, that meant that Eddie had to give an order he'd hoped to avoid.
Perhaps Rik was reading his mind again. "Do we take them under fire once more, Commander?"
"Yes, Rik, but not with the deck-guns. I want Mounts One and Two to commence tracking our next target." Eddie pointed to the next ship on the extreme southern side of the Spanish formation, which the _Intrepid_ would pass still farther to the south, thereby fulfilling its mission as the lower pincer of evolution Delta.
"So, a broadside from the carronades to sink the Spaniard, then?"
"Well, I'd be happy not to sink her, Rik. Remember, the Dutch have a lot more crew than they have hulls. Any Spaniard we can take as a prize is an addition to our fleet. So, solid shot in the carronades. Tell Svantner to bring us one point to starboard and hold her steady. Get me to within four hundred yards of the Spaniard so the battery has a decent shot."
Rik nodded as he cut hand signals in Svantner's direction. "Very good, sir. But four hundred yards won't score nearly as many hits as if we press in to three hundred."
Eddie smiled. "Yeah, as I taught you, Rik. But we can't spare the time to maneuver closer. And actually, I'm counting on a few extra misses at four hundred yards. Firing at three hundred yards would be overkill."
"Would be what?"
"I'll explain later. Pass the word."
Rik was already sending the orders to the gun deck.
Admiral Pros Mund watched eagerly, greedily, and, he had to admit, with a measure of envy, as _Intrepid_ steamed swiftly around the extreme southern flank of the Spanish, quickly found the range of the closest ship, and, after two misses, put two shells into the hull's center of mass. An impressive feat of gunnery, even given the current favorable conditions.
_But now it is my turn, to defeat my foes and please my king._ Unbidden, he recalled the image of Edel's strong but aloof profile, staring hatefully at the snowy lumps and naked peaks of the Icelandic coast, and thought: _and if Christian is pleased enough, then maybe I can also bring her to a place where she will smile once again._
_Resolve_ , engines vibrating beneath Pros Mund's feet, had worked her way beyond the north extents of the approaching Spanish van. The only exception were the three _patache_ s that had almost comically attempted to deny the steamship the weather gauge. Their captains, either showing that they had better sense or better speed than those aboard the galleons, ultimately scattered like so many cream-winged pigeons as the tremendous speed of the up-time ship left them struggling to react swiftly enough. Stranded between and behind the now fully opened pincers formed by the _Intrepid_ running along the southern edge of the Spanish van and the _Resolve_ skimming along its northern edge, the Spanish _patache_ s were now circling, as if uncertain what to do. With the wind turning so it was more from the north, flight to the northeast along the comparatively treacherous windward side of the Lesser Antilles was becoming increasingly problematic. The wind could, instead, catch them in irons, or buffet them back toward their own fleet, or down upon the _Achilles_. But she was a big ship, outgunning them by at least two to one, and more than that by far in weight of shot per broadside. In the time it took for them to get the weather gauge on her, night would be falling and the steamships might be back. On reflection, Pros admitted, it was easy to understand why the _patache_ s were biding their time, waiting for some indication of which course of action might prove most prudent.
Haakon, Mund's first mate, approached and bowed. "Admiral Mund, we are at four hundred yards, as you instructed. Orders?"
Mund nodded. "Do Mounts One And Two have the gauge—er, have firing solutions for the Spaniard?"
"Yes, sir."
"They are loaded with solid shot?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then tell them to fire at once and await reloading orders."
"Yes, sir." Mere moments later, both of his ship's great guns spoke. Two geysers appeared in front of the enemy ship, bracketing it to left and right.
"Load solid shot, adjust, fire when ready," he shouted to the orderly, who relayed the orders into the speaking tubes.
On the Spanish ships, musketeers were beginning to ascend into the rigging, finding comparatively stable spots higher up on the ratlines.
Mount One spoke shortly before Mount Two, and put a shell into the low-slung bow of the Spanish galleon, the bowsprit coming down with a crash, stripping off stays and planking that trailed, foaming, in the water along her port side. The shell from Mount Two fell short rather than long this time, but only by fifteen yards.
"Load with explosive shell," Mund said, and told himself he did not feel a thrill to give that order. "And fire at will."
Mount One spoke first, again, and put her shell into the Spaniard's fo'c'sle. Planks, rails, bodies flew up in a blast of dust and smoke, snapping two bow stays of the foremast as the ship veered sharply to port. A moment later, the second shell sliced into the ship's deck just a few feet to the port side of the mainmast, penetrating both the spar and the layered hardwoods of the shaft in which it was set. The explosion was sharp and fierce. Deckplanks sprayed in all directions as the thunderclap of smoke and woodchips sent the mainmast several yards into the air, stripping free of its stays and shrouds, the main topgallant snapping away from the main spar of the mast, sails flying wildly about as if signaling distress. That cyclone of splintering spars severed another foremast stay and the fore topgallant teetered and shook, a telltale sign that the entire mast was in jeopardy.
"She's all but dead in the water," exulted Haakon as they passed abreast of the crippled galleon. "A broadside to finish her off?"
"No, we move to the next target." Mund gestured to the next Spanish ship, a smaller galleoncete, another five hundred yards farther west. "Our job is to work along both sides of their van, crippling ships so that we and the Dutch may take them as prizes later. This ship has only the use of her mizzen, and has fires to control, beside. She will not escape, and cannot maneuver to return fire. If she tries, the Dutch will cross her bow and sweep her decks with grape." _Although_ I _want to take her, blast them. I want—I_ need _—the honors, the favor, of my king._ "Order more steam, and as soon as we have it, ahead full."
"Sir?" Haakon asked carefully. "We are already at the speed that was set—by you—for this phase of plan Beta."
"Plans change, Haakon." Mund drew his sword and nodded to the ensign of the Wild Geese whom he'd put in charge of his boarding team. "The sun is going down and we can have a more decisive victory if we hurry. And perhaps we can yet board a rich prize for the glory of our king." Mund's small, rare smile caused his subordinate to blink in surprise. "We have only begun to hunt, Haakon."
**_Grenada Passage, Caribbean Sea_**
Fadrique Álvarez de Toledo had seen enough to know that the day was lost, and that the most valuable thing he could do now was to save what was left of His Imperial Majesty's fleet and report the presence of these extraordinarily swift and lethal up-time ships to the governor of Havana. If he was able to pull away in good enough order and his ships were not scattered by fleeing into the approaching night, he would dispatch a _patache_ to inform Cartagena, as well. But those lazy Tierra Firma bastards had not even been reliable enough to show up for this fight. Although, seen objectively, it was probably a fortunate thing that they hadn't.
Whatever guns were on those two up-time ships, they were like nothing he'd ever seen or even heard rumors of, with the exception of last year's shelling of Hamburg. There, the up-time ironclads had reduced the heavy walls of that city to pulverized gravel in a matter of hours. And if these guns were not quite as devastating in their effects as rumor had described those long cannons, they were accurate and lethal at ranges that made the ships carrying them almost completely unapproachable. Fadrique had watched as the two long, fast ships split apart, bracketing and running along the northern and southern fringes of Jorge de Cárdenas y Manrique de Lara's van of eight galleons. In minutes, and firing from almost six hundred yards, the two ships had, with less than half a dozen shots each, disabled the two leading galleons. And unless he was much mistaken, several of those shells had carried explosives within them, almost like mortars. Then the southernmost up-time ship had unloaded a broadside into its target from the almost unthinkable range of four hundred yards. More unthinkable still was the accuracy and effects of the enemy carronades. The galleon had literally reeled under the force of the blast; its mainmast fell immediately, and an already thin trail of smoke became thicker and darker. Now, as the shadows were starting to lengthen, that hull, the _San Salvador_ , was listing severely to starboard and putting out increasing volumes of smoke.
And as if to prove that these results were the rule rather than the exception when fighting against these up-time ships, they had now completed savaging the next two galleons along their path. Once again, they had used the long guns that were mounted high on their weather decks and that had sharp reports, almost like thunderclaps, when they discharged. On this occasion, it was the northernmost of the up-time ships which then fired a _coup de grace_ broadside, apparently of exploding shells.
It was hard to discern the range at which the up-time ship had unleashed that broadside. Álvarez de Toledo hypothesized it might have been as little as two hundred yards since its smaller target, the galleoncete _La Concepcion_ , had fired back, probably more in defiance than out of any reasonable hope of scoring a hit. And it was impossible to know exactly how many hits had been scored upon the galleoncete or where. But to Fadrique's trained ear, it did indeed sound as if all the shells of that broadside were tipped with explosives. Because after the thunderous crashing and eruptions of smoke were over, _La Concepcion_ was still there, meaning it wasn't her magazine that had been struck, despite the sound. But she was fiercely aflame from stem to stern and settling rapidly into the water, listing to port. If Fadrique had still been a betting man, he'd have predicted she'd burn to the waterline by ten o'clock and would roll and go down at about midnight.
But if he had any say in the matter, neither he nor any of his ships would be here to see either of those moonlit events. He swung his glass around to gauge the range to the Dutch: five hundred yards. If he turned to port and came about one-hundred-eighty degrees, he would put more distance between his ships and theirs before heading due west to catch the following wind and so, escape with all haste. He would use that wind to run overnight and regather his ships come dawn. If there was no sign of pursuit, he could then start working his way across the great central expanse of the Caribbean, tacking to make northern progress toward Santiago, the closest place of Spanish strength.
But that portside turn would take him through the very eye of the wind, and his galleons were finicky when tacking. They lost way so quickly that there was always the chance that, if the breeze died as they began to turn into it, that they might not tack across but struggle through baffling winds or, worse yet, get caught in irons. In which case the Dutch, whose ships could sail closer hauled, would catch them astern.
But the alternative, a hard turn to starboard, had its own risks. Yes, it put the wind behind him almost immediately since he only had to make a ninety degree turn, but he was still sailing obliquely toward the northbound Dutch. And at this range—
—well, at this range, he hadn't the time for indecision. "Roderigo, tell the pilot hard a starboard as tight as she'll take it."
"Admiral!" cried Roderigo, "that could bring us within two hundred yards of the Dutch guns, closer if they read our intent correctly."
"We've no choice. Do as I say, and signal the other ships to do so at once as well."
"Yes, sir. I shall—"
There was a cry from the foretop crow's next. "Smoke! Smoke off the starboard bow! And sails!"
De Toledo cursed, swung up his spyglass, and felt a bitter cold in his belly that threatened to unman him. Sharply outlined against the western horizon was a single, thin, but rapidly advancing plume of smoke and the sails of three sizable fore-and-aft rigged vessels: outsized jachts or _patache_ s. Bigger than his _patache_ s, at any rate. And that smoke could only mean one thing.
"Sir," Roderigo asked hoarsely, "what is it? What are they?"
"The third side of the trap," Fadrique answered bitterly. "And that smoke is yet another of these blasted up-time steam ships. I cannot tell how big it is—those ships are too far off—but it hardly matters. If we turn due west to catch the wind, they shall cut us off. They can sail closer to the wind and are heading northward, across our line of withdrawal."
"So what do we—?"
"We still come about hard to starboard, but we keep turning. Take us through a one-hundred-thirty-five degree turn, so that our final bearing is north by northwest. That and due north are the only open sides of this box ambush they've sprung upon us. And of the two, the northwest allows us to keep the wind over our starboard quarter. We should be able to outrun them. Maybe. Pass the order."
"Yes, sir." Roderigo tarried a moment, concern in his dark brown eyes. "And the rest of our fleet? What of them?"
De Toledo looked behind to the northeast. The southernmost of the up-timer ships was starting to fire on a third galleon, while the northernmost steamship was leaping ahead even faster, bearing down directly upon its third target, de Cárdenas' own flagship, the _San Miguel_. The up-time ship's angle of approach suggested an intent to board. "Roderigo," Fadrique breathed heavily in answer, "the rest of our fleet is already lost. Now let us go, and hope we can avoid being crippled by the Dutch guns as we make our escape."
"Commander Cantrell, a message from Admiral Tromp!" the voice from below decks was surprised but pleased.
"Read it off, rating."
The rating complied. "Message begins. Tromp commanding _Amelia_ to Commanders _Resolve_ and _Intrepid_. Stop. Radio signal from Gijszoon. Stop. Has rendezvoused with _Eendracht_ , steam pinnace, and prize _patache_. Stop. Currently twelve miles west of my van. Stop. Maneuvering to deny Spanish escape to west. Stop. Spanish ships coming about to flee. Stop. Have taken two under fire, attempting to intercept. Stop. May be delayed reaching your area of engagement to help with crewing of prizes. Stop. Will update on pursuit of Spanish soonest. Stop. Message ends."
"Well, Floriszoon and the earl of Tyrconnell showing up now: that's a pleasant surprise!" exclaimed Rik brightly.
Gjedde nodded. "Yes, but that's not." He pointed almost due north as _Intrepid_ 's Mount Two roared and put a final shell into the third galleon's sterncastle, flame and smoke gushing out all her shattering windows as the explosive shell went off deep inside her.
Eddie followed Gjedde's finger past the devastated galleon and suppressed a gasp. Even from this distance, it was clear that _Resolve_ had not merely closed to broadside range with one of the largest galleons, but could only mean to board her. "My God, what is Mund doing? We agreed that neither of us would—"
Gjedde shook his head; he looked sad but oddly unsurprised. "Pros Mund is the admiral. He is the one person who may elect not to follow the orders that were agreed upon."
"But then why didn't he radio, let us know—?"
"Commander Cantrell," Gjedde said sadly, slowly. "Let us move to the next ship, and try to signal Admiral Mund. And let us shift two points to starboard as we do so."
"Tuck more tightly to the north? Why? Do you want to start boarding galleons now, as well?"
"No, Commander Cantrell. I want to be closer to _Resolve_. In case something goes wrong."
_You mean, "more wrong,"_ thought Eddie, but instead he shouted, "Mr. Svantner! Two points to starboard and give me some more steam. We may be changing our plans."
Pros Mund's heart leaped up as the great galleon's mainmast came down. The long pennant that announced it as the flagship of the fleet's admiral went over the side with the topmain spar and disappeared into the wreckage-strewn waters.
After finding the range, his deck gunners had put three solid and three explosive shells into the galleon, which he had feared might sink her. But the towering Spanish ship with a looming broadside of twenty-six-, forty-two- and thirty-six-pounders proved that sheer mass was a quality unto itself. The heavy timbers of the craft were rent in many places, putting out smoke from several, but it remained seaworthy and upright.
The same could not be claimed for a great many of her crew, however. Her top decks were a writhing mass of sailhandlers attempting to save the fore and mizzen, seamen struggling to douse fires, musketeers trying to find enough calm among the chaos to keep a bead on the approaching up-time ship, and a foot-tangling mass of dead and wounded comrades. Along the gun decks, four of the guns had spoken in response, but at slightly better than one-hundred-fifty yards, only one had scored a hit. It was respectable shooting, actually, but futile. The ball had rebounded from the _Resolve_ 's stout reinforced timbers, its only effect having been to leave a significant dent in them.
"One hundred and twenty yards!" cried Haakon from the deck.
"Helm," shouted Mund, "one point to starboard. Haakon, as soon as we're alongside the Spaniard, fire port-side battery. Mitrailleuses,"—Mund had moved both to the same side of the ship for this very reason—"prepare to concentrate fire upon the enemy's quarterdeck."
The _Resolve_ straightened from her starboard correction, and the portside carronades, all fourteen of them, roared, sending jets of smoke toward the Spaniard that quickly diffused, forming a single, cloudy smear that veiled the other ship.
But even through those drifts of gunpowder-fog, Mund could see that eight of his fourteen eight-inch carronades had struck the galleon, including one of the three he had loaded with explosive shell. The ruin along the first gun deck was unlike anything he'd seen before. Half the strakes were broken at least two places and the interior explosion ejected a spray of gear, balls, and bodies from deep within the Spaniard. The scene on the deck was more frenzied still, with the new casualties and growing panic undermining the ongoing attempts to put the ship a-right for combat. And now that the smoke was clearing, he could see that the quarterdeck, the logical location of both the admiral and a guard of his best marksmen, was returning to order noticeably faster than the rest of the weather deck. That was almost surely a sign that effective commands were still being issued and followed, there.
Haakon was shouting a warning at the same moment that Pros Mund pointed his drawn sword at the Spaniard's quarterdeck and shouted, "Mitrailleuses, fire on the quarterdeck!"
The .50 caliber multibarreled guns began firing rapidly. The two weapons emitted a rippling roar and their stream of projectiles played in tight arcs back and forth across the galleon's quarterdeck.
Mund discovered that he had stopped exhaling in mid-breath. He had seen carnage aplenty in his years before the mast: waves of musketry sweeping decks; cannon balls blasting through bulkheads, sending forth a wide spray of daggerlike splinters that sliced men to ribbons. But nothing prepared him for this: the methodical and relentless cone of death that walked back and forth upon the Spaniard's high quarterdeck with terrible precision and even more terrible lethality. Probably two-thirds of the rounds fired passed high, splintered rails, or chewed at the hull's side, but the one third that did hit dropped men in windrows and shattered every object they hit. The tiller was riven, the compass stand blasted, lights shattered, flag boxes riddled. The bullets not only went through the breast plates of the crowded soldiers, but out the back as well, still carrying enough force to slay men behind the first. But unlike the broad sprays of blood he associated with wide, slow-moving musket balls, these bullets simply rose a brief, maroon-colored puff, or left no external sign whatsoever—and seemed all the more haunting, for that. It was as if the bullets themselves were too focused on killing to make any sign that they had done so, were too busy finding another life to extinguish or limb to maim.
Mund was still staring at the abattoir that had been the crowded poop of the Spaniard when the questioning cry came from the rear mitrailleuse mount. "Do we reload, Admiral?"
"Yes," barked Mund, rousing from his fixated daze and leaping down the steps of the running bridge to join the boarders sheltering behind the portside gunwales. Most were Irish, who he had always heard were a rather loud and raucous lot. But now, as they waited to join the combat, they were among the most silent and ferociously focused troops he had ever seen. "Three points port," he shouted over his shoulder at the pilot. "Bring us alongside her to board." Mund envisioned Edel smiling again, smiling as they neared a new land grant, this one back home in Denmark, maybe along the coast near Skaelskor . . .
"Admiral!" shouted Haakon again.
Edel and her elusive smile had been swept away by Haakon's cry. "Damn it, man, what is amiss?" he asked sharply, scanning the Spaniard for signs of trouble.
His eyes gave him the answer the same moment Haakon did. "Swivel guns up along the bow, Admiral. Get down—!"
It hardly seemed fair, Mund reflected, as he saw a half-dozen Spaniards swinging their hastily remounted small guns in the direction of his boarders. _Resolve_ 's first hits upon the Spaniard had been in her forecastle, had started a fire there and left bodies draped over her gunwale and caught in her spritsail sheets. But Spanish professionalism was not to be underestimated. Even before they brought the fires under control, some of the troops at her waist had evidently discerned that the sides of the up-time ship were too high to allow them to engage her weather deck from their own. So they had sought a better vantage point by relocating to the greater altitude of the fo'c'sle and poop. So a good number of the midship's swivel guns—a mix of falconets, patereroes, morterettes, and espingoles—had been moved to yokes on the bow. It was not part of a subtle scheme to initiate counterfire from a part of the galleon that its attackers might reasonably conclude was no longer in the fight. Rather, it was a product of dumb luck and the training and dogged resolve of professional soldiers who insisted on finding a way to strike back, even when higher orders were no longer forthcoming.
Mund turned to order his own swivel guns on the starboard side, the two-inch "Big Shots" of down-time manufacture, to fire upon their Spanish equivalents. As he did, the morion-helmeted Spanish leaned over their pieces and discharged them in a ragged volley. Pros Mund saw Haakon diving for cover, thought that he should have done so himself before shouting his most recent order, felt a rapid patter of dull thumps in his chest, saw Edel's disapproving frown—
And then he saw nothing at all.
Eddie Cantrell's foul-mouthed alcoholic father had always been outraged when any of his children emulated his colorful use of language. He had communicated that displeasure with either a tongue- or a belt-lashing. So Eddie had come to adulthood with a reflexive tendency to avoid cursing. However, when the _Resolve_ sent a second broadside into the ship she had closed with, he let out an oath between clenched teeth.
Although his eyes were still locked to his binoculars, he could hear Gjedde shift alongside him, imagined the Norwegian staring at him. "Is Mund boarding her?"
"No," Eddie grumbled, "he's destroyed her."
As if on cue, the broadside—evidently all explosive shells—went off within the galleon, which seemed to fly apart. The last two masts went down, the mizzen cartwheeling into the water. The sterncastle and forecastle both seemed to detonate from within, planks, window frames, bodies flying outward in a shower of general destruction—
The magazine went up with a roar like two fast thunderclaps. The flash it made was reminiscent of the nighttime battleship gunnery duels that Eddie had seen on the newsreel footage included in countless documentaries on the History Channel. It wasn't just one great light, but a kind of quick-strobe effect of overlapping explosions. An all-obscuring blanket of white smoke fumed outward furiously, catching the slightly roseate light of the descending sun as it did.
Rik swallowed nervously. "How close was _Resolve_ when—?"
Eddie sighed. "One hundred yards, maybe a little more. They're safe, but will be catching some of the debris on their deck. Damn it, I wonder what happened, why Mund decided to—?"
"Commander Cantrell," the intraship comm rating called up. "Mounts One and Two report they continue to track our target and are loaded with explosive. Awaiting your orders."
Eddie suppressed yet another sigh and swung his glasses toward the fourth galleon on his target list. She was coming about and starting to make some headway in her attempt to run to the northwest. Not that it mattered. The best she could do was three knots, if she was lucky. _Intrepid_ was already doing ten and Eddie could call for more, if needed. "Range?" Eddie asked lazily. Strange how the combat gunnery that had been a nail-biting novelty forty minutes ago had become a comparatively dull routine.
"Five hundred fifty yards, sir."
"Fire at will. Reload and maintain tracking but check fire."
Although Eddie was eager to see _Resolve_ emerge from the now-thinning smoke of the vaporized galleon, he forced himself to watch his guns' effects upon their present target. One shell struck the fo'c'sle, penetrating deeply before exploding. Timbers and smoke roiled outward, a cannon upended and disappeared off the opposite side of the shattered weather deck. The second shell passed into the stern windows of the galleon and went off after a beat. It made a muffled noise, and smoke started trailing out the ruined captain's cabin about the same moment that the ship's rudder seemed to loosen and the breeze in the sails tugged the ship into a more westerly course.
"She's sailing before the wind now, rudderless," commented Gjedde. "The shell probably exploded somewhere near her whipstaff or tiller-chains."
Rik nodded, turned toward Eddie. "Shall we come close enough to let the carronades fire some canister-shot into her sails?"
Eddie shrugged. "Even if we didn't, she can't steer, so she's going nowhere fast. But we might as well slow her down a little, even so." He aimed his next query down at the comm ratings working beneath below deck. "Any word from _Resolve_ yet?"
"No, sir."
"Then hail them, ask for an update."
Gjedde nodded at the last ship of the Spanish fleet's eastern van. "What about her? I suspect we'll only have to put a few shells into her at range, and ask her to strike colors."
"Because of what she's seen us do to her sister ships?" asked Rik.
Eddie saw what Gjedde was getting at, shook his head. "No, because she's not _really_ a sister ship. Look at her waterline, the slope of her tumblehome, the more widely spaced gun ports. She's not a galleon but a nao, a trading ship that the Spanish sometimes rearm for combat."
"She looks quite similar to the galleons," Rik observed with a dubious frown.
Gjedde nodded. "Because there's little difference when the Spanish lay down a galleon from when they lay down a nao. In an emergency, they can reequip her, as I'm sure they've done now. But she'll have a crew more accustomed to trade and running from enemy ships, rather than fighting and heading toward them. She knows she can't outrun us before dark. And, as you said, she knows what our guns can do." He folded his arms. "Since she's already running, I'd say she's half-ready to surrender. Just give her master a good excuse—two shells from the rifles—and I suspect she will strike her colors."
"Commander Cantrell," the intership radioman called up, "I have a report from the _Resolve_. From First Mate Haakon."
Eddie, Gjedde, and Rik exchanged rueful glances. "Please read the message, rating."
"Message begins. _Resolve_ to _Intrepid_ : Admiral Mund killed by enemy fire. Stop. First Mate Haakon in temporary command. Stop. Unaffected by explosion of galleon. Stop. Minor casualties among deck personnel from enemy swivel guns. Stop. Awaiting orders. Stop. Message ends."
The news was somewhat worse than it might have been, but it was hardly a surprise. The three officers stood quietly on the flying bridge for several long seconds. Then Eddie turned to Gjedde. "I believe this means you are now in command of our ships, Captain Gjedde. Do we continue with the second half of our plan, to chase the Spaniards' southern van?"
"We can overtake them within the hour," Rik added. He sounded eager.
Gjedde stared at the setting sun for several more seconds. "We could, but we shall not. There will not be enough light left to use our guns for very long, and to chase them will take us far away from Tromp's van. Furthermore, the _Resolve_ just lost her captain who is also the only senior officer with extensive training in all the technological innovations on the ship. The section heads are all competent, but Haakon was a late addition to the command staff and did not receive enough training across these various areas of new expertise. So even if we had more light, we may not count upon the _Resolve_ to perform as she might under better circumstances."
Eddie leaned back and let Rik lead the charge for action, watching Gjedde's response. "So shall we engage the _patache_ s, then? They are slipping away to the south, just a few miles to port."
Again Gjedde shook his head. "They are maneuvering southwest because they are fleeing. I suspect they hope to slip between our steamships and Tromp's van, and thence, escape west into the open waters of the Caribbean, following in the wake of the Spanish southern van. They are smaller and more maneuverable, and so are much harder to hit. And there is nothing to be gained in chasing them into the dark. We have enough work ahead of us just to regroup, take what prizes we may, sink what we may not, and decide upon our next course of action."
"Not back to Trinidad as we planned, then?" Rik sounded perplexed.
Gjedde shook his head. "Not all of us."
Eddie was careful to make his observation oblique enough to avoid sounding like criticism. "With respect, Captain, we have over a hundred Wild Geese, twenty other ship's troops, and an oil-prospecting team on Trinidad. It seems we have some difficult choices to make, weighing adequate defense for them against our obvious need to tow our prizes back to St. Eustatia for refit."
Gjedde stared at Eddie but nodded. "Just so. And that is why we may not take as many prizes as we wish. As you say, we must balance how many of the spoils we may take from this battle against how much it costs us to take them at all. And I assure you, Commander, I will not leave Trinidad poorly defended. But we must make a quick run to St. Eustatia if we are to meet Trinidad's special needs, just as we must provide for the new requirements of our fleet."
"You mean, we need to bring Ann Koudsi and the drillers the gear they need to start sinking some holes?"
"That, and we need to inaugurate a new class of officers and seamen, Commander."
Eddie nodded. "Of course. There are a lot of extra sailors waiting in St. Eustatia who could be reassigned as crew for the prize vessels we take here."
Gjedde's brow seemed to wrinkle. "Yes, but that was not what I was thinking of, primarily."
"Oh, Captain? Then what new class of officers and seamen are you talking about, sir?"
"The ones you are going to train, Commander. Between these new guns, the cruisers, the steam pinnaces, the balloons, and the radios, we are now fighting a very new kind of war. And you are the person who is going to teach a new cadre of officers how to fight it. Now, Commander Cantrell, I believe we have a nao to frighten into submission before we may set about regrouping and taking our prizes."
**_Le Grand Cul-de-Sac Marin, Guadeloupe_**
Jacques Dyel du Parque glanced over his shoulder out into the bay known as Le Grand Cul-de-Sac Marin, where the Dieppe-built bark _Bretagne_ rode at anchor. He wished he was still on it, and bound back to Martinique. Possibly all the way back to France. He hadn't yet decided the limits (if any) of his aversion to the Leeward Islands.
His uncle, however, had no such reluctance or regrets, having made his admittedly inconstant fortunes here in the New World, and, most particularly, on St. Christopher's. Which, Jacques readily admitted, was a pleasant enough place, but seemed doomed to be overrun by the English, their Irish bondsmen, and now the Dutch. It was only a matter of time before the island's French colony would be taken over, either by martial conquest or marital cooption.
So, in an act of prudence that was also an attempt at creating a legacy (his uncle, Pierre Bélain sieur d'Esnambuc, had not married and so Jacques had come to understand that he was to be the beneficiary of his intermittent and inchoate patriarchal impulses), Jacques found himself the lieutenant governor of the two-month old colony on the island of Martinique. Which was neither as friendly to husbandry nor as hospitable as St. Christopher's, and furthermore, was the home of natives whose receptivity was, at best, uncertain. However, Uncle Pierre had met with the rather daunting Caribs on his way to fetching Jacques, and reported that the proposal he had made to them in that meeting had significantly improved the local cacique's opinion of their French neighbors/invaders. Jacques remained unsure which term better represented the native attitude toward the pale-skinned visitors, and suspected the Caribs themselves remained undecided.
After sending a skiff to fetch Jacques from his glorified shack in Fort St. Pierre, d'Esnambuc had set course directly for Guadeloupe, inquiring affectionately after his nephew's health and spirits and then immediately closeting himself with the Carib warrior who had accompanied him from Martinique. From the few words he had exchanged with his uncle since then, this fellow, Youacou, was a person of some diplomatic significance by dint of his relations. While not a cacique himself, he was well-placed for Uncle Pierre's immediate purposes. On the one hand, Youacou's maternal aunt had married a renowned hunter from the Caribs of Guadeloupe. On the other hand, Youacou's second-cousin-once-removed had been killed by Thomas Warner on St. Christopher's in 1626, at the genocidal massacre that had since acquired the eponymous label the Battle of Bloody Point. Jacques had not wanted to embarrass his uncle by inquiring how it was that Youacou had been convinced that Thomas Warner alone had been responsible for the death of his second-cousin-once-removed, since d'Esnambuc had fought alongside the English in that battle and, according to stories told by his uncle's long-standing assistants, the battle had fundamentally been fought at his urging. Warner had, it was whispered, been exceedingly reluctant to interpret deteriorating relations with the Caribs as an inevitable prelude to slaughter.
But Jacques had no opportunity to ask such ticklish questions. It was almost as if his uncle was trying to avoid him, or at least to have any sustained conversation with him while they were aboard the _Bretagne_. But now they were ashore, and Youacou had disappeared into the bushes, just as two of d'Esnambuc's men started down the beach to make contact with the French settlers here, who, having arrived almost four months ago, were still living in tents. Just around the next headland, the smoke from their cooking fires rose lazily up toward the cotton-ball clouds.
"Uncle," Jacques began mildly, "I do not know if this is a better time for us to converse?"
D'Esnambuc turned with a genuine smile. "It is, my boy. I am sorry I have had to hold you at arm's length since I spirited you away from your duties on Martinique, but it was essential that you not know just why you were being brought here."
"That sounds quite mysterious, Uncle."
"Not so much mysterious as delicate, Jacques. You remember that I spoke to you of the two men that Richelieu's agent, Fouquet, sent here to colonize Guadeloupe?"
"Yes. One was a former colonist under you at St. Christopher's: Charles Liénard de l'Olive. A bold man, you said, but not particularly politic."
"Precisely my words, I believe. Well, during his partner's absence, it seems he has further mismanaged his supplies and his relations with the Caribs of this island. I suspect he shall be raiding them for food before the year is out."
Jacques frowned. "But does this not match your expectations and hopes?" D'Esnambuc had not welcomed Fouquet's diversion of finances and assistance to the strange pair who had undertaken the settlement of Guadeloupe, and had refused their first requests for aid two months ago.
"It matches my expectations, but my hopes have changed, Jacques." He glanced at their guards, who were patrolling beyond the thin line of palm trees in whose shadows they waited. He lowered his tone so that it almost blended with the sound of the surf. "With the Dutch arriving in such great numbers on St. Eustatia, and now collaborating so freely and extensively with Warner's colony, my hopes that his settlement would wither for lack of support from England are dashed. Indeed, he now has such multitudes of workers and troops at his disposal that it is sheer inertia that keeps him from pushing us off the island altogether."
Jacques wondered if the principle of honoring one's agreements might not also work as a constraint upon the Englishman, but suspected his adventurer-uncle might not appreciate that perspective. "And our changed fortunes on St. Christopher's change your attitudes toward this Guadeloupe settlement in what way?"
"In every possible way, my boy, considering their most recent letter to me. A little less than a fortnight ago, a packet came to Basseterre in St. Christopher's. Despite much circumlocution, the letter's author, Jean du Plessis d'Ossonville, revealed that he had failed in a mission given to him by Richelieu. He was to have purchased a tract of land on Trinidad that had been seized by a group of 'adventurers' who were known—favorably—to the cardinal's allies in France."
Jacques frowned. "Will the Spanish care for such fine legal distinctions? It will not matter to them whether the land in question passed through independent hands before coming into Richelieu's grasp."
"Just as it shall not matter to the crown of France that Spain is offended. The law here in the New World, my boy, is that there is no peace beyond the Line. And even so, we did not field our flag against Spain's to come by the property. Beyond that, everything is a pesky detail of interest only to ministers-without-portfolio and historians."
Jacques shrugged. There was no arguing that almost certainly correct point. "So du Plessis failed to purchase this land on Trinidad. How does this impact our fortunes on St. Christopher's?"
Muttering, "Ah, my boy, my boy," d'Esnambuc ruffled his twenty-year-old nephew's head. Jacques put up with such inappropriately juvenile displays of affection in small part because the man expressing them had also undertaken to furnish him with a potential for wealth far beyond anything his rather neglectful father had assayed. But more so because he knew his Uncle Pierre loved him genuinely and that was worth more than all the islands and livres in the world to Jacques.
"Ah, my boy," d'Esnambuc repeated. "You have a good soul, bless you. Perhaps your prayers will redeem my sins, when I'm gone. But for now, listen and learn. From reading between the lines in du Plessis' letter, I am quite sure that he got greedy in his negotiations with these adventurers on Trinidad. From what de l'Olive told me of him, the fellow is clever and a shrewd bargainer. But I suspect in this case, he bargained a bit too hard. He forgot that in any negotiations, whether with priests or pirates, the objective is to shear the sheep, not skin them. For if they feel the edge of the shears, even if you have them bound to your will in that moment, they will remember that injury and look to repay it to you four-fold."
Jacques wondered if Uncle Pierre was always so prudent as his advice suggested and wondered how many shear-shaped scars Thomas Warner and the other English leaders of St. Christopher bore and still reflected upon with ill-feeling.
If d'Esnambuc perceived a disjuncture between his advice and practice, he did not evince it. "So, in his most recent letter, du Plessis once again requested aid. But this time, he is not only offering to pay for the food that his intemperate partner de l'Olive has now mismanaged into nonexistence, but is offering twice the highest rate I have seen. In livres, mind you."
"So, he is willing to spend the money that was entrusted to him to purchase this land in Trinidad—embezzle it, essentially—to save his failing colony here."
"Exactly."
"So, do you mean to help them?"
"Yes, but not as they asked or expect. There is a reason I did not try to establish a colony here on Guadeloupe, Jacques, despite the fine waters of its own basse-terre and reasonable promise of husbandry."
"The Caribs."
His uncle nodded. "I have fought them once before and am in no rush to do so again. And here they are far more numerous than on Martinique. I would not have planted you in that place, my boy, unless I felt sure we could make it safe. But this place?" Pierre waved a hand dismissively toward the south. "They are thick in those volcanic valleys, and they will remain so."
Jacques frowned. "So, du Plessis and de l'Olive are worried that they must have a success to show Richelieu that will induce him to pardon their failure at Trinidad, and now, are failing here as well. And the natives are populous upon these islands and unremittingly hostile. And the English have new friends—the Dutch, no less—on St. Eustatia and so our days on St. Christopher may be numbered." He shook his head. "Yet you report all these things as if they are harbingers of some great venture that may be undertaken. I do not see it."
D'Esnambuc smiled. "As I said, you have a good heart. Now, be schooled by your uncle who shall have all his successes in this world, not the next, I am quite sure. With the arrival of the Dutch, the Caribs know that their designs to retake St. Christopher's are all but dashed. And we, being pushed out like them, find ourselves sharing islands with them. And the current representatives of France on Guadeloupe are becoming more unwelcome by the day, for the natives know what the five hundred settlers under du Plessis and de l'Olive will do once their food runs out. They will raid their primitive neighbors and take what they need. And then, as it was on St. Christopher's, it will be war to the knife. So, logically, the natives are considering taking that fateful step first. And quite soon. But the Caribs know all too well what our weapons do, how many dozens of young warriors they will lose for every one of us firing from behind the walls of our forts.
"But in this moment, the interests of both parties, Frenchman and Carib, are strangely aligned. We have a common enemy in Warner, for with the Dutch on his side, he ruins both our designs on St. Christopher's. And since he now holds Nevis and Antigua as well, and the Dutch are crawling upon St. Eustatia like maggots on a dead cat in summer, we must all come to the same conclusion independently: that time is running out. And the only way we can change that is by combining our strength."
Jacques nodded, impressed and slightly horrified by the plan implied by his uncle's analysis. "So. You approached the Caribs of Martinique and offered them an alliance in exchange for—what? The English parts of St. Christopher's?"
D'Esnambuc nodded. "For them, and for the Caribs of Guadeloupe, if they both join us in driving the English and the Dutch out. And nothing if only one aids us."
"Whereby you hope the Caribs of Martinique will press the much larger tribes of Guadeloupe to cooperate."
Uncle Pierre shrugged. "It should not be so difficult. The great cacique slain almost ten years ago on St. Christopher's—Tegreman—has much family on Martinique, including a well-respected cousin. His sister's daughter is married to the young son of the cacique here on Guadeloupe. So through those relations, we shall bring the stick of family pressure to bear upon the Caribs, even while we dangle the carrot of reclaiming two islands under their noses."
"And how do du Plessis and de l'Olive fit into this?"
D'Esnambuc pointed at the headland, from whence their scouts were already returning, waving to signal that a safe approach could now be made. "There are at least four hundred desperate Frenchmen over that rise of land. All are armed. All can teach natives how to use firearms. And all that can be done here, and on Martinique, far away from the watchful eyes of Warner and his Dutch friends."
Jacques tilted his head in uncertainty. "But Uncle, training natives to use weapons: what is the point? Where would we get so many extra weapons, and powder, and shot? And with what funds?"
"The 'where' is handily answered by having high friends in low places. You may recall that we have traded more than once with the _boucaniers_ who range this far from Jamaica and Tortuga. I have had occasion to be in contact with them recently. They can provide us with almost one hundred fifty pieces, mostly old Spanish matchlocks, and no small amount of powder and shot. And all they want in return is silver."
Jacques nodded. "Which will come from the unspent purse that Richelieu sent along for the purchase of Trinidad."
"Which du Plessis and de l'Olive may eventually report purchased his Gray Eminence sole European possession of the richest of all the islands, St. Christopher, to say nothing of Nevis and Antigua, and bought goodwill and a cohabiting entente between us and the Caribs of Guadeloupe and Martinique." D'Esnambuc rose, carefully picked up his snaphaunce pistols from the canvas in which he had wrapped them as they sat, and started toward the scouts returning from the headland.
Jacques, following, shook sand from his own piece, and wondered aloud. "But how will we share so many islands with the Caribs? It is not feasible, in the long run, since we must turn their jungles and grasslands into cane and cotton fields. How will we resolve that problem?"
D'Esnambuc turned, smiled crookedly, shrugged and shook the pistols he held in his hands. "With these," he answered. "Now, let's meet these two fools from Dieppe."
Jacques had to admit that his uncle's uncharitable characterization of the two governors of the Guadeloupe settlement was, nonetheless, accurate. De l'Olive was a great fool, as could be determined within two minutes of meeting him. Bombastic, self-important, and with a heightened sensitivity to both real and imagined social slights, he was a man perpetually prepared to do battle with anyone and anything, and not for any particularly good reason. He was a fixture of French provincial farce come to life.
Du Plessis was the more educated and measured of the two, whose one crucial failing made him a lesser fool, but arguably a more dangerous one. Although intelligent and shrewd, be believed himself to be far more intelligent and shrewd than he actually was. Jacques was fairly certain that, if one was able to peruse a dossier of his past blunders, one of which had reportedly landed his family in debt and near-disgrace, they would all reveal a common thread. Namely, that du Plessis was ever and again snatching a baffling defeat from the jaws of almost certain victory. He was that species of man who would fail, time after time, and remain mystified how it could occur to one so mentally gifted and incisive as himself. And so he would ultimately bring ruin upon all unlucky enough to cast their fortunes in along with his.
This was clearly the case unfolding here in Guadeloupe. The squalor, short-tempers, and thin, hungry faces of the sprawling, unclean tent-city that was His Majesty's colony of Grande Terre read like a still-life of imminent disaster. And the look on du Plessis' face as he heard Pierre Bélain d'Esnambuc calmly and patiently unfold his bold plan was that of a man who was so distracted by his "inexplicable" failure at reversing the catastrophe rising around him, that he could neither admit to, nor even fully perceive, the brilliance of the seasoned adventurer who had come to offer him an alternative that reconfigured so many of their enemies and obstructions into assets.
Strangely, it was de l'Olive who embraced d'Esnambuc's strategies first, possibly out of an old instinct for following his former and usually successful leader. Or possibly because the hinge upon which the plan turned was all-out war. His first and last comment on it was as self-defining a statement as Jacques had ever heard come from a human. "I like a plan that allows me to cut through our problems with a sweep of my sword. I'm with you, on this!"
D'Esnambuc nodded, pleased, turned toward du Plessis. "And you, Jean, how about you?"
"Eh? I suppose it is quite prudent, quite well reasoned out. Actually. But I am unsure how Touman, the local cacique, will react to it."
"We'll know soon enough."
Du Plessis frowned. "I do not understand."
Uncle Pierre shrugged. "I sent Youacou, a Carib warrior from Martinique, ahead to invite him to a meeting."
"Here? In my camp?"
"Where else should one leader meet another? And he has my guarantee of safe-conduct, so you'd best tell your guards to be particularly polite when they receive him."
Du Plessis and de l'Olive exchanged looks, then de l'Olive nodded to one of the three lieutenants they had present. That bearded fellow left the rude table made of planking and headed for the sentry post that watched over the approaches from the southern, volcanic lobe of the island.
"Excellent," d'Esnambuc nodded. "He will be here soon, so I must make haste to explain the other reason why we must not delay in carrying out this plan. There is a new threat to our interests here in the New World."
Du Plessis perked up. "You are referring to the up-timers, of course."
For the first time in years, Jacques saw his uncle genuinely start in surprise. "You know?"
"I know one of them had managed to sway the mercenary colonel on Trinidad away from doing business with the agents of France. I know that he seemed to be in league with the Dutch. And I know if I see one such instance of cooperation, there must be others."
"There are indeed other instances of cooperation," d'Esnambuc affirmed with a vigorous nod. "According to the merchants in my own town of Basseterre who trade regularly with the English, two large up-time ships powered by steam made port in Oranjestad some weeks ago, then left. They came with other ships, about half a dozen, that had all been sent under the aegis of the USE or the Union of Kalmar, and they have delivered much needed stores to the Dutch."
Du Plessis seemed to grow pale. "If they manage to reinforce the Dutch position on St. Eustatia—"
D'Esnambuc nodded slowly, his gaze compelling the other Frenchman not to look away. "Then we are done. Beyond all hope. We already see that the Dutch are making common cause with the disowned English of St. Christopher, Barbados, the Bahamas, Bermuda. If the USE has decided to pursue interests along with them in the New World—"
"They have," du Plessis stated flatly. "That was why Richelieu was interested in the land in Trinidad."
Jacques understood du Plessis' reference immediately. Being the most recent arrival in the New World and the youngest of the Frenchmen present, he had had both the opportunity and inclination to immerse himself in matters pertaining to the up-timers and their technology. "Of course. They are after Pitch Lake. It is bitumen, and nearby, there is almost always oil. That is how most of their vehicles run, you see. It is the key to the operation of so many of their machines."
Du Plessis was nodding. Uncle Pierre was simply smiling, delighted and discernibly proud at his nephew's knowledgeable addition to the conversation. "Young Monsieur du Parquet knows whereof he speaks. Trust me, d'Esnambuc: the up-time presence here is not fleeting. They mean to have that oil. And that means they must establish a nearby stronghold in the New World. And where better than here in the middle of the Leeward islands, by expanding upon an already-extant port?"
Uncle Pierre nodded vigorously. "Yes, so we must destroy that port, that facility, before they can develop it. And I think you are very right that they mean to develop it as a military base, as well."
"Why?" asked de l'Olive suspiciously.
D'Esnambuc leaned back and folded his hands. To Jacques, his uncle suddenly looked like an improbably well-armed and vigorous school-master. "There is an up-timer on St. Eustatia now who has commenced a most unusual project. He is stringing what seem to be some kinds of cables high in the trees on the northeastern side of the volcanic mountain called The Quill. Specifically, on the slopes that face back toward Europe. I do not know what it portends, but an unusual amount of manpower, both freeman and slave, has been dedicated to the project. It also seems to involve the construction of a sizable steam engine that spins metal wheels, which resemble the blades of windmills trapped within a broad hub."
Jacques folded his hands and nodded. "They are building a radio, I think. A very powerful one. That steam plant you have heard about is to furnish power for it. A generator, I believe they call it. When the steam blasts through the tubes containing those wheels, their spinning generates electricity. I think. But for a radio to require that much electricity, it must be very powerful. And if those wires on The Quill are some kind of antenna—a metal grid which gathers or spreads radio signals—then this radio is not only meant to receive those signals over great distances, but send them as well."
"How great a distance?" Uncle Pierre asked quietly.
Jacques shrugged. "I do not know. My reading about their technology was more broad than deep. I do not know what the limit of such a radio might be."
"Perhaps not," said d'Esnambuc in a quiet, determined tone that sent a chill down Jacques' spine, "but I can find out. And I'll need to do it soon. This same American is making other problems for us."
"How so?" asked de l'Olive.
"He is apparently talking to the slaves working for him about ways in which they might acquire the means to buy their freedom. Likewise, he is speaking to the Dutch townsfolk about the greater safety and ease of having a colony of freemen and bondsmen, rather than spending every waking hour ensuring that their slaves do not flee or revolt."
"And the Dutch are listening to this nonsense?" de l'Olive snorted.
"Some. Perhaps enough. At any rate, no one is silencing this American. Even though he is not making any public speeches or the like, he is becoming famous for his casual conversations about such matters. Or, in the eyes of some, he is becoming infamous. When the landowners heard about these 'conversations,' most of them stopped leasing him slaves to help with the construction of whatever it is he is building on the windward side of The Quill."
Du Plessis frowned. "That should have put an end to his project, right there."
"It should have, but it did not. Tromp apparently found townsmen willing to add to the daily rate of the slaves' leases. The landowners, between their prior agreement and the lure of all that money, could hardly continue to refuse. And the slaves, of course, repeat the American's seditious ideas and exhortations back among their own people."
De l'Olive grumbled. "That's the end of your long-standing scheme for inciting a slave revolt, Captain d'Esnambuc. I remember how diligent you were in trying to bring one off from the time we returned after the Spanish chased us off in '29."
"Yes," d'Esnambuc agreed sourly. "If the Dutch convert their slaves to bondsmen, and they hold to their word, it is difficult to see how we will stimulate an effective revolt. Indeed, St. Eustatia may become a destination for escaped slaves and _encomienda_ laborers from all around the Caribbean. And I suspect that Warner would adopt the same policy quickly enough, if he saw it succeeding. So this may well be our last opportunity to not only protect our colony on St. Christopher's, but arrest a trend that could create problems for the _Compagnie des Îles de l'Amérique_ throughout the Lesser Antilles."
"Agreed," announced du Plessis, with a slap at his knee. "I think our plan must take precedence over all other efforts, at this point." Jacques was bemused to note how his uncle's plan had become a collective stratagem, in which du Plessis was now not only invested, but ready to claim a share of the authorship.
His uncle was too pragmatic a man to allow any impatience or resentment show, if he felt it. D'Esnambuc simply nodded and pointed his chin slightly southward. "And here comes our company, gentlemen. I believe that is cacique Touman and his entourage. And although it may irk you, I recommend you stand to receive him. Willing cooperation of the Caribs is, after all, the lynchpin of 'our' plan."
Jacques found himself quickly admiring Touman, who sat among both proven and potential enemies without any sign of fear or anxiety. He expressed no happiness, was indeed, quite grave, but was in no way rude. His inquiries were focused and well-considered. When he occasionally sensed that he was being given half-truths, he bluntly asked for a more complete explanation of the issue or item in question. Jacques wondered if his own countrymen would have been so collected and serious and yet polite if the circumstances were reversed, and he frankly doubted it. He knew that he would not have been.
At the end of half an hour, Touman nodded and surveyed the faces of the Frenchmen. He ended on d'Esnambuc and said, "You are bold, to contact my relatives on Madinina, which you call Martinique. And to come before me here on Karukera."
"And why is that, Cacique Touman?"
"Because you are he who slew Tegreman and took Liamuiga — St. Christopher's—from my people, the Kalinago. Had you not come to Youacou on Madinina first, and with only a small guard, I would not have heard the sounds of your tongue, but given orders that it be ripped from your head."
"Cacique Touman," d'Esnambuc said with a sigh. "You are a warrior so you understand that in war, events transpire that we do not intend. The terrible killing of the Kalinago on the island we call St. Christopher's was one such event. Had it not been for the fear in Warner's breast—that, having started slaying your people we would not be safe unless we left none alive—there would have been far less blood spilt. And among the blood that would not have been spilt was Tegreman's own. He was a leader and a straight-standing man. We did not always agree, and did not always part happy with each other, but men do so without killing each other. It should have been thus with him."
Touman stared with narrowed eyes at d'Esnambuc while the other Frenchmen held their breath as if witnessing a duel between well-matched pistoleers. "So with these words, do you claim that your hand was not the one which slew Tegreman?"
"I do claim that," d'Esnambuc replied quickly, truthfully.
"And you claim that your tongue did not give the command that others should kill him?"
"I claim that as well," Uncle Pierre lied just as quickly and convincingly.
Touman continued to look at d'Esnambuc for the better part of a minute, as if trying to read him the way his people read the clouds and wavelets for favorable signs to cross the great expanses between the islands of the Caribbean. At last, he looked away and spoke. "I shall speak plainly. I do not agree to become a part of these plans gladly. My people, the Kalinago, have had little luck trusting the word of pale men from over the sea, regardless of how they differ from each other in their language and dress and customs.
"But this I know: you speak the truth of the changing times in these islands. Although my people no longer do so openly, we visit our islands, even those you hold most strongly. We know the truth of what you say, that many ships and many Dutch came to Aloi, which you call St. Eustatia. And we have heard reports from our distant cousins of great ships that burn fires on their deck as they move more swiftly than the strongest men may row. I had wondered if these tales were true, but I doubt them no longer."
He met the eyes of each of the four white men once and then spoke again. "If you shall provide us with guns as you say, then the Kalinago people shall make this war with you against the English and Dutch of Liamuiga and Aloi. Afterward, we shall live there with you in peace and mutual protection, staying within the borders we have agreed upon today, which shall not change."
D'Esnambuc nodded. "We shall provide the guns as we have promised. You shall have thirty today and your warriors may have instruction in them before leaving."
"And these guns are ours to take?"
"They are. Within two weeks, we shall have at least one hundred more. We hope to have two hundred more. All these guns shall be yours also. We only ask that you do not use them, nor change them, when away from us. We must conserve the powder and shot to train you, and if any part of the mechanisms are changed, the guns may not function as well, or at all."
"I understand. I wonder if _you_ understand."
"I do not know what you mean, Cacique Touman."
"Can you not? Whether or not I have heard lies, sitting in council with you this day, you have given me guns, and the promise of many more. Which means you have given me the power to make men from over the sea keep their promises. It does not matter whether it is you, or the Spanish, or these men you say have come from another world of future spirits. We shall not tolerate lies any more.
"Furthermore, we have seen that you do not know the ways of these islands. Without our help, you would soon starve. We will provide what food we may, and trade with our cousins to the south for more. But now you will know— _all_ will know"—he shook the matchlock he'd been given lightly—"that nothing may be taken from us, or gained by threatening us. Those who depend upon our food will eat so long as they keep their promises. This I resolve. And so, I am finished." Touman stood. "My people will return tomorrow with food, and to learn more of how to use the guns you have given us. I hope this day marks the start of better times between our people." He nodded, turned, and left. Youacou remained behind for a moment, nodded, and left also.
When both were well gone, de l'Olive rounded on d'Esnambuc. "But Captain! You always said that we must never furnish the savages with guns. You always said if they—"
D'Esnambuc interrupted with a quiet voice that silenced his old follower more surely than a shout would have. "Yes, I did say that. And those were different times. Times when we did not need savages as allies. Times when the Dutch were not selling trade muskets near the Orinoco. But I am unworried."
Du Plessis frowned. "Why?"
"Did you not notice what Touman failed to ask for?"
Jacques nodded. "Metal for casting musket balls and the casting tools. And assurances of a constant supply of powder. They know what guns do, but do not yet have a full understanding of the other items they must possess and the skills they must master, if they are to continue using them."
"Just so, my nephew," Uncle Pierre said.
"But they will learn of these needs," du Plessis sputtered. "They will figure it out within the first few days and—"
"And we shall never let them want for powder or shot. Not now, not until that day comes when French ships sail untroubled from St. Eustatia to Guadeloupe and these lands are brimming with our colonists."
"And then?" asked Jacques, dreading the terrible answer that was sure to be uttered by the uncle he loved so much.
"And then," d'Esnambuc replied in a tone that sounded like an apology, "a day will come when our ships will ensure that the Caribs cannot leave our islands to trade for powder with anyone else. And so, the powder will go away. And so will they."
**_November 1635_**
Office, and custom, in all line of order
**_Three miles east by southeast of Pitch Lake, Trinidad_**
Ann Koudsi took off toward the number three hole at a dead run even before the first deep-toned alarm rang out. Her rig workers called the hoop of brass which made the sound a gong, but she thought it sounded more like a cowbell. However, she'd known a full three seconds beforehand that something must be happening, either good or bad, because the relentless percussive slamming of the cable drill rig stopped suddenly, and long before the scheduled personnel break and maintenance check.
As she emerged from the tree line into the small clearing where they'd first found the oil seeps, she scanned the crazed activity around the well. Ulrich was at the center of it, gesturing wildly, his German crew scattering to perform tasks that seemed to take them in every direction.
"Good news or bad?" Ann shouted as she came to a panting halt a dozen yards away.
"Both! Get back, Ann. Please!"
Instead, she rushed across the rest of the distance. She had decided, some months ago, that while she was not interested in taking stupid risks, she wasn't about to allow Ulrich to take any she wouldn't also. It would be bad enough to go on living without him. To know that she had seen to her own safety instead of being there to help, and maybe save, him would be simply unbearable.
"Ann—!"
"Save it. We'll argue later. What's up with number three?"
But even as she asked it, her nose told her the answer: a faint spoiled eggs smell. "Gas?"
"Yes, but then it stopped. And the last shavings that we took up were these." He pointed backward into a bucket. At a glance, she knew: they were near oil. Very near.
That was when the hole emitted what sounded like a muddy burp. It ended in a stuttering hiss that faded away.
She looked overhead. The cable was mostly out, spooling up onto a drum being cranked by two of the largest roughnecks. Two more waited to swing the drill bit up out of the casing and clear of the hole. "How far down are you?"
"One hundred eighty-seven feet. We were going slowly, just as you recommended. You were right about this one, Ann."
"Yeah," she said, purposely trying to sound as sour as the old eggs smell around her, "we'll see about that." She didn't want to get her hopes up, not when there was so much riding on—
"Pans are in place; catch tubes laid!" one of the workers shouted before backing away at a reverse trot.
"Ann," Ulrich insisted, "we can't do any more here. Let's get back, wait and see if—"
The platform vibrated slightly for a second. Out of the hole came a sound like a whale having a titanic episode of indigestion, punctuated by occasional flatulence.
Ann and Ulrich grabbed each other at the same instant and started running. A moment later, surging up from the ground behind them came a sound like a prolonged, slow burp, ending in a sigh— _okay, so not a gusher_ —which chased them off the platform with a light, misty shower of fine gray-and-black goo. The oil smell was unmistakable.
Ulrich, his white teeth incredibly bright in the midst of his smudged face, turned to her in the boyish glee that so endeared him to her. "You've done it, Ann! You've—"
" _We've_ done it. We. Us. And keep running. Never trust an oil well until you've capped it, and I'm not getting near that one for at least an hour." But as they ran farther up the trail, back into the comparative safety of the tree line, she could not suppress the surge of elation that arose with the word: _Oil! We've struck oil!_
**_Santo Domingo, Hispaniola_**
Fadrique Álvarez de Toledo y Mendoza pushed away the cup of decidedly inferior rioja but schooled himself not to allow the gesture to become so forceful as to signal displeasure. After all, he was a guest in the modest palace of Santo Domingo's captain-general, and the fellow, while lacking the body of a soldier, seemed to have the heart of one, since what he was suggesting was tantamount to political suicide. And given how petty and vicious Olivares was becoming these days, it was not beyond imagining that poor crippled Don Juan Bitrian de Viamonte y Navarra would receive a summons to Spain that would mark the end of his titles and honor and money. And a semi-invalid such as he might not survive very long without the ease and medicines his position made available to him. So, it might reasonably be said that de Viamonte was risking his life as much as any other man who decided to serve Spain's best interests, even if that meant dangerously bending or misconstruing the intent of Olivares' many dicta. And as for inferior rioja? Since Fadrique's duties seemed certain to keep him in the New World for the foreseeable future, he might as well accustom his palate to what was available this far from the vineyards of home.
The other man at the table was a youngish fellow, one Don Eugenio de Covilla, who had introduced himself as the confidential liaison between Captain-General de Viamonte and the redoubtable governor of Cuba, His Excellency Francisco Riaño y Gamboa, a hard-bitten old soldier whose physical and mental toughness were legendary. Gamboa had proven the truth of those legends even before he had fully arrived at his new assignment in Cuba. His ship having capsized off the coast of Mariel, the white-locked septuagenarian swam ashore with nothing but his royal patents and sodden clothes. And in the year that he'd been at his new post, he had made significant changes, as well as significant enemies. A field marshal prior to becoming the governor of arguably the most important Spanish city and island in the New World, he was aggressive in combating corruption and was not willing to look the other way when Spanish merchants conducted their (admittedly far more profitable) trade with the itinerant merchantmen of other nations, or with the so-called Brethren of the Coast. But, popular or not, given the alarming reports now emerging from the Lesser Antilles all the way down to the eastern edge of Tierra Firma, seventy-year-old Gamboa was precisely the sturdy warhorse needed to take on the Dutch and their new allies.
Whether de Covilla would represent Gamboa's wishes as forcefully as the Cuban governor himself was another question entirely. Frankly, Fadrique did not envy the young __hidalgo__ his job. Being the mouthpiece for the blunt, and even impolitic, Gamboa meant he would frequently become a most unwelcome messenger in the palaces of men who stood far above him in both rank and access to courtier's ears back in Madrid.
Fadrique stared down the table at Captain-General de Viamonte, who was finishing his wine, probably at the order of doctors. His withered arm was tucked against his far side and largely out of sight, but his patchy hair and labored breathing were unfortunately beyond concealment. It was obvious looking at the man why he had been bounced out of the governorship in Havana to make way for Gamboa, but the doing had not been the old general's, who was said to have a high regard for de Viamonte's quiet competence. Rather, Fadrique's present host had been undermined at court by the Marquis of Cadereyta, Don Lope Díez de Aux de Armendáriz, who, prior to his recent ascension as the new viceroy of New Spain, had been a skilled captain-general and admiral of the flotas that went to and from Seville. He had couched his public disapproval of de Viamonte in terms of the man's conventional and uninspired policies, of not having the dynamism necessary to a position as trying and so wanting bold action as the governorship of Cuba. Privately, he made no secret of loathing the infirmity and inwardness of de Viamonte, and so, was only more resentful of the man's quiet resistance to de Armendáriz's attempts at bullying concessions out of him regarding the equipage and provisioning of his various flotas, and Havana's defenses.
Fadrique shifted in his chair impatiently. "So, then, what news, Don de Viamonte?"
"I will learn it along with you, my good Don de Toledo. De Covilla here is just off the advice _patache_ this morning and we have not had the time to talk."
Fadrique turned to the young fellow, who nodded his respect again, as he had upon meeting Fadrique. He glanced back at the captain-general. "Then, sir, with your leave—"
"By all means, Eugenio. Please share the messages from His Excellency Governor Gamboa."
De Covilla smoothed his vest, put aside his wine, and folded his hands. "First, he sends his compliments and greetings to you, Don de Viamonte, and especially commends your speedy and bold decision to send three ships as couriers to Spain as soon as you received news of the battle in the Grenada Passage."
_Bold indeed_ , Fadrique reaffirmed silently. Olivares was renowned for confusing those who alerted him to bad news with being the causes of that news. De Viamonte might have a frail body, but he had courage enough for any five men to send prompt news without flinching or second thoughts. A pity that Spain tended to push aside or pillory those loyal and imprudent enough to do their duty even when it was sure to anger Olivares.
De Covilla had not paused. "He also confers his approval of your initiative to restore the shipyards here in Santo Domingo to full production capacity. He has followed your example and given identical orders to the shipyards on Cuba. He has also exhorted, in the strongest possible language, that the new viceroy of New Spain, Don Lope Díez de Aux de Armendáriz, and the viceroy of Peru, Don Luis Jerónimo Fernández de Cabrera Bobadilla Cerda y Mendoza, follow similar programs of reinstating their shipbuilding industries at their maximum level of production."
Fadrique tried not to look dubious or disgusted. Armendáriz, while capable, was also known to be self-interested, secretive, and, it was rumored, perverse in his affiliations and actions. He might trouble himself to become part of the solution to the growing Protestant threat in the New World, but he was just as likely to allow the regions most directly influenced to bear the brunt of the expenses. The only reason to have strong hopes otherwise was that Armendáriz, a __criollo__ from Quito, had made his name in the world by commanding the flotas. He, as well as any man alive, was likely to fully understand just how disastrous any loss in control or security of the sea-lanes would be to the fate of all of Spain's New World possessions. And whereas Peru's Don de Cabrera was a reliable fellow, he was stuck on the other side of South America: a strange place from which to govern the affairs of Cartagena and the majority of Tierra Firma, but that was Spanish governance for you. Getting a timely message to him, and getting his authorizing response, would be the biggest problem, and represented a considerable delay.
"Last, he agrees with you that, as practicable, we should identify all recent wrecks in shallow waters and commence salvage operations at once. He has already contracted two masters of intercoastal trading ships to undertake this activity."
Álvarez de Toledo leaned forward. "What is this? You are sending diving bells down to wrecks, now? For coin to pay for the shipbuilding?"
But Don Juan Bitrian de Viamonte shook his high-domed head. "No, Don Álvarez, for cannons, balls, and if they are still serviceable, the very nails themselves." He continued when Fadrique's expression showed his increasing perplexity. "Don Álvarez, we may lose men to accident and high weather during salvage operations, yes. But, God save me that I must say so, we have no shortage of men. However, what of the ironmongery with which we must build and outfit the ships that we are even now commissioning in our yards? And of the armaments which we must provide for them?" He shook his head sadly. "These objects are our new wealth, my dear Álvarez de Toledo. For we have no capacity to make such objects ourselves, and if Olivares does not send them to us in considerable bulk, all our efforts to build a fleet here shall come to naught. We have no choice but to find and refurbish that which we have already lost once."
Fadrique nodded, realized his eyes had opened wide, and simply did not care that his admiration for the wizened little man was so frank. By God, if one of every ten Spaniards had both his clear mind and gigantic _cojones_ , their empire would cover every inch of the globe. "As you say, these are our new wealth, Don de Viamonte."
De Covilla had turned his body as well as his head to face Fadrique. "His Excellency Francisco Riaño y Gamboa is glad to welcome you to the New World and of course wishes it might have been under better circumstances. However, he is extremely glad that you were present to manage the scope of the difficulties that befell our fleet in the Grenada Passage, commends you for your prudence in saving as many ships as you did, and for taking steps to distribute intelligence of our new enemies not only to himself and Don de Viamonte, but to Governor de Murga in Cartagena."
"His Excellency is a kind man, to thank me for losing a battle."
"He does not see it so, Don Álvarez de Toledo. However, he anticipated that you might be just so harsh with yourself. So he bade me communicate to you how he perceived the outcome of the most recent battle. It may be that the unfortunate Admiral de Cárdenas split your fleet in the face of the enemy for the wrong reasons—for how often is such a stratagem a good one?—but the governor observed that it was nonetheless a fortunate choice. Because had all of your fleet engaged the USE steamships, far fewer of our ships would have returned home. Conversely, had you all sailed together against the Dutch, it seems most certain that the outcome would have been worse still. The USE steamships are, by your report, so swift that they would have taken your fleet in the flank, which, constrained by having engaged the Dutch van, would have been destroyed in bunches. It is difficult to see, therefore, any other course than the one you chose once Admiral de Cárdenas had fallen: to salvage what you might, and quickly.
"So, in consideration of that wisdom, and your many past successes, His Excellency wishes you to know most explicitly that you have his full confidence. And furthermore, that you have full authority to do whatever is necessary to rebuild the Armada de Barlovento, which we must now presume is truly and permanently lost, and to fashion a strategy which allows us to defeat our new foes. His Excellency the Governor is keenly interested in any actions you take in these regards, and asks to be informed of them at once, Admiral, so he may mobilize any local support your initiatives might require."
Fadrique hadn't heard the last part of de Covilla's courtly summary of Gamboa's message. "Did you call me 'Admiral?'"
De Covilla smiled and nodded. "The governor has so ordered your promotion to full admiral, to replace the fallen de Cárdenas. He emphasized, several times, that he was most glad to have you close at hand for this important duty." De Covilla paused and met Fadrique's gaze steadily. "Most especially glad."
_Ah, so a special nod from the old boy in Havana._ Fadrique interpreted the subtext of Gamboa's repeated emphasis on both his gratitude and relief, which translated roughly as: _Thank God we are no longer saddled with a_ poseur _such as de Cárdenas. Now we professional soldiers can get to work._
De Covilla's next comment also confirmed Fadrique's assessment that Gamboa's natural impulse was to take decisive, practical steps against the new threat. "His Excellency has also taken it upon himself, and his own authority, to directly call upon the other ship-building towns of the New World to contribute their efforts to build a more credible local fleet." _Going over the head of the viceroys to get fast action? Gamboa's sense of urgency is obviously much greater than his reluctance to make powerful new enemies._ "Accordingly, His Excellency has dispatched advice _patache_ s and barca-longas to deliver his vigorous encouragements and exhortations _directly_ to the mayors and shipyard masters at Salvaleón de Higüy, San Juan, San Germán, Veracruz, Campeche, Jamaica, Cartagena, Maracaibo, and Caracas. He welcomes Admiral Álvarez de Toledo to add to that list, or make specific recommendations, of course."
Fadrique nodded. "In Maracaibo and Campeche, you must restrict the shipbuilding to small hulls with shallow draughts. Maracaibo has shifting sandbars and Campeche's harbor is too shallow for big ships. And I suggest one further proviso. When we are building warships, we must begin to increasingly adopt the frigate designs that the Swedes and Dutch have been producing for almost two years now."
"I beg your pardon, did you say _fragata_?"
"I did not. I do _not_ mean our small versions of these craft, but the larger brig- and barquentine-sized hulls that have no perceptible quarterdeck and but a single gun deck. They should be of about one hundred tonneladas and between twenty and thirty guns, total."
De Covilla frowned. "That may not be received well in Seville, Don Álvarez de Toledo. While the smaller _fragatas_ are not so large nor a sizable investment, the class of ship you are asking for will be almost as long and expensive to build as a small galleon. And our craftsmen are not familiar with the design. They would need to be taught."
"In Havana, they are familiar enough with similar designs. And in the other yards, they may be taught. Let us be plain about what Olivares and the Royal Council of the Indies are interested in: getting gold and silver from the New World. To do that, they want to ensure that we have enough high-pooped, heavy-hulled galleons to wallow safely up and down the waves of the Atlantic and so bring the treasure to Seville. That has been a reasonable strategy. Until now."
Fadrique leaned forward. "Formerly, it did not matter if our ships were less maneuverable than theirs, were slow as scows if they lacked a following wind, had quarterdecks so high that they are a constant drag upon the hull as it strives forward against the sea and the air. We had the advantage of numbers, of size, of immense steady platforms from which to fire our immense cannons, and of those high fore and aft castles crowded with our infantry. Our galleons were forts upon the sea, and none could assail them with impunity."
De Toledo jabbed his finger down into the tabletop, the sharp _clack!_ drawing attention to the moment. "But now, size is no longer decisive. Even without the up-time ships to support them, the Dutch and the Swedes are producing ships—frigates—with sleeker lines, mixed rigging, a long, low profile, and heavier guns. They are not capable of absorbing as much damage as our galleons, but being swift, they are hit far less often. And, again because they are swift, our advantage in numbers is no longer decisive. They can outmaneuver us and herd us into clusters, bringing almost their full force to bear upon each isolated group in turn. And so, through cunning maneuver, they may contrive to outnumber us at every point of contact, even though we may outnumber them, total hulls to total hulls."
"Well," soothed de Covilla, "regardless of how many changes Count-Duke Olivares is willing to approve, I suspect that he will not bridle at their mere suggestion. Don Lope Díez de Aux de Armendáriz, Viceroy of New Spain, who departed shortly after I arrived in Havana, took the opportunity to recount, at length and in detail, the mood in the Council of the Indies earlier this year. I am pleased to say it is most aggressive in regard to the foreign violation of our _inter caetera_ rights in general, and to the Dutch seizure of Curaçao in particular."
"Indeed," de Viamonte murmured. "Please do recount the viceroy's words in as great a detail as you might recall." The captain-general's tone suggested he was not looking for information or revelations so much as he was searching for a weakness, a gaffe, a misstep on the part of de Armendáriz.
De Covilla heard the tone as well; he inclined his head to study some notes he had brought with him. "According to Don Lope Díez de Aux de Armendáriz, he was invited to observe the proceedings of a 'granda junta' of the council. It was attended by the councils of State and War, as well, and was presided over by none other than Don Gaspar de Guzmán y Pimentel Ribera y Velasco de Tovar, comte d'Olivares et duc de Sanlucar la Mayor, himself.
"The count-duke initiated the proceedings by explaining, at some length, that the Dutch capture of Curaçao might endanger, or at least delay, the sailing of this year's treasure fleet, if Thijssen proved highly active in raiding along Tierra Firma. That has not materialized, although the new threats we have discovered more than compensate for the dangers and losses with which Thijssen failed to present us. However, regardless of whatever might have transpired this year, Count-Duke Olivares averred that a Dutch presence at Curaçao was inevitably a springboard for further Dutch raiding along Tierra Firma and further island seizures in the Caribbean. He called for many forms of assistance, including Portuguese ships added to our own, but in particular, maintained that the Armada de Barlovento, or Windward fleet, needed dramatic expansion. The four galleons he believed her to possess as that time were to be increased to eighteen within two years' time."
"So perhaps he is already planning to authorize a full renewal of shipbuilding here in the New World?" Fadrique inquired hopefully.
"Frankly, the viceroy made it sound more as though the count-duke saw this increased need for hulls as a windfall for the yards in Vizcaya. However, given the recent losses here in the New World, I suspect that, for now at least, any increase in the size of our fleet will be a welcome development in his eyes, regardless of where the ships are built."
"So you think he will be, er, open-minded, about the special measures we have taken to address the current crisis?"
"He might well be. The count-duke was quite explicit about the finality of the war he wished prosecuted against those who trespass upon His Majesty's lands, or who threaten their safety. He repeatedly referred to the Dutch as faithless rebels and heretics and, because they were, that they should be slaughtered when captured."
De Viamonte's eyes widened slightly. "And both the Council of the Indies and the Council of War permitted that policy?"
De Covilla nodded slightly. "Don Lope Díez de Aux de Armendáriz did mention that there was worry in the chamber that the Dutch would simply retaliate by massacring the crews of Spanish vessels they intercepted in the Caribbean. Olivares was unmoved, and simply reiterated his insistence that Dutch prisoners be killed in any way expedient, at any time it was convenient for Spanish commanders to do so."
Fadrique could not keep himself from blinking in surprise. "This is not well-considered," he murmured. Which was hardly a surprise in and of itself. Olivares had become increasingly injudicious in recent years, and anything remotely touching upon the Dutch and the interminable problems spawned by the wars in, or troubles pertaining to, the Spanish presence in the Lowlands, excited him to excesses of anger and ready vengeance. "But I think it makes it all the more wise that his Excellency Captain-General Gamboa took such extraordinary steps in establishing our own fleet, here in the New World."
"And why is that, Don Álvarez de Toledo?"
"Because," Fadrique said, drawing his wine a bit closer, "if we do not take matters into our own hands, and find answers that we may vouchsafe with own labor and treasure, then Olivares will do what he's best at: increase our taxes to pay for our own defensive fleet. Which he will likely have built in Spain, where it is easier for him to 'manage' the funds." Álvarez de Toledo sneered openly. "The last time he increased taxes in the New World, I think he almost doubled the New Spain _alcabala_ sales tariff. It was an unmitigated disaster. The money went to Spain, and in exchange, we received an undersized shipment of new weapons and ships, along with a veritable army of the count-duke's current flatterers and sycophants. And from what I could tell, it was their especial job to oversee the utilization and distribution of the scant and shoddy resources Olivares had sent, along with ensuring that the collection of the additional tariff continued." Fadrique had meant to take a sip of his wine, but now gulped at it angrily and set it down with a loud clack. "We cannot afford the pointless cost of Olivares' infinitude of sinecures in our coming struggle against the Dutch and their new allies. And we must prosecute that war sooner, rather than later."
"Why?" wondered de Viamonte, frowning.
"Because they will waste no time attacking us again. We suffered the losses, not they. We have slower communications, if we may conjecture that they are making some use of radio. And yet we have a much greater area and more far-flung units to coordinate than they do. Our size has often made us powerful, but against these adversaries, I fear it simply makes us ponderous. This is why we must have faster ships."
Don de Viamonte smiled wistfully. "And up-time radios, too, perhaps?"
"You may have meant that as an irony, Captain-General, but I am deadly serious when I say I would give ten galleons for five radios and their operators." Fadrique spread his hands. "Our empire's size is, in many ways, a disadvantage, if we cannot coordinate its far-flung locales and assets properly. Imagine twenty oxen, tied together in no particular fashion by a clutter of ropes. Their immense power is useless because it is not focused. Now imagine only four oxen in paired yokes, all following the same lead-line. They provide much less raw power, yes, but they can get many times more work done, because they are all pulling in the same direction, all answering to one will and voice. This is precisely the difference between us and our foes. With their steam speed and radios, their much smaller numbers will defeat us almost every time."
"Then what is to be done?"
Could he really not see? "Build faster ships. Get radios. Find alternatives to reduce or eliminate our handicaps. Ensure that we have strong, consistent, central leadership. And remain mindful that they hope to strike us severe blows—mortal, if possible—before we can find their primary base. For once we do, we may bring all our force to bear upon what must be a fairly weak port. Their largest colony, Recife, they abandoned. How much could they have built since? A few ramparts, a few dozen houses? They have no Havanas, no Cartagenas, and they know that we are well aware of that. So they will attack us as quickly as they might, to preemptively protect whatever base and settlement they are operating out of."
"And where do you think that might be, Admiral?" de Covilla asked, leaning forward intently. "Curaçao?"
Fadrique shrugged. "That is a logical location, but I am not convinced it is correct. Not at all."
De Viamonte emphasized his single-syllable question by attenuating it. "Why?"
"Because if it is Tromp who engaged us at the Grenada Passage, and I think it was, then Curaçao is exactly where we would expect to find him, after he abandoned Recife. But siting himself so close to so many of our cities along Tierra Firma, it would be almost an invitation to us to attempt to mass against him, to beat him back into that island's well-protected harbor, no matter the cost. And then we would land our troops at all points of its tiny coastline and destroy him and his colony like burning a badger in its hole. Clearly, they cannot have any significant fortifications thrown up yet, nor supplies to resist a siege, so no matter how numerous his soldiers might be, they would ultimately succumb."
De Viamonte mused before answering. "So he would go someplace he is not likely to be found?"
"Quite possibly. Tell me, when was the last time you sent a patrol to see what was going on in the islands we do not visit frequently?"
De Viamonte's voice was reedy. "Alas, before it disappeared last year, that was a significant part of the Armada de Barlovento's mission. So it remains unaccomplished."
"Hmm. I wonder. Perhaps that part of their mission, is, in fact, the one thing that they _did_ accomplish."
The captain-general, who had modest reserves of stamina at best, looked more weary by the minute. "I do not understand."
"Let us consider what we last knew about the Armada de Barlovento, and what is unusual about its disappearance." Fadrique folded his hands and leaned forward. "First, is it not strange that _all_ four ships of the Armada de Barlovento should disappear? Even in a terrible defeat, usually one or two hulls escape, live to tell the tale. And that is usually what occurs because you typically meet an enemy without warning, in a place neither of you had thought to meet another ship at all."
"So, you suspect an ambush?"
"Of a sort. Let us suppose that, rather than joining Thijssen in Curaçao, Tromp chose instead a safe port where he hoped to hide, a place farther from the regular route of our flotas."
Fadrique saw de Covilla's eyes widen slightly. A smart lad, evidently. "Tromp would keep a watch on the approaches to such a port, with his own ships ready to trap any others that discovered his anchorage so they could not escape to report."
"Precisely. Now there is no guarantee that this is why all four ships are missing. Storms claim whole fleets, on occasion, and we have little news of it if the high weather comes and goes where our flag does not regularly fly."
De Viamonte shook his head. "So how would you propose to determine if our ships were the victims of an ambush, and furthermore, where Tromp's secret anchorage might be? The Caribbean is a wide sea, and, if your earlier comments about an impending Dutch attack are correct, we may not have enough time to send _patache_ s to its far corners."
De Covilla cleared his throat. "There may be another way. Though I am loath to suggest it."
Fadrique frowned. "Come now, young fellow, it is the honor of Spain and our king we are trying to save, here."
"It is the honor of Spain and our king that I mean to protect by _not_ suggesting what I just conceived, Don Álvarez de Toledo."
Fadrique narrowed his eyes, nodded. "I think I understand what expedient you may be considering, and your repugnance of it. But you are right: it answers our need. And may show the way forward to meet other challenges, as well."
De Viamonte, who was usually a most astute man, sounded very puzzled and slightly annoyed. "I should be most grateful if you two gentlemen would stop speaking in a code known to you alone, apparently. What solution have you conceived that might answer our need for scouting more widely, Eugenio?"
"Don de Viamonte, I am ashamed to say it, but in the time that I coordinated the activities of the raiders commanded by the bandit Barto, I learned that others of his ilk, the so called Free Companions, range far and wide. Which we knew, of course. But it is also true that there are havens, also suspected by us, where they convene. In these places, they trade their ill-gotten goods, ply themselves with drink, satiate their appetite for women, and share their tales, many of which are fanciful fabrications, but many of which are true. Many of which would therefore include recent intelligences on the ships and powers of rivals and nations. Which might very well include word of the Dutch."
De Viamonte leaned back, his nostrils pinching tight as if he were smelling the reek of such a den of debauchery. But he stiffened and nodded. "You are right, of course. In both regards. It is a vile alternative. And it is also the only one which may provide us the necessary information in time. You have my leave to send agents amongst them, and to let it be known that we would deign to speak with them in our ports. Where we will trade hard silver for information. Although, I fear that many will come to tell us lies we cannot disprove and depart with silver we cannot withhold."
"Not if we make it worth their while to tell the truth," mumbled Fadrique.
"And how should we do that, sir?"
"By offering them ten times as much if they sail with us to plunder the Dutch in their ports and take their fine ships."
"We should _recruit_ them?" de Viamonte almost gasped.
"From what young Don de Covilla has said, it sounds as though you already have, once. But if we need to act quickly—and we do—and we need to have eyes, ears, and eventually guns in many places at the same time—which we will—then I fail to see how we can exclude this expedient."
"And we are to let them plunder the Dutch settlements?"
"Is that so much worse than following Olivares' orders to exterminate the Dutch wherever we find them? The pirates may choose to show them mercy, or not. We, on the other hand—" Fadrique let the sentence dangle unfinished, felt sure that a noble soul like de Viamonte's would choose an alternative that afforded some hope for civilians to survive over the ineluctable alternative of being their black-hooded executioner.
De Viamonte did not disappoint him. "But we will still need to control these 'free companions,' somehow."
"They were manageable when promised letters of marque," de Covilla pointed out.
"And so we legitimize their barbarism," the captain-general spat.
"As Olivares has legitimized ours," observed Fadrique.
De Viamonte seemed to hug his withered arm close, shivered as though suffering a chill. "This war will come to no good end," he predicted.
"That is most likely," agreed Fadrique Álvarez de Toledo.
**_Oranjestad, St. Eustatia_**
The rude-planked coffin, draped by a Danish pennant, was lifted out of the skiff by six Danes from the crew of the _Serendipity_. With Gjedde in front and Eddie Cantrell following behind, they made their way slowly past the assembled on-lookers, who numbered close to two hundred, and toward Edel Mund. She stood straight and stiff and very alone at the foot of the west-facing walls of Fort Oranjestad. They marched directly toward her and the Dutch soldiers flanking her on either side.
As the casket arrived before her, the procession stopped. The Dutch troopers raised their already-drawn swords, a wave of silver streaks catching the gold of the late morning sun even as they glinted silver. Then the six men carrying the casket marched through a slow pivot of ninety degrees and paused in that profile position, motionless before Pros Mund's pale widow. After a thirty count, and at Gjedde's gesture, they resumed their slow march, Eddie lagging so that dry-eyed Edel Mund could fall in directly behind the coffin as it made its stately way to the town's humble church.
Maarten Tromp had considered offering his services as a deacon to Reverend Polhemius but had ultimately decided against it. There were too many ways such an act could be misinterpreted: as being intrusive, as a Dutchman taking a place that should logically belong to a Dane with a similar calling, as having the humility of the act perceived as ingenuine. Any and all of which would only call attention away from the man who was rightly the center of reflection, appreciation, and mourning in this, his last hour among the persons he had left behind.
Edel and a few crewmembers made their way into the church, followed by a large number of ladies led by the three who had come from Christian IV's own court: his two daughters and the tall Sophie Rantzau. At the same moment, Tromp noticed Jan van Walbeeck sidling up to him where they stood under a pavilion outside the church, along with the others who had come to pay their respects to a man they had hardly known.
Van Walbeeck looked about surreptitiously. "You've chosen an auspicious spot for the ceremony, Maarten."
"Have I? The shade is no better or worse here than anywhere else."
"True enough. But I mean that we are standing so far to the rear that we may speak—quietly, of course—without being overheard."
Tromp glared at van Walbeeck. "Jan, I know you are not a conventionally devout man, but this is—well, it is disrespectful to the deceased and our Lord, alike."
Jan winced, shrugged. "I suppose that is true. But I also suppose we may have no other time to discuss matters relevant to the meeting later this afternoon."
Maarten sighed, unhappy. Because, as usual, Jan van Walbeeck was right. Having arrived in port in the late hours of the middle watch, the ships that had returned from Trinidad remained steadily busy until well after breakfast. The few wounded were transferred ashore; the Spanish prize hulls were brought to secure anchorages near the beaches at which they might be safely careened. Secure arrangements ashore were worked out for the half dozen Spanish prisoners they had retained for purposes of debriefing. And of course, the burial of Reconnaissance Flotilla X-Ray's slain commander had to be hastily arranged.
And so, when Maarten Tromp exited the ketch that brought the senior officers to shore in the wake of the funeral skiff, that was the first he had seen of Jan van Walbeeck since departing Oranjestad for Trinidad.
As Polhemius' almost quavering voice called the mourners to their first devotions, the two Dutchmen folded their hands solemnly and leaned toward each other. Van Walbeeck started their whispered exchange. "I notice that Houtebeen Jol is not here. Have you done away with him, or has that great heathen foresworn even his face-saving attendance at funerals and weddings?"
"Neither. And I could ask you the same thing about Joost van Banckert's absence, which is stranger still, since he is a reasonably pious man."
"That he is, but we must have someone ready aboard a flagship to lead the fleet if the Spanish should discover us this hour."
Tromp allowed that this was quite true and quite prudent. "Jol is actually doing much the same thing."
"Protecting us from possible attack?"
"No, but readying his new ship and squadron to weigh anchor and make for Trinidad."
"So soon?"
"I wish it could have been sooner. We could only leave three ships there: _Achilles_ , _Vereenigte Provintien_ , and _Amsterdam_."
"And is Simonszoon in charge down there?"
"I couldn't spare him. I had to leave the Trinidad squadron in the hands of Hjalmar von Holst. A solid man, and clever enough, but not as brilliant and, er, unconventional, as Simonszoon."
"And so now you are sending that old pirate, Jol."
"Yes. He'll take over command from von Holst, who will be an excellent second-in-command. And Houtebeen will be bringing more ships with him to strengthen our Trinidad squadron: _Sampson_ , _Overijssel_ , _Thetis_ , the fluyt _Koninck David_ , and the jachts _Leeuwinne_ and _Noordsterre_. They are escorting the Danish transport _Patentia_ , which is carrying the balance of the oil drilling gear, along with that clean-lined bark of theirs, the _Tropic Surveyor_."
"Quite a formidable fleet."
Tromp forgot himself and grunted diffidently. Two Dutch women turned and stared at him. He smiled apologetically, took another half step back. Van Walbeeck followed, smiling. "So, _not_ a formidable fleet, then?"
"Not if de Murga in Cartagena manages to wring any significant cooperation from the other _audiencias_ along Tierra Firma. If he does, he could raise a considerable armada, easily twice the size of what we will have in Trinidad."
Tromp could tell from van Walbeeck's long, silent consideration of this information that he was trying to conceal both his surprise and reservations. His voice was measured and tactful when he finally commented, "Hm. Jol is a good man, but I am still puzzled that you haven't sent Dirck, and more ships, to guard the oil."
Tromp nodded as much of an agreement as their presence at a public funeral allowed. "I can see why you might be puzzled. But no one knows that coast like Peg Leg Jol. And he has the trust of a number of vehemently anti-Spanish reivers that prowl those waters. Not that he or I would ever trust them as dedicated allies, but they are free enough with information if they think sharing it will hurt the Spanish. So Jol's relationship with them gives us a means of remaining at least partially apprised of what our enemy is up to. Quite possibly, they might give us advance word of any move against Trinidad or Curaçao." Tromp paused. "But, that's only half the reason I'm sending Houtebeen down there."
"Or perhaps you mean to say, 'keeping Simonszoon up here'?"
Tromp smiled. "There's no fooling you, Jan. Yes. I want, _need_ , to keep Simonszoon up here. For the good of the fleet. By which I mean the whole fleet, ours and that of our allies."
"I don't understand," van Walbeeck whispered as, in response to an invocation from Polhemius, the mourners lowered their heads in silent prayer.
Tromp did not explain until the reverend resumed the liturgy. "With Pros Mund dead, and seeing that we need to find a way for our very different forces to work together more effectively, we must rethink both our command structures and tactical doctrines. To make our combined fleet a unified implement of naval warfare, we must carefully assess how to amplify its tremendous advantages and reduce its unusual weaknesses. And at the center of all those efforts is Eddie, er, Commander Cantrell. He understands our down-time principles of naval warfare well enough, but more importantly, he is the only one who understands the up-time technologies and doctrines thoroughly. He must be the liaison, and translator, even, between our two different naval traditions."
Van Walbeeck only looked more confused. "And so? For this he needs Simonszoon alongside him?"
"In fact, yes, he does."
"Again, I do not understand."
Tromp smiled. "That is because, after your years before the mast, you became a governor, not an admiral. It is all well and good to say that Eddie must bring these two doctrines of warfare, and training, together into a functional whole, but it is quite another thing to achieve it. Think of who his students will be: young captains commanding ships or ambitious first mates. All of them will be more senior than he is and are unlikely to be able to get past the galling fact that the twenty-three-year-old teaching them has one tenth their combat experience and one-one-hundredth of their sailing experience. How effective do you expect his 'instruction' will be to such a class as that?"
Van Walbeeck nodded. "Ah. Now I see. So Dirck Simonszoon, the most laconic and facetious of all our captains, shall be present in the class as well, showing Eddie deference and paying serious heed to his instruction. And thereby, setting an example the others will tend to follow. An excellent plan. But I have one question about Dirck: _will_ he show Cantrell that deference?"
"Strangely, I am quite certain he will. You know Dirck almost as well as I do, and you've seen what makes him bristle, and what doesn't. He is temperamentally incapable of suffering fools. And the more such a fool tries to justify or defend his foolishness, the more arch and combative Dirck becomes." Tromp shifted his stance, changed his hands so that his left was now folded over his right. The first notes of a hymn wafted out of the church and were taken up irregularly by those gathered outside. "But Dirck took to young Cantrell right away. I suppose Dirck's temperament is like a coin, furnished with two opposite sides. Whereas he is harshly impatient with people he considers slow-witted, he seems charmed and protective of those he considers quite clever. And you have seen for yourself that young Cantrell is quite clever, indeed."
"And refreshingly modest, too," van Walbeeck added. "So, with Dirck sitting as a respectful pupil in young Cantrell's classes, our young officers transfer the respect they feel for the revered and feared Captain Simonszoon to Eddie himself, and so, they will not challenge him. Which we cannot afford them to do."
"Eddie cannot afford it either," Tromp added quickly, "since he will almost certainly now be first among the Danish and USE commanders that remain."
"What of Gjedde?"
Tromp frowned, thinking. "Both by temperament and orders, I suspect that Gjedde is here as both a mentor and a hand on the reins with which the Danish throne means to govern the progress of Cantrell. Gjedde himself has never sought war-time commands, and is quite vocal about preferring exploration. He will, I think, maintain his current position as Eddie's titular superior, but will not exert that authority except where the young commander may be making a misstep."
Van Walbeeck's sigh suggested he was not fully convinced of the workability of such a scheme. "And what of the other USE captains and junior officers in his flotilla? Will they be so willing to serve under so young a commander?"
"That," replied Maarten Tromp with his own sigh as Polhemius called for the concluding hymn, "is something over which I have no control, Jan. Now let us be first in line to offer our condolences to Lady Mund. That will allow us to be first to leave, and so, the first to arrive for the general meeting."
After looking around at the commanders and councilors who had been called to the meeting, Pieter van Corselles, the original governor of the first Oranjestad colony (and who had since been side-shifted into the post of Superintendent for the Dutch West India Company), shook his head in disbelief. "So after a year of hiding, now we are to make ourselves known? By launching an attack against the Spanish? From here?"
"That is correct, Superintendent Corselles." Jan van Walbeeck said with a mild nod.
"But it will bring them here in droves! It will mean our certain destruction!"
"Actually, if we do _not_ attack the Spanish, it will mean our certain destruction. If we do not seek them out and cripple their main fleet, then they will eventually find and engage us here. That is not merely tactically unwise, it is strategically unacceptable."
"I do not disagree with your conclusion," Hannibal Sehested commented, "but I would welcome an explication of your reasoning in the matter."
Tromp nodded. "Certainly. Although I should begin by saying that the two senior commanders in each of our fleets—myself and Adrian Banckert for us, and Captain Gjedde and Commander Cantrell for you—are unanimous that we have no reasonable alternative." Tromp stood and put his finger on the up-time map of the Caribbean, planting it firmly upon St. Eustatia. "Note our position. We are near what you might call the pelagic elbow of the Caribbean. From here, the Greater Antilles stretch westward to Cuba, and the Lesser Antilles drop all the way down to Grenada. Until now, our island has been a relatively remote and, to the Spanish, uninteresting location. Prior to the four ships they sent south from St. Maarten's last year, they had not bothered to examine any of the Lesser Antilles islands since Fadrique Álvarez de Toledo led forty ships on a campaign of expulsion and extermination from St. Croix southward in 1629, thereby enforcing Spain's _inter caetera_ claim to all lands west of the Tordesillas Line."
Tromp moved his finger to Puerto Rico, then Hispaniola, and finally Cuba. "Perhaps all these nearby places of considerable Spanish power embolden them to think that no one is mighty enough, or,"—he smiled—"idiotic enough to decamp so close to them, here in the northern extents of the Lesser Antilles." His finger drew an arc from Saba, through St. Eustatia and St. Christopher down to Nevis. "And yet, here we all are."
"All us idiots," Simonszoon growled. He almost grinned when his comment elicited a few equally sardonic laughs.
Tromp merely smiled. "Whether it is foolishness or fate that has brought us here is, for the moment, a debate we need not have. Rather, we must ask: after their defeat at the Grenada Passage, what will the Spanish do now?"
**_Fort Oranjestad, St. Eustatia_**
Corselles, who was neither a seaman nor a soldier, gestured to the great blue expanse of the map on the table. "Why, it is obvious what the Spanish will do next. They will look for us all over. Relentlessly. Our only consolation is that finding us could take many months, maybe another year."
Tromp shook his head. "No. It will not."
"But why?"
Eddie leaned forward. "Because the Spanish that got away from the Grenada Passage brought back information that will help their bosses in Havana and Santo Domingo know where, and where not, to look for the ships that beat them up."
"What information would that be?" asked Sehested, studying the map as if seeing it anew.
Eddie shrugged. "Well, for starters, the mere fact that two immense USE steam cruisers were in the fight means a new team has slipped into the Caribbean. And given that our ships would have come out of the Baltic, they've probably got a pretty good guess at our course across the Atlantic. They will correctly guess that we entered the local swimming pool someplace very near that island-elbow Admiral Tromp was pointing out a minute ago.
"Which means that, unless we happened to stumble across Admiral Tromp's ships right before the battle, and by accident, we were already operating in coordination with a Dutch fleet. And I'm pretty sure they'll know the Dutch fleet they tangled with is not Thijssen's fleet from Curaçao, but the one that abandoned Recife."
"And how would they know that?" Corselles wondered in an almost desperate tone.
"First, the number of ships. As I understand it, Thijssen took Curaçao with just four, and that was the last expedition the United Provinces were able to mount. Next, how would Thijssen, sitting at the middle of the Spanish Main, have learned that we were going to be at Trinidad? And what reason would he have to come out and meet up with us? And how did all that happen just in time to catch a southbound Spanish fleet that he had no reason to suspect was headed toward Tierra Firma?" Eddie leaned back and shook his head. "As the guys in Havana start to put together those facts, and consider the other reports they must be receiving, they're going to become increasingly convinced that it couldn't have been Thijssen they met in the Grenada Passage."
"What other reports?" Sehested asked.
"Well, take the report that they'll get regarding the earl of Tyrconnell's raid on Puerto Cabello. The Spanish strategists would have to be pretty stupid not to interpret it as precisely what it was: a preemptive raid. By destroying their warehouses, we took out the provisioning for any fleet coming from Cartagena, thereby preventing it from joining the other fleet that was responding to our attack upon Trinidad. That is proof positive that there was widespread prior coordination between our forces before we engaged the Spanish off Grenada. Which in turn suggests that the attack on Trinidad was not simply a rogue event, but part of a much larger, well-considered operation."
Sehested nodded. "Which would logically mean, to them, that the wheels of this plan had been turning for half a year beforehand. Longer, since they must logically presume that our flotilla left Europe with the intent of arriving here at just the right time."
Eddie returned the nod. "Exactly. And how would Thijssen, whose base on Curacao is almost halfway to Cartagena, be able to get word of, and coordinate with, such a plan that far in advance? So, once they realize it wasn't him, they figure it can only be Admiral Tromp, who's been off their radar for more than a year. And when they start thinking about it, they'll start make some pretty predictable conjectures. Such as: 'Well, if that was Tromp in the Grenada Passage, then those couldn't have been all of his ships. Which means he has a base somewhere. Where he's been hiding out for a whole year. And if he's feeding even half of the people he evacuated from Recife, then he can't be in some uncharted Brazilian cove because they'd have starved to death by now. And he can't be anywhere on the Spanish Main because our garda-costa and trade traffic along there would have encountered him months ago, at the latest.' And so their eyes drift to a part of the map where there are islands with rapid access to European supply, have a history of excellent fertility, where they know there are still some non-Spanish settlements, and where they know the Dutch tried starting some of their own." Eddie dropped his finger so that it touched St. Eustatia and Saba.
"And then they start wondering about the four ships that went missing—and which you sank—just off Saba late last year. And so, they will eventually realize that all the hypothetical smoking guns are, in fact, pointing right about here." He pushed his finger into the map again. "Oh, they won't figure it out that quickly, because the information will come in dribs and drabs, and they will have to exchange emissaries and letters and speculations and share any reconnaissance results they get. But make no mistake, thir light ships will come here looking. And when they do, one of two things will happen. They'll either see us before we see them and live to report. Or we'll see them first, catch them, and sink them without a trace. But even so, that still sends a kind of message." He leaned back. "The first rule of reconnaissance is that if your scout doesn't come back to report, the odds are good that he found something. So then you send three scouts in a group to visit the area where the first scout disappeared. And when they don't come back, well—" Eddie ended with his hands upraised, the conclusion so obvious that he didn't need to articulate it. "Which is pretty much what they already saw happen with the four ships they sent south from St. Maarten."
"Very well, so the Spanish will find us," Corselles agreed with a nervous nod. "But how will attacking them now save us? They are located all across that map, with many places of power. Once they know of us, they will drive us into the sea. Effortlessly."
Van Walbeeck folded his hands. "Pieter, the Spanish are not the monolithic force they may often seem. I have made a close study of their structures of government here in the New World, much of it revealed by research available at Grantville, paradoxically. Here is what I may tell you. In addition to great difficulties and loss of time in communicating with each other across such vast distances, the viceroyalties and governorships and _audiencias_ are often rivals, striving to advance themselves at the expense of their neighbors. Knowing this, we may reasonably project the following:
"The greatest single power, the Viceroyalty of New Spain, is centered in Mexico. She is not particularly concerned with affairs in the Caribbean except and unless they impact her single overriding concern: the safety and reliability of the flota as her means of shipping gold and silver to Spain, and receiving supplies in return. She is slow to move and often sees Tierra Firma as a nuisance. Conversely, she traditionally perceives Havana as a competitor for preeminence and royal favor, since that city is the great shipbuilder and maritime defender of the region. But let us skip to a consideration of the Spanish power that is more likely to be concerned with maritime incursions: Cartagena, the closest naval power of any size."
"Not Caracas, and the _audiencias_ of Venezuela?"
Van Walbeeck interlaced his fingers. "I do not think so, simply because what little strength she has is continually focused upon her contention with mainland natives. However, although Cartagena will be the most concerned when it comes to our invasion of Trinidad, she may well be fickle or undependable in her responses to the implication of our broader presence in the Caribbean."
"Why?" asked Rik Bjelke, who had remained almost motionless beside Sehested until now. "I thought the governor there—er, de Murga?—was a most active man."
"He is, but he answers to the viceroy of Peru."
Rik seemed puzzled. "But Peru is—"
"On the other side of South America, yes. It is a curious arrangement, an artifact of historical flukes and no small amount of sinecure. However that may be, this will work to slow and limit Cartagena's response. And in turn, that means she will concentrate her forces strictly upon that which threatens her interests most directly: Trinidad. This was confirmed by the surviving captains of the vessels we took as prizes there, several of whom were brought here for further questioning."
Corselles' eyes became grim. "And the rest of the prisoners?"
Tromp waved a dismissive hand. "Back at Trinidad. On one of what are called the Five Islands, just a few miles offshore from Port-of-Spain. They are quite secure."
"Because the island is so remote?"
"That, and because the Nepoia natives have decided to watch it quite carefully. They are most determined not to allow any new Spanish to set foot on Trinidad."
"So," Sehested said, returning to the main topic, "you do not expect either New Spain's or Cartagena's fleets to aid any efforts made against us here, in the northern extents of the Lesser Antilles."
"Correct. For both of them, we can only be reached by a very long sail against the prevailing winds or currents. And for now, at least, we represent no threat to their livelihoods. However, in the case of Cuba and the islands that are her immediate satellites"—Tromp ran his finger to Havana and drifted it slowly eastward to touch Jamaica, Hispaniola, and Puerto Rico—"we must expect an aggressive response. We threaten them in a variety of ways, not the least of which is our ability to sail north and attempt to intercept the flota as it returns to Spain with the silver that keeps Madrid's bloated economy afloat."
"So, you are saying we need to mount a campaign against the entirety of the Greater Antilles?" Corselles looked as incredulous and horrified as he sounded.
Tromp moved toward the map again, shaking his head. "Not at all. We know where they will gather their strength for a strike against us. It is also the same port to which most of the fleet we defeated undoubtedly fled." He jabbed down at the south coast of Hispaniola. "Here. Santo Domingo."
Sehested stroked his goatee meditatively. "Why there?"
"Cuba is too far. Puerto Rico is too undeveloped, particularly on her south coast, and her north coast often has unfavorable winds. But Hispaniola is well-developed, has several large towns, and Santo Domingo has shipyards and quite respectable fortifications. Furthermore, although the prevailing winds there are contrary, they are milder than the breezes that come straight off the Atlantic on the northern coast, and her anchorage could easily accommodate a fleet as large as sixty, perhaps seventy hulls."
"And how far between Santo Domingo and St. Eustatia?"
"Approximately four hundred and fifty miles. Let us assume contrary conditions, with a forward progress of one knot. A fleet, sailing steadily, would still reach us in no more than three weeks. Let us say four weeks, if they touched at Puerto Rico and refrained from sailing on moonless nights. Let us say five weeks if they encounter high weather."
"But that is after they find us, and decide to gather a fleet to send against us," Corselles said hopefully.
Simonszoon shrugged. "Yes, but finding us might not take more than two weeks."
"But at one knot—"
"Superintendent Corselles," Simonszoon interrupted sharply, "you have no doubt noticed that our jachts travel much more speedily than our fluyts, particularly when the weather is unfavorable?"
Corselles looked indignant, but too intimidated to speak. He simply nodded.
"Well, the Spanish _patache_ s are akin to our jachts. Not so fast, not so agile, but they tack well and would be here in a week's time, easily. They could make it back to Santo Domingo in half that. So although it might take them six weeks to send a fleet here, their scouts could arrive much sooner than that."
"So we are to strike Santo Domingo," Sehested murmured. "To disable them before they may exterminate us."
"That is the gist of it," Tromp said with a nod.
"And how do you propose to protect Oranjestad, while you are off on this mission?" Corselles' eyes were large and bright. Eddie wondered if the man might be verging toward a breakdown. He hadn't been so anxious when the flotilla first arrived, but it almost seemed that, with relief and resupply finally at hand, his spirit was not pliable enough to face new risks and uncertainties. "And if we manage to defeat their fleet, won't the Spanish simply build another? How does this strategy furnish us with a lasting solution?"
Gjedde looked up. His voice sounded rough from disuse. "It is not a lasting solution. Nothing is. That is in the nature of contending nations. This stratagem answers the immediate threat and buys us time. But that time could be decisive. With the agreement forged between your Provinces and Brussels, you will soon have the renewed support of your homeland. The USE and my sovereign have established interests here, as well. You are no longer alone. Be consoled in this. It is a far brighter outlook than you had three months ago." He folded his hands and lowered his chin again.
Sehested nodded at this interjection and turned to Tromp. "However, there is another, more pressing danger in this stratagem. It means dividing our collective forces into three groups, does it not?"
Tromp sighed. "Yes. It is, unfortunately, unavoidable. We may not leave our forces and interests on Trinidad unguarded. Nor may we leave St. Eustatia without defenses. But we must carry the attack to Santo Domingo unless we are content to wait here until they overwhelm us, even with the up-time steamships."
Corselles' eyes had grown even larger. "So even your ships could not destroy all the Spanish hulls that might try attacking us here?"
Eddie shook his head. "No. They can't be every place at once, and we have a lot of strategic vulnerabilities that a knowledgeable enemy could exploit. The Spanish probably wouldn't even come straight at us. They might realize that our greatest vulnerability on this island is actually food, and so go after St. Christopher's instead, where we get our bulk provisioning. And then what do we do? Keep one steamship here, and send one there? And if they get a toehold on St. Christopher's, they can land troops there, and then try to get them across the channel at night. It's only eight miles, shore to shore." Eddie leaned back. "Look, if the Spanish are at all smart, they'll learn from the mistakes they're sure to make, and which—being Spain—they can easily afford. And once they've learned those lessons, then, even if they can't beat our steamships, they'll outflank us and take us on land. It might be a long fight for them, and it would be costly, but in the end, the only thing the Spanish wouldn't have beaten into submission are those two steam cruisers. And if those two ships have burned up their full supply of coal running back and forth, putting out fires—well, the wind can give us trouble just like anyone else. And we can run out of ammo just like anyone else, too."
"So you're saying your ships _aren't_ magic?" Simonszoon leaned over to smile at Eddie.
Eddie smiled back. "Damn," he play-acted, "I guess I let that secret slip." He shook his head seriously. "The fact of the matter is that our steamships are fundamentally offensive platforms. They are at their best when they are on the attack, not defense. And that means, among other things, that the attack on Santo Domingo is going to require more than just warships. We're going to need to bring a number of Dutch fluyts along with us. We're going to need to bring a lot of troops and a lot of supplies, because we can't just beat their fleet. We have to hit the city itself so hard that they can't use it any more. If we accomplish that, then their next closest reasonable base is on Cuba. That means that the next time they try to mount an offensive campaign against us here, they would have to project that force almost twice as far. That means a lot more ships, a lot more money, a lot more men to feed for a lot more weeks. And for us, that means a lot more time before they can mount that kind of offensive. And that's what we're playing for here: enough time for our side to send what we need to prevail."
Corselles looked slightly less nervous. "Very well, but do you really need the fluyts? I have seen these immense ships of yours, riding at anchor. Can they not carry proportionately greater numbers of our troops, of the needed supplies?"
Eddie smiled, shook his head. "Oddly, no. For those of you who have not been below decks on one of our steamships, you would probably find it a strange sight. In the place of throngs of men, there is a lot of machinery and even more supplies. We shoot much faster and so use far more ammunition. The steam engines must be fired by coal, or at least wood, which must be kept dry and handy in special fuel bunkers. We have radios, intraship speaking tubes, special areas and companionways reserved for the exchange of stores or for access to secondary systems, such as our condensers."
"Your what?"
"Condensers, Superintendent Corselles. We use them to convert sea water to fresh water."
"So you may enjoy a refreshing drink whenever you choose, on your voyages?" Corselles tone hadn't been derisive, but nor had it been entirely jocular. The laughter that rose up was genuine, but slightly strained.
Eddie joined in, chuckling. "Well, that is a side benefit, Superintendent Corselles. But the real reason we have the condensers is because you can't run steam engines on salt water. You have to have fresh water. But if you can tell me where to find some bubbling island springs in the middle of the Atlantic, maybe we can leave those condensers behind to help you with your water shortages here on St. Eustatia."
A little polite laughter followed Eddie's reply, but most importantly, he could see in the faces at the table, even Corselles', that he had made his two points. First, that fresh water was an operational necessity not an indulgence, and, second, that it was inadvisable to make jokes based on superficial assumptions.
Tromp leaned his fists on the table. "Although we will be meeting often as we move our plans for the attack on Santo Domingo forward, we do have one last matter that must be addressed now. Speaking as the nominal commander of our allied fleet, we must find a new captain for the _Resolve_ , and this means selecting a person who will learn the technologies of the ship, and its operation, quickly and well. The late Admiral Mund was schooled in this extensively at Luebeck, and personally witnessed much of _Resolve_ 's final construction. We cannot hope to duplicate that level of familiarity here, but we must have a captain. We must also have a larger staff of technical specialists, led by the _Intrepid_ 's executive officer Henrik Bjelke, ready to take the ship into battle. So, after polling my command staff, I consulted with the two senior officers of the USE and Danish flotilla, and we are unanimously resolved that the new captain should be Dirck Simonszoon."
Simonszoon groaned. "Oh, by all that's holy, Maarten. How could you do this to me?"
Tromp smiled. "I've seen you eyeing those guns, those engines, Dirck. And your sailing skill will be key, as well, since _Resolve_ only uses her steam engines when she's in combat."
Simonszoon shook his head. "First you took me off my yacht, and put me on a great scow of a warship. And now I am to move from commanding a mere giant to a full-blown leviathan? And with a mere Danish pup to tell me how to run the machines?"
Bjelke, who was not yet accustomed to Simonszoon's broad gibes, started.
Tromp only smiled more widely. "Dirck, you know very well that Rik has the necessary skills for both roles, since you've told me so yourself. Multiple times."
Rik looked as suddenly pleased as he had been suddenly dismayed. Simonszoon only looked annoyed at having had his better nature and opinions publicly revealed. "I was lying. And what of the matter of authority?"
"What do you mean?" asked Joost van Banckert.
"I mean that with Gjedde and Cantrell on _Intrepid_ , that puts both of the senior USE commanders on one ship, and none on the _Resolve_. How is that wise? And furthermore, by what authority am I to be in charge there? I am not a part of that flotilla. I serve Maarten Harpertszoon Tromp and the United Provinces, and in that order."
Sehested smoothed his mustache. "I fear the command situation is even more complicated than that, Captain Simonszoon. In the command ranks of our flotilla, Captain Gjedde is now the first senior officer. But arguably, Tryggve Stiernsköld, as a Swedish post captain, is next, and _then_ Commander Cantrell. By all rights, therefore, it should be Captain Stiernsköld who is the master of the second steam cruiser."
Eddie scanned the faces, ended upon Stiernsköld's; he was fairly sure what he read there, and that he had an accurate measure of that taciturn yet straightforward man. "Captain Stiernsköld, tell me, do you feel comfortable commanding one of the steam cruisers?"
Stiernsköld shook his head. "No," he said flatly.
Sehested started, stared between the two men as if seeking prior collusion and frowned when he saw there was none.
"Captain Stiernsköld," Eddie continued, "do you think you ever _will_ be comfortable commanding one?"
The Swede nodded. "Most certainly. Once I have received adequate training. But I have not. I am told I was included in the flotilla for my abilities with fast, mixed rig sailing vessels, such as the _Tropic Surveyor_. As you no doubt know, Commander Cantrell, I was only briefed on the steamships' capabilities so that I knew what they might do and how best to coordinate with them. I received no training in their operation."
Sehested leaned back, nodded. "Very well. You have made your point, Commander Cantrell, and most convincingly. I withdraw my reservations over the proper chain of command in the ships of the flotilla. But I still cannot countenance a foreign captain—even one so skilled and friendly to our cause as Captain Simonszoon—to be the master of _Resolve_."
Eddie rubbed his nose and schooled his voice to be apologetic yet firm. "Unfortunately, Lord Sehested, that objection is a bit beside the point."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Lord Sehested, so we all understand your position with complete clarity, who appointed you to the flotilla?"
Sehested's frown intensified as he spoke, seemed to be veering toward umbrage. "You know very well that it was your own father-in-law, Christian IV, who asked me to accompany this mission."
"Yes, but on what authority did he make that assignment?"
Sehested opened his mouth but shut it again, his eyes narrowing slightly. Clearly, he saw where this was heading. "He was exercising his prerogative as one of the sovereigns of the Union of Kalmar."
"Yes. Which is not a member of the United States of Europe, nor are any of its constituent powers. Now, the steam cruisers: to whom do they belong?"
"The United States of Europe—whose monarch is Gustav Adolf, who is also _primus inter pares_ among the monarchs of the Union of Kalmar."
"That is very true. But it is also quite a separate matter. Gustav Adolf may indeed dictate the actions of the USE in his role as its monarch, but not in his role as the king of Sweden or as the first-among-equals from the Union of Kalmar. Consequently, unless my understanding of the prerogatives that attach to these separate roles is in error, none of the Danish, or even Swedish, members of the flotilla may speak for, or presume authority possessed by, the USE. That would fall to individuals who are nationals of the USE, or who have been directly and explicitly named by Gustav Adolf of Sweden to be operating in its service."
"Such as yourself," van Walbeeck concluded, a slight grin hidden behind his hand, "on both counts."
Eddie shrugged. "It does so happen that I am the senior ranking representative of the USE with the flotilla." _A position which Simpson made absolutely sure of, bless his crusty and irascible hide. It was as if he saw this wrestling match coming from the very moment I proposed the mission._ "Consequently, while it was agreed, from the outset, that I could not hold a field rank equivalent to the many senior Danish and Swedish commanders in the flotilla, my equal share of authority regarding the management and strategy of the flotilla was—and remains—undiminished." He turned to Simonszoon, whose usually veiled eyes were wide in frank admiration. _Didn't think I had the stones for this sort of down-and-dirty politicking, eh, Dirck? Well, guess what: neither did I._ Eddie didn't miss a beat. "Captain Dirck Simonszoon, as a sign of the amity and alliance between our nations here in the New World, might I ask you to accept the temporary command of the USS _Resolve_ as a special commission?"
"Commander—Sir! It would be my honor, if my admiral may spare me from the Dutch fleet."
Tromp smiled. "You have my leave and encouragement to accept Commander Cantrell's offer, Captain. Make the Provinces proud."
Simonszoon scoffed. "And when have I done any less?"
Van Walbeeck grinned. "Do you mean on the deck of a ship, or in a grog shop?"
Dirck pointedly did not glance down the table at Jan, but rather, tugged at his collar. "It's getting hot in here. Let's finish this damned meeting."
**_Oranjestad, St. Eustatia_**
The one large wooden building in Oranjestad—an all-purpose _gemeentehuis_ , indoor market, and dance hall—was already starting to fill with eager guests. The somber mood of the late morning funeral that had been conducted not twenty yards away had dissipated completely. That was hardly a surprise: Pros Mund had stepped ashore all of one time, and the whispering behind cupped hands opined that his wife was at best a recluse and at worst an emotionless and aloof exemplar of all that was deplorable in aristocrats.
"A welcome occasion, a party," Tromp observed as he remained well to the back of the slightly elevated platform at the rear of the building.
"A novel occasion," van Walbeeck corrected. "This is the first true party we've had."
Tromp, who had spent many weeks on patrol, and the rest of the time too busy to partake, or even become passingly familiar, with the social life of Oranjestad, started. "Can that—can that be?"
"It most certainly can, Maarten. What did you think? That while you were slaving away for the good of the colony, the rest of us were dancing and drinking?"
"No, no, but I—"
Jan laughed someplace down in his belly, and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You are always so delightfully earnest, Maarten. I know you were well aware that our colonists have not had a lightsome time, this past year. But I do suspect that you might have imagined that, out here in the town, the rituals of life managed to go on as before, albeit much diminished."
Tromp reflected. "I suppose I did. I suppose I wanted to imagine it that way. Because if there was some semblance of normal existence, it meant that I—we—were providing for the colonists sufficiently."
Jan squeezed his shoulder. "Well, see now? All your hard work is finally rewarded: a party!"
"Yes," Tromp grumbled, "mostly victualed from the larders of Danes."
"Well, how should it be otherwise? It is a presentation of their king's daughters to the society of Oranjestad. Such as it is."
"We have 'society' in a town that has not had a single party in a year?"
"Of course we do."
"And how do you tell the members of society apart from everyone else?"
"Quite simply, Maarten. The members of Oranjestad society still have real shoes."
Tromp stared sidelong at Jan, saw his smile, and could not resist joining him in a brief chuckle. "It is good to have a moment to leave business behind, my friend."
"It would be," Jan admitted in a slightly more somber tone.
Tromp resolved not to frown. "And what is it now?"
"I have had word from Michael McCarthy. He believes the radio will be ready tonight."
"Tonight? So he will not be here?"
Jan shook his head. "No. And I suspect he is secretly relieved at the coincidence. He sent his formal regrets to Lord Sehested, who seemed relieved to receive them, as I understand it."
"Sehested doesn't like McCarthy?"
"Oh, no. Nothing of the sort. But I suspect he may plan to use this social event as an opportunity to do a bit of politicking. And radio messages to and from Europe would only get in the way. Particularly since those communications would involve contact with up-time authorities."
"Ah," Tromp exhaled, seeing where Jan was leading. "So you think Sehested wanted Eddie on his own, tonight, and without recourse to his leaders?"
"The possibility has crossed my mind. However, one thing is certain: before this party begins, you and I must decide who we shall continue to meet with openly as we frame our plans for Santo Domingo, and who we must exclude."
Tromp nodded. "Because we must restrict spreading word about the radio, which will be an integral part of those plans."
"That, and general prudence against setting loose lips flapping here in our own town. Consider Corselles. He has no role in deciding upon how we shall attack Santo Domingo. However, were he to be kept apprised, he would, alas, be quite capable of giving away subtle strategic details without even knowing he was doing so. And there are other avenues by which necessarily secret information might become widely known. For instance, ship's captains often drink to excess just as much as their sailors do."
"Jan, are you referring to—?"
Walbeeck held up a hand. "I am not mentioning individuals because I am not thinking of individuals. I simply note that, the more persons who are involved in the early planning of our attack, the more chances we have of enemies getting wind of its particulars."
Tromp sighed. "It is sad, but prudent. Besides, there is entirely too much dissent among our own landowners. They have regular contact with our captains, our pursers."
Van Walbeeck shook his head. "And what of our tradesmen and workers who go back and forth from St. Christopher's? They seem to do a more lively trade in rumors and gossip than anything else. And the French there, those who mix in with the English, will carry those rumors down into their capital at Basseterre. And we know that both governors, Warner no less than d'Esnambuc, both turn a blind eye toward trade with the pirates of Jamaica and Tortuga."
"So who is our inner council of war, then? Just the two of us?"
"Well, Maarten, truth be told, I'm none too sure about your reliability, either."
"Very funny, Jan. Who else? Eddie, obviously. Banckert."
"Even though you have to leave him behind in Oranjestad, again?"
"Absolutely. Joost must know what we are doing, and when, and why, if he is to be able to react to unforeseen crises or changes."
"Fair enough, Maarten. Anyone else?"
"I do not think we can include Eddie without including Gjedde. It would be too profound a slight to the senior officer of our allies. And besides, Gjedde doesn't speak much, but when he does, it's always worth listening to."
Van Walbeeck nodded vigorously. "Agreed. Simonszoon?"
"I think we must, and he's not much more talkative than Gjedde, usually."
"What about the ground commanders? Once we get to Santo Domingo, they will need to know everything."
"Yes, but at this stage, they do not need to know anything. As we begin studying the maps we have of Santo Domingo, and gathering reports on its walls and troops, then we will bring them in. Although—"
"Yes?"
"I wish we had the earl of Tyrconnell here. He is a clever fellow, quite experienced, and well educated. More importantly, he has spent his life in Spanish service and knows the smallest details of their protocols."
"Having taken a few Spanish ships and towns ourselves, we are hardly ignorant in such matters, Maarten."
"True, but we still remain outsiders to that knowledge. It is not _instinctive_ to us. Conversely, the earl of Tyrconnell was a well-placed insider, trained in Spanish service, including artillery. Besides, he is a prudent man who has spent a lifetime learning how to hold his tongue and be cautious. He had little choice, since the English have wanted his head, and do so more than ever, now."
"Ah. Because he is the last earl of Ireland. Tell me, why is he not here?"
Tromp shrugged. "Because he is doing other important work that only he may do."
"And what, and where, is that?"
"O'Donnell and Pieter Floriszoon split off from our fleet when we drew near Montserrat."
"Why there?"
"The population is overwhelmingly comprised of Irish catholic refugees from Nevis. Apparently they fled after a religious disagreement several years back. He is hoping to rally the support of the settlement there, possibly even draw some new recruits to his colors."
"Well, it still sounds as though he had some help with that. Without Floriszoon's _Eendracht_ , he would have had to ask the recruits to swim back here."
"Not entirely true. He is half owner of the _patache_ his men took in Puerto Cabello. We own the other half."
"And so is the earl a proficient seaman, among his other wonderful traits?"
"No, although Floriszoon tells me he has the right instincts for it. And whereas our fellows are teaching the Irish how to be sailors, the Wild Geese are imparting some lessons in weapon-handling and even the finer arts of boarding a ship."
"They are teaching _us_ how to board ships?"
"Many of them spent time as ship's troops. The Spanish train their lead-rank boarders quite specially it seems. O'Donnell and Floriszoon are sharing that knowledge and between them, they seem to be making a good team."
"Yes," agreed Jan, "it's all needful skills they are exchanging."
Tromp shook his head. "I mean more than that, and more than the greater and improbable combination of our Dutch sea dogs and O'Donnell's Wild Geese. I'm referring to the pairing of O'Donnell with Floriszoon _personally_ , the fact that they get along well, that they have worked together. That is a serendipitous first bridge between _Amsterdam_ and Brussels in this new Netherlands in which we now exist."
"In what way?"
Sometimes, Jan van Walbeeck's fine intellectual insights blinded him to more visceral human truths. Not often, but this was one of those moments. "Jan, O'Donnell and Floriszoon are both young men, both educated, both tired of the religious bigotry that fueled the wars that defined their lives and those of their forebears. We are fortunate that both are philosophical enough in their respective faiths to find ample room for toleration of the other." Tromp leaned back. "I would not interrupt the solidification of that friendship even if it cost me a ship and twenty good guns. Because the cooperation— _willing_ cooperation—between the Brabant and our United Provinces, of linking our fates and fortunes as a single nation means more in the long run than any single battle. And it will be fortunate and wise to have men of intelligence and experience who may be liaisons between those two dominions at moments of friction. Men such as O'Donnell and Floriszoon. Much may be done if the leaders of our new country are operating in concert. Much may be lost if they are not. And men such as these two young captains may be just the insurance the Netherlands needs to maintain enough unity of purpose and mutual understanding to survive the first years of genuine integration. Allies are far more difficult to manage than enemies, after all."
"How timely an axiom," murmured van Walbeeck. "Here comes another one of those potentially difficult allies, now."
Hannibal Sehested, attired in understated splendor that flattered the event without quite making him conspicuous, approached with a broad smile. "Gentlemen," he said in passable Dutch, "how do you fare this evening?"
They bowed, Jan replying as he did so. "Quite well, Sir Sehested, and our thanks for your sovereign's generosity, that we might make merry while making the formal acquaintance of his lovely daughters."
He bowed in return. "I wish the evening could do both better honor to the ladies, and to you, our hosts in this far land. And it saddens me that fate had us choose the date that should turn out to be the same as marks our mourning of Admiral Mund."
"Indeed," agreed Tromp solemnly. "I did not know him well, but he seemed prudent and concerned for the safety of his men." Tromp spotted Eddie entering the building from the rear door, scanning faces as he began roving along the edges of the early-comers. "Ah, Commander Cantrell, do join us." _And save me from this eager young Danish diplomat._
Eddie, looking very distracted, stopped, nodded and wandered over, remembering to bow instead of shaking hands at the very last second. "Nice to see you all, gentlemen. I wonder if you have seen my lovely wife?"
"I am afraid not, Lord Cantrell, although with half an hour left before her entrance, I would not expect to find her here," Sehested replied. "But this is an excellent vantage point to scan for her, if she makes an early appearance. And as you do, you might perhaps share your insights on our fallen hero, Admiral Mund."
Eddie sounded confused, looked suddenly cautious. "Uh—insights? I can't really say I knew him that well."
"No, of course not. Pros Mund was a private man. And so, the causes of his actions were not always fully understood by those who witnessed them. Indeed, I had not foreseen that he would be such an indomitable lion once was combat was joined. But he was bold indeed, taking so many prizes."
Tromp suppressed a sigh. Now Sehested's motivation for this conversation was becoming clear: to further "discuss" the matter of the Spanish prize ships. Which had caused some debate in the wake of the battle.
Of the twenty-six Spanish ships that were present for the Battle of the Grenada Passage, three had been sunk outright. Five more were so badly damaged by the guns of the USE steam cruisers that they had necessarily been scuttled. Three had to be abandoned before guns or other valuable items could be recovered from them. The fires had been too dangerous and widespread to risk coming alongside. Four had been taken as prizes, although only one—a refitted nao that had struck her colors when the _Intrepid_ bore down upon her—was fundamentally undamaged. Of the other three, one—a galleoncete that Tromp's own Dutch ships had been raked with fire and disabled before she could flee with the rest of the Spaniards' southern van—was still capable of independent maneuver. The other two, galleons much pummeled by the two USE steam cruisers, had suffered immense damage to their spars, and, in one case, the rudder and tiller mechanism.
An even split of the prizes was deemed fair in the immediate aftermath of the battle, the Dutch claiming a galleon and the galleoncete that they had taken themselves, while the USE and Danish contingent had settled for the nao and a galleon.
However, upon radioing a report of this ahead to Oranjestad when they finally came into range, Hannibal Sehested had initiated a swift, if polite, challenge to that apportionment of spoils. Specifically, the Danish diplomat had argued that the steam cruisers had performed the greatest deeds of the day, and so, had earned more than half of the prizes. When there was some resistance to this by Tromp, Sehested countered by pointing to the bravery and sacrifice of Mund as a further reason that it was the contribution of the Danes (he began omitting references to the USE at this point) which had made the victory possible at all. Accordingly, they should at least be given the two largest warships—the galleons—instead of accepting the ponderous and decidedly mercantile nao as one of their prizes.
It was uncertain how the debate would ultimately have resolved, had not Ove Gjedde finally, and reluctantly, become involved. He pointed out that the galleons were not particularly useful to his own Danish fleet as warships. In the current circumstances, they were too slow and incorrectly rigged for military operations in the Caribbean, and two galleons would have been difficult to crew, when the flotilla already had enough guns and hulls to man. However, in claiming the nao, Gjedde pointed out that Denmark had also received first choice of her intact stores and cargo, and that being a high weather ship, like a galleon, she would be well-suited to convoying those spoils home to Copenhagen. Sehested was at pains to graciously accept this perspective (which matched the original division of prize hulls) and thanked Gjedde for his "subtle wisdom" in making these choices on behalf of Sehested and King Christian IV. Or, as Simonszoon had commented, for having shown that the Danish diplomat had as much knowledge about ships as a boar had about bathtubs.
But here was Sehested mentioning the prize hulls yet again. Tromp hoped that the Dane would not be so crude as to use his role as the magnanimous provider of tonight's food and drink as a means of exerting pressure to yet again revisit the twice-approved division of spoils.
But that did not seem to be the Danish diplomat's intent after all. "I understand that other bold actions were undertaken beforehand to secure our alliance's resounding victory. I refer, of course to the daring raid upon Puerto Cabello. I had hoped to meet that commander, the Irish earl, here at the party but I am informed that he did not return with your fleet. Is that correct?"
"It is, Sir Sehested. He and one of our captains, Pieter Floriszoon, diverted to Montserrat. They had refugees to deposit there, and it was also thought best to also acquaint that island's settlers with the earl of Tyrconnell _bona fides_."
"Ah, yes," Sehested said with a nod. "It is populated by Irish Catholics, is it not?"
"Yes," affirmed van Walbeeck, "and it is our hope that they might proclaim loyalty to the earl. Which, given his service to Brussels, would mean adding another safe haven for the ships of the Netherlands." He nodded at Eddie. "If we were to be able to count upon Montserrat as another island allied to our cause, along with those inhabited by the English, we would be most excellently situated, having control over all the northern Lesser Antilles. With the exception of our old colony on St. Maarten, that is."
"That would be an excellent development," agreed Sehested, "and it is fortuitous that you should mention St. Maarten. That island is of particular interest to his royal Danish Majesty, Christian the Fourth."
"Indeed? Is he interested in its salt-flats? At some point we hope to return there to reestablish our salt-fish production. Would he wish to join us in this?" asked van Walbeeck.
"No," Sehested said calmly. "He wishes to take and claim the island for Denmark, in recognition of his contributions to the defeat of the Spanish throughout the Caribbean and the rescue of your colony here in particular. Of course, his Majesty would be happy to grant the right to reopen the commercial operations you call 'factories' without tariff or other fee to his Dutch friends, and would be particularly gratified to materially aid those who lost their business interests in the place when the Spanish evicted you last year."
Tromp was stunned but, being a fairly quiet man, knew that his stunned silence was not particularly noticeable. Garrulous van Walbeeck's speechlessness, on the other hand, was a marked contrast with his usual demeanor. His cheeks puffing, he reddened slightly and finally sputtered. "This—this is most unexpected, Sir Sehested."
Eddie Cantrell's arch stare suggested that he had not expected it, either. "Excuse me, Sir Sehested."
"Yes, Sir Cantrell?"
"Is this according to the will of the Union of Kalmar? Which is to say, does Gustav know anything about this—request?"
"No, he has not been apprised of this _requirement_. But after all, your royal father-in-law is a sovereign. In all that the term signifies and entails. This falls well outside the peripheries of consultation between the different monarchs who are bound together in the Union of Kalmar."
"Yes. I see. Please excuse me a moment."
"Do you have a pressing matter, Lord Cantrell? You shall figure prominently as we continue this discussion, I assure you."
Eddie smiled—a bit too brightly, Tromp thought. "I'm sure I do, but as the spouse of one of this evening's guests of honor, I have a little of my own coordinating to do before the festivities begin. Excuse me. I won't be long."
Tromp had to consciously stop himself from calling—"No! Don't leave!"—after Eddie as Hannibal Sehested began discussing the optimal timetable for retaking St. Maarten from the Spanish.
**_Oranjestad, St. Eustatia_**
Anne Cathrine rolled her eyes as, yet again, there was a knock on the door. "We are hurrying as quickly as we may, Matilde," she called patiently and, she hoped, sweetly to the young Dutch girl who had been working as messenger and girl Friday for the three young Danish ladies. Who were deeply involved in making their toilet and the dress preparations necessitated by their imminent presentation to Oranjestad society.
The voice that responded was not Matilde's. "Uh, it's me, Eddie."
"What? Eddie? Husband—dear—I am, that is, we are—" Anne Cathrine glanced at shy, half-dressed Leonora and Sophie Rantzau's calm, casual nudity—"we are indisposed. Most decidedly indisposed."
"Oh. Still? Um, honey, are you still indisposed, too?"
"I am dressed, if that is what you are asking." Anne Cathrine had to remind herself not to sound coyly seductive. Which is how she usually responded whenever Eddie had occasion to ask her about her state of dress.
"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm asking. Because—"
"Yes?" Anne Cathrine stood. The tone in Eddie's voice was uncommonly serious. "Is something wrong, Eddie?"
"Well, yeah. Someone's making trouble at your party. Already."
Anne Cathrine, without having any idea who might make trouble at a party that would not yet start for twenty minutes or how they would do so, gathered her considerable skirts and began walking to the door. "Who is making this trouble? Have you told Sehested about this?"
"Oh, he knows. Actually, he's helping the troublemaker."
"What? Who is this troublemaker?"
"Unless I'm very much mistaken, it's your father."
" _What?_ "
"Honey, come on out and walk with me. I'll explain on the way to the main conference room in the fort. I've already sent Matilde to get Sehested and the others."
By the time Eddie reached the wide, shuttered room on the second story of the fort's expansive blockhouse, Tromp, Sehested and van Walbeeck were all there. Sehested rose, smiling, "So, we are to have a meeting to settle this matter now? That is quite agreeable to—"
And then he saw Anne Cathrine enter from behind Eddie, who was holding the door for her. She was not smiling. "L-Lady Anne Cathrine," he stuttered. "This is a most awkward surprise."
"Yes," she replied archly. "I rather imagine it must be."
Eddie could hardly keep from beaming as he thought at her, _you go, girl!_
Sehested spread wide, temporizing hands. "Lady Anne Cathrine, I am dismayed that you were summoned away from a party being held in your honor. Of course, it is also for Lady Leonora as well, and it is a privilege to introduce Mistress Rantzau along with you. But you are the oldest king's daughter, and so—"
"And so it is my duty to be present when the king of Denmark's affairs of state are to be discussed. My husband was quite right to summon me, and I will be pleased to have you present this _requirement_ that my royal father has evidently instructed you to impose upon our Dutch allies."
Unless Eddie was very much mistaken, Jan van Walbeeck was ready to explode in amusement and enthusiasm for the spirited and capable young Danishwoman who had, uninvited, swept to the seat at the head of the conference table. Tromp himself hastened to hold her chair, which she acknowledged with a smile as radiant as the rising sun.
The men sat, and she nodded at Sehested.
He shifted slightly in his seat and gazed down at the table. "Lady Anne Cathrine, I must point out that, while I am delighted that you take such keen interest in your father's royal desires and political actions, he did not ask you to represent him here in the New World."
"He did not need to. I am his daughter. I do not need to be told that I should pay close heed to my father's interests. And to my husband's as well, since you told him that this conversation would concern him, too."
"And so it does. But that is predominantly a military matter. And as a king's daughter—"
Anne Cathrine's green eyes were bright and wide, as if daring Sehested to take one step further down the inevitable path he intended: to point out that since she was not a princess, she had no material interest in the royal family's possessions or affairs. She was not in line of succession herself, nor was she a full royal sibling to any of Christian's potential successors.
But on the other hand, she was now sitting at the head of the table, her father's very fiery and competent daughter, with her up-time, Danish-titled husband to one side, and the senior Dutch admiral and administrator in the New World seated on the other side. Sehested's eyes rose from the tabletop, scanning their faces, and Eddie knew what he was looking for: the faintest hint of uncertainty or anxiety. _He's playing poker. He's trying to see whether we're bluffing or whether we will see his bid and call._
Sehested was no fool, and was evidently good enough at poker to see that the other players were not going to fold, but would see this hand all the way to the bitter end. Which meant that, even if he was perfectly within his legal rights to exclude Anne Cathrine from the conversation, and even the room, he would have destroyed his credibility with the three men sitting around her, to say nothing of his relationship with her. And, princess or not, she had her father's ear and she would clearly not be an advocate for Sehested's interests in court. On the contrary, she might become an implacable and quite effective foe. So Sehested shrugged. "As a king's daughter, you are welcome to hear of your father's wishes. They were given to me as a contingency that might require execution, based upon what we might find upon arriving in the New World, and what actions we might be called upon to undertake once here. However, while I would be saddened to displease you in any way, you must of course realize that, as the agent of your father's will, I may not alter my duty to suit your own wishes."
Chin high, Anne Cathrine nodded. "You would be a poor representative of his interests, if you did. Please continue."
"As you wish, Lady Anne Cathrine." Sehested turned his gaze to Tromp and van Walbeeck. "I hope you gentlemen will not think ill of me if I am quite candid."
"We would prefer that," Tromp said quietly.
"Very well. His Majesty King Christian IV is concerned, and somewhat dismayed, that no provision has been made to reward Denmark for her participation in this mission to the New World. She is not party to the joint ownership of the oil drilling ventures in Trinidad, has been promised no land rights on any of the islands there or here in the Lesser Antilles, and most recently was even denied what seemed a just share of the treasure gained in the recent battle of the Grenada Passage even though her ships were responsible for crippling or sinking all but one of the Spanish vessels that were defeated."
Eddie frowned. "Sir Sehested, you are incorrect in one particular. _Intrepid_ and _Resolve_ are not Danish ships. They are USE warships."
"Yes. And seventy percent of their crews are Danish."
"Provided to the USE through the kind agencies of Gustav Adolf as first sovereign of the Union of Kalmar, not directly by King Christian IV."
"Your father-in-law the king sees the matter differently. However, that is ultimately of no account, here. His requirements are not contingent upon whatever gratitude these Dutch gentlemen might feel for his contributions to this alliance, although he would have preferred that those finer sentiments had been strong enough to induce them to offer voluntarily that upon which I must now insist. Namely, that the island of St. Maarten be taken with all practicable haste in the name of King Christian IV of Denmark."
Tromp shook his head, more in bemused confusion than negation. "And we are supposed to do that _for_ you?"
"Several support ships and troops are all we require. As for the act of claiming, that will be done by our senior representative and the leader of the expedition to St. Maarten."
Eddie frowned. "I don't think Captain Gjedde will wish to—"
"Lord Cantrell, it is you who are the senior representative."
" _Me_?"
"Of course. Oh, you are not the ranking military commander, but you are a noble of Denmark. You are the husband of the king's daughter. And, as your king, Christian IV is happy to pass to you the honor and duty of taking and claiming St. Maarten in his name."
Eddie was about to wax prolific and even profane on what he thought of being bushwhacked to be the executor of that honor and duty, when he peripherally detected a stiffening in Anne Cathrine. He paused, not looking at her because that could signal weakness or lack of resolve to Sehested. But what might have caused Anne Cathrine to sit up a little straighter, lose her relaxed, confident posture?
The answer came to him immediately. _Oh. Sure. Because she's now skewered along with me on her Daddy's two-pronged loyalty test. Prong One: is Eddie loyal enough to take up this duty, which would mean that I'm putting my duties as an honorary Danish citizen before any possible objections that might arise from the USE? But if I defy the order and flunk my test, then King Daddy's Prong Two activates: will Anne Cathrine be more loyal to her father, or her husband?_
Eddie frowned. He'd learned, from both life and countless strategy games, that if an adversary confronts you with a choice, your best chance at winning lies in breaking outside that either-or paradigm. In short, you need to come up with a choice of your own. And Eddie saw a way to do that, and save everyone's reputation and honor, if only they were open-minded enough to play along for the first few steps—
He turned away from Sehested and faced Maarten Tromp. "Admiral, I am put in the uncomfortable position of having to request your assistance in taking St. Maarten as a Danish expedition. With apologies in advance, may I humbly ask for your cooperation in this matter? I assure you, it will earn tremendous gratitude from the highest authorities whom I serve."
Tromp frowned. "It seems that your highest authority believes our instincts for gratitude are sorely wanting, so I am not sure how our cooperation will improve your royal-father-in-law's opinion of us."
Eddie shook his head. "Allow me to clarify. King Christian IV of Denmark is not the highest authority I serve." He detected flinches from either elbow, one from Anne Cathrine and one from Sehested. "I am an officer in the service of the USE and its commander-in-chief, Gustav Adolf of Sweden, who is its monarch. While I suspect he would frown upon the requirement being exerted by his royal cousin's proxy-agent, Sir Sehested, I suspect he would be more concerned with ensuring that our fleet continues to be a functional combat force."
Tromp's eyes narrowed. "Yes. I see what you mean."
"Well, I don't!" van Walbeeck exclaimed. "How does this issue affect the operational status of our combined fleet?"
Eddie shrugged. "As Sir Sehested pointed out, almost seventy percent of the flotilla's crews are Danish. They were trained and furnished to the Union of Kalmar and hence to the USE thanks to my father-in-law's keen interest in technology and training his subjects in its uses. But, unlike me, their first authority is King Christian IV, and I suspect they will listen to a known junior councilor of his court,"—Eddie glanced at wide-eyed Sehested—"before they listen to me. At least in matters of national loyalty, and of discerning which banner they must serve and obey first: that of Denmark, the Union of Kalmar, or the USE. But perhaps Sir Sehested will shed some light on the crux of this matter by answering a simple question: if I were to refuse to carry out King Christian IV's directive, would he, in turn, order the Danish members of my crews to stand down from their duties until I complied?" Eddie turned to look at Sehested and felt his wife lean closer to him.
Hannibal Sehested gestured vaguely at the fleet anchored beyond the shuttered blockhouse windows. "I am the agent of my sovereign's will and so, would be compelled to do as you say. If pressed." He looked at Eddie, and then Anne Cathrine, and lastly at Tromp, very intently. "And I assure you, I truly pray you will not press me to do such a thing." His eyes pleaded more desperately than his words.
So, Hannibal wasn't such a bad guy after all. He was just a man doing his job, and not liking it too much, right now. Denmark had ties with all the allies who were literally or figuratively present in the room. As part of the Union of Kalmar, it was _de facto_ allied to the USE. His king's daughter was not merely married to but genuinely and thoroughly smitten with an up-timer and his people's ways. And there had long been amity and exchange between Copenhagen and _Amsterdam_. Sehested would clearly not enjoy being placed in a position where he was an agent of potential discord among those forces, all allied in their mission against Spanish domination in the New World.
Eddie nodded. "I understand your duty," he said to Hannibal. "However, in order to fulfill my duties to all parties, I must also predict that ordering our Danish crewmen to stand down would potentially jeopardize our alliance with the Netherlands, with which the USE is now involved in a crucial co-ownership of New World oil supplies." Eddie turned to Tromp. "Am I right in assuming that the United Provinces would be disinclined to comply with King Christian IV's requirement if they are not offered at least a token of appreciation for their willingness to overlook the highly irregular and manipulative manner whereby the requirement was issued to them?"
Van Walbeeck was not able to hide his sly smile as he bumped his elbow into Tromp's. The admiral cut his eyes at his friend and murmured, "Apparently, a token of appreciation would ensure our compliance."
"Very well," said Eddie, who at last stole a second to look at his bride—and nearly lost his composure. Anne Cathrine was smiling at him with an admiring, horny ferocity that made it necessary for Eddie to shoo away visions of her ravishing him here on the tabletop right after she peremptorily dismissed the other three men from the room. He swallowed and pulled his eyes away. "So, er, given that King Christian IV has charged me with accomplishing the task of retaking St. Maarten, and insofar as it requires Dutch cooperation to do so, I hereby secure the willing aid of the United Provinces by ensuring them that, in recognition of their cooperation and amity to help Denmark accomplish that which she could not accomplish alone, that her captains and commercial factors shall enjoy full and tariff-free access to St. Maarten, in perpetuity. This includes all harbor facilities, all trade, and free and equal access to the salt pans of the island in the interest of resuming their former salt-fish production there." He turned back to Tromp and van Walbeeck. "Is this acceptable to the representatives of the United Provinces, presuming we do not undertake operations until some time next year?"
Tromp, eyes still narrowed, smiled and nodded slowly as if watching a pupil solve a problem several steps more advanced than he should have been ready to address. "It is most acceptable, Commander Cantrell. It will be my personal pleasure to work with you in securing St. Maarten for the Danish crown in 1636, given its generous assurance that the United Provinces shall have free and equal use of its facilities in perpetuity."
Eddie looked over at Hannibal. "Do you have any questions, concerns, or objections to this arrangement, Sir Sehested?"
And Sehested, knowing full well that if he objected, King Christian could conceivably blame him for the failure to snatch the island, shook his head and smiled. "No, Lord Cantrell, I have nothing to add or object. I think we may consider our business here concluded. Lady Anne Cathrine, I believe it is time for you to meet your sister and make your entrance to the party. And here, providentially, are your two hosts whose duty it is to escort you into the building."
Tromp and van Walbeeck rose, each offering an arm to Anne Cathrine. She rose with their completely unnecessary assistance and led the way to the exit. Tromp did not just smile but grinned at Eddie as he passed. A step behind, van Walbeeck jiggled the up-timer's elbow conspiratorially. "After the party—some schnapps, perhaps?" Eddie nodded diffidently, was too busy watching his wife—
—Who, as she exited the room, turned her head briefly in his direction and sent him a look that sent all thoughts of schnapps out of the up-timer's head. Eddie knew just what he was doing after the party tonight, and it didn't involve sitting around tossing back shots with a genial, middle-aged Dutchman.
When the trio had left, Sehested rose, his hand out. "Lord Cantrell, well done."
_Well done?_ He took and shook Hannibal's hand. "No hard feelings, then?"
Sehested looked slightly perplexed, slightly confused. "If I understand your idiom, no: no 'hard feelings.' In fact, your solution is a great burden lifted from me. I was unsure if the Dutch could be brought around to help us take an island upon which, to some degree, they have best claim. You found a solution that your father-in-law did not foresee." He stopped, considered. "Or perhaps that was his purpose."
"What do you mean?"
"I harbor a suspicion, Lord Cantrell, that King Christian occasionally sets us tasks for which he has no solution in mind, simply to test our determination, our resourcefulness, our ingenuity. If I am right in this conjecture, then I suspect he will be happier with _how_ you achieved this than he is with the achievement itself." Hannibal smiled. "And as for me, I am happy to be sharing this strange adventure with a fellow who at once respects royal authority, yet is no fawning slave to its every whim. To attempt one of your stranger up-time idioms, would it be correct to say that I 'like your spunk'?"
Eddie laughed aloud. "I guess it would, although I haven't heard that expression in quite a while."
"It is out-dated then?"
"Given that it's 1635, I don't see how anything from my time could be called 'out-dated.' And hell, if it is, who cares? And by the way, call me Eddie, from now on."
"Very well, Eddie. And you should call me Hannibal. And we must hurry if we are to be on time. I suspect you will not want to miss your wife's grand entrance."
Michael McCarthy, Jr., pushed through the old sail-cloth that was the curtain that screened off the recovery cots from the dispensary. Aodh O'Rourke's alert eyes were already on him as he entered. "Damn it," Mike grumbled, "are you still laying about?"
"It's a vacation I'm having, Don Michael. Don't be spoiling it."
"Huh. Some vacation. Almost lost your leg to that damn infection that set in on the way back here. I'm guessing it took a few gallons of one hundred proof cane spirits to save it."
O'Rourke grumbled, licking his lips at the words "cane spirits." "Hrm. Then t'was a bad waste of good rum."
Michael stared at him. "You'd have rather had the rum than kept your leg?"
O'Rourke frowned.
"Well?" Mike pressed.
"Never rush a man when he's making a difficult choice, Don Michael. I'll cogitate on it a bit and get back to you. Now what brings you here, anyway? I would have expected you'd be making merry at the party I'm hearing."
"Me? At the party? Hell, I'd rather be hung by my thumbs."
"Which I'm sure some of the landowners would be happy to arrange. So you've just dropped by to check in on my sorry self again?"
Mike shrugged. Evidently Dr. Brandão's three noble Danish nurses had updated O'Rourke regarding the visitors he'd had when still lost in a febrile, trackless delirium. "Yeah. Maybe. But I had to come out this way, anyhow."
"Ah, you're making me feel so special, y'are. And what has you coming to the fort in the middle of the night, or near thereto?"
"First message from Europe just came in. Took three days to get it."
"Three days? I saw the radio we had on the _Eendracht_. Those boyos sent messages in a few minutes. At most."
McCarthy nodded. "That's because they were transmitting over short ranges. When we try to get or receive a signal from over the Atlantic, there's a lot of signal loss and unreliability, and there are certain times of the day when you can send more easily than others. We're working through all that now. So we had to tell the folks in Vlissingen to keep repeating the message. And they did. Over and over and over. But finally, we got the last pieces filled in about an hour ago. Then we were able to run it against the code-book. And here I am with the message."
"Well, good on yeh, Don Michael, for getting that beast up and running. And that steam engine you brought to make the power for it: working as well as you hoped?"
"It is now. Took effort and then some to get it to run on either wood or petroleum by-products."
"On what?"
"Er, the less valuable parts of the oil that we'll be getting from Trinidad."
"So they're producing oil? Already?"
"No, but the bitumen of Pitch Lake can be separated into different components. Some of them make a reasonable fuel on their own, some work best when you use them to inundate wood. That radio itself was the real trick to get running. The Alexanderson alternator that makes it possible is pretty big and pretty delicate. Well, delicate enough that it's a little grumpy after having made an Atlantic crossing in a small ship like the _Intrepid_."
O'Rourke raised an eyebrow. "The _Intrepid_ is _small_? Then just how big were your up-time ships?"
"We'll talk about that some other time. Like maybe after half of the farm owners are done trying to kill me."
"It's come to blows, then, has it? I've heard a bit about that ruckus you've started."
Mike shrugged. "Well, no, it hasn't come to blows. But I'm pretty sure some of the landowners would be eager to finish me off in a _single_ blow. They're not interested in fisticuffs, O'Rourke. Every slaveholder on this island pretty much hates my guts enough to want to wear them for suspenders."
O'Rourke folded his hands meditatively over his broad, flat belly. "We've a saying in Ireland about such situations."
"To listen to my dad, the Irish have a saying for _every_ situation."
"So we do. It's the hallmark of wisdom, don't you know. But here's the saying anyway, you ungrateful pretend-Irishman: 'it's a compliment to be both hated and feared by all the scoundrels in one's own town.' So, it was your rabble-rousing rhetoric that's brought things to their current state?"
"Oh, they probably could have lived with it if it was just coming from me. But, having been the first go-between for Eddie, and Hugh, and Tromp, I had access to the admiral's ear. And van Walbeeck's. And we had conversations about how different colonial powers in the up-time history weaned themselves away from slavery. And they started to put those methods into practice here."
"Hrrmmm," O'Rourke subvocalized. "I'm not surprised to hear it. Maarten Tromp's a man of principle, he is."
"You know him?" McCarthy said, surprised. "How?"
"Well, after the wound from Puerto Cabello turned ugly, that heathen Tromp came by to stare at me a bit on my sickbed aboard the _Intrepid_."
"'Heathen?'"
"Well, he's not a Catholic, is he?" Seeing the bemused look on McCarthy's face, O'Rourke scowled. "Ah, that's right. You up-timers are above petty differences such as the path a man must go to see the face of God."
"We're not above it. We just don't kill each other about it."
"Yes. Well. So the heathen Tromp came to see me and inquire after my health on a few occasions—although, I must allow, he's a most civilized and pleasant heathen, and sure it will be a shame that he's to burn in hell."
"Er. Yes. So you were already familiar with his attitudes about slavery?"
"And tyranny in general, for that matter. As I said, a most principled man."
McCarthy nodded. "Yeah. But he knew he wouldn't be able to sell his reforms based on principles. He persuaded most of the council here by walking them through the up-time historical models I showed him. However the models differ, they all show pretty clearly that any economy dependent on slave-labor is extremely vulnerable to all kinds of disruptions. Van Walbeeck pushed them further along by outlining what he had seen himself while in the East Indies, how every slave population _always_ becomes a breeding ground for crippling rebellions. So between those arguments, Tromp got the council to support his directive to recategorize all slaves as bondsmen."
"Changing a term doesn't change whether a man is treated like a slave."
"No, but it does change whether he is property, whether he can be bought and sold. And as Tromp intended, that was just the edge of the wedge to make further changes. The council just recently agreed that all bondsmen will earn their freedom five years from now, or, for those who come later, after five years of service. Next, I think he's going to try put in a rule that new laborers who arrive in the colony against their will or wholly indigent can't be swept into the current debt-peonage system, but must be allowed to enter as regular indentured servants."
O'Rourke smiled. "That must make you even _more_ popular with the local men of substance, then."
Mike smiled back. "You have no idea. I'm accused of corrupting Tromp and van Walbeeck, possibly using up-time sorcery to inveigle them to rot the colony from within by welcoming natives, Africans, and Jews. And of course, the arch-Calvinists among them are happy to point to my Roman Catholic background as proof that I am a malevolent being."
"Are you a Catholic, then? I couldn't tell."
"Well, _they_ are sure I am," Michael replied, ignoring the veiled remonstration, "since I visited you a couple of times when you were still delirious. And brought some extra food to the other Wild Geese who were recuperating from their wounds, here."
"Ah, you consort with low companions, you do, Michael McCarthy. I knew there was a reason I liked you. Now, do you happen to have some of those infection-killing cane spirits about you? I'm asking for purely medicinal reasons, of course."
"Of course." McCarthy unsuccessfully tried to keep the smile off his face as he rose. "I'll see what I can do."
**_December 1635_**
Commotion of the winds
**_Santo Domingo, Hispaniola_**
The sound of a military campaign in preparation was loud beyond the large window that overlooked the veranda of Captain-General Juan Bitrian de Viamonte y Navarra's villa. Nestled tight around the precincts of Santo Domingo was an armed camp almost half again as large as the city proper.
Standing at the window, Fadrique Álvarez de Toledo nodded at the activities among the tents of his troops, and the swift skiffs carrying messages between the ships in the bay. "Our preparations here are well in hand. What of our Free Companies, Captain Equiluz?"
Antonio de la Plaza Eguiluz, at last returned to civilization after many weeks of making contact with cut-throats and __boucaniers__ from Jamaica to Tortuga, nodded. "I come from meeting with their gathered forces, near Isla Vaca, far to our west."
"Why there?" asked Eugenio de Covilla as he patted the grease of the roast boar medallions off his lips.
Equiluz shrugged. "It was a reasonable midpoint between the two greatest concentrations of raid—er, Free Companies. A large number make their hidden homes along the coasts of Jamaica, while the more numerous ones frequent the northwest coast of Hispaniola in general and Tortuga in particular. They are none too trusting of each other and so wished a neutral midpoint in which to work out any, er, differences that might exist among their officers. Besides, a _boucanier_ of some education from England claimed that one of his country's most famous pirates, who may still be born this year, found it an excellent place in which to gather forces prior to a raid, or to which to retire in the wake of one."
"Who is this newborn heathen reiver?" asked Fadrique.
"I think they called him Harry or Henry Morgan. I did not pay particular mind to the reference. At any rate, the ships of the Free Companies are mostly as we expected: sloops, barca-longas, _piraguas_ , a few of our own _patache_ s, a few Dutch jachts, and a few more of the same craft built to accommodate the English or 'Bermudan' style of rigging."
"Nothing too large, then," de Viamonte summarized.
"That is so, Your Excellency. And that is what I believe we desired, is it not?"
"It most certainly is," Fadrique said, putting his hand on his hip and feeling notably less flesh between his knuckle and hip-bone than he had only eight weeks ago. Being in the field again gave him purpose and vitality, which reduced his need for the rich food and strong drink with which he had formerly dulled the aching wounds that Olivares' displeasure had inflicted upon him. "The Free Companies are the weaker half of our trap, true, but their speed and maneuverability are essential. They must be able to reach broadly and turn quickly. If each hull has no more than a dozen guns, it is still of little matter. Their numbers are important, however." He turned a questioning eye upon Equiluz.
"We can count on a dozen who are reliable enough to actually sail along with our main fleet, as we discussed, Admiral. I have offered letters of marque to another forty-three, most of whom are likely to accept."
"Excellent. How have you arranged for them to be paid for these, eh, special services to His Majesty, Philip of Spain?"
"As agreed, Admiral, they were given one part in twenty of the promised _reales_ when they signed to our colors. When I meet with those who have agreed to sail with our main fleet four days hence off Isla Beata, one hundred miles to the west, they shall be given a further nine parts of the twenty. The balance shall be paid upon completion of their task."
"And how do we know these dogs will not simply fly upon receiving a full half of their payment at Isla Beata, having incurred no risk?" De Viamonte tossed aside his napkin angrily. He despised pirates and every minute spent discussing their necessary recruitment and management made him increasingly ill-tempered.
Fadrique interceded, knowing the captain-general would not dare to vent his spleen on an equal. "My dear de Viamonte, it is a surety that some of these dogs will do just as you fear. It is in the nature of soldiers of fortune and adventurers everywhere. However, we cannot ask for a perfect solution, merely one that provides us with the forces to defend the interests of our King and Country. Of the one in five or one in ten that desert without providing the contracted service? We shall put a heavy bounty on their heads. And those of their brethren who survive this battle shall be put on their trail like so many hounds on the scent of a fox." He smiled. "They know each others' dens so much better than we do, and the pursuers will be aware that, if they hurry, they will not only get the bounty, but the silver the blackguards stole from us. And so, by the hands of thieves, we will yet see justice served, Captain-General de Viamonte."
De Viamonte, considering this, smiled tightly and toasted the proposal with a lifted glass of rioja. "I suppose one can ask no more of justice than this: that if it must be imperfect, at least it should be poetic. And our main fleet is now complete?"
Fadrique nodded. "It is. The last eight warships arrived from Santiago de Cuba yestereve at dusk. We now have thirty-five men-of-war and fourteen smaller supply ships. Add to that our dozen _patache_ s. And add the dozen Free Company ships that Captain Equiluz will be paying, just before he leads the rest of the dogs off on their southeasterly course. All together, we shall number just over seventy ships."
"Let us not forget the nine naos that shall transport the troops," de Viamonte added.
"I've not forgotten them, but I will not load and bring them with us until our battle fleet has met and defeated the foe."
"Which we have at last found, I hear." De Viamonte turned toward de Covilla. "You are sure that last night's reports are accurate, Eugenio?"
"They are, Admiral. The _patache_ Tres Santi encountered a Dutch yacht scouting the Anegada Passage just four days ago. The gin-swillers broke away as soon as they discovered that they had been spotted."
"This is thin evidence upon which to project the presence of a larger 'target,' Don Álvarez de Toledo," observed de Viamonte.
"On its own, yes," Fadrique agreed, "but this sighting was precisely what we were watching for, given what the Free Companies have told us."
Eguiluz nodded. "I took pains to gather intelligence from pirate captains while they were still at remove from each other, and therefore, were unable to coordinate their stories. Yet their reports usually overlapped in all the crucial particulars: that the English colony is back on St. Christopher's and stronger than before. That a French colony is also there, but more anemic in its growth and vitality. That both engage in occasional trade with the Free Companies, particularly those on the north coasts of this very island."
De Viamonte sounded cross. "Here on Hispaniola? Why?"
"It seems, Your Excellency, that when Don Álvarez de Toledo extirpated the colonies on St. Christopher's in 1629, he took many hundreds of prisoners, particularly the English who stayed to fight at their coastal fort after the French abandoned them and fled into the mountains. Those English prisoners were put to work in _haciendas_ on this very island, and many subsequently escaped to join the _boucaniers_ of Tortuga. In consequence, they still have friends, or at least acquaintances, among the English of St. Christopher, and make use of those prior associations when engaging in trade. It is they who were most recently at the island, trading old muskets to the French, as I understand it. And it is they who report that the Dutch presence on St. Eustatia grew dramatically since last year."
"And that," concluded de Toledo, "is why the single jacht we saw scouting the Anegada Passage tells me we shall soon have the target we want: the Dutch fleet. Probably led by these two up-time steam ships."
"All that derived from spotting a single jacht?" de Viamonte wondered.
Fadrique nodded. "Yes. A jacht that, according to Don Equiluz, was tacking more than she needed to, which meant she was not heading to a destination so much as searching for something."
"But for what?" de Viamonte asked.
"For us, Your Excellency," de Covilla supplied deferentially. "If I understand the admiral correctly, he deduces from the maneuvering of the jacht that it is sweeping the waters, seeking enemy sails in the Anegada Passage. That is the best place to catch a fair wind to move down along the leeward side of the Lesser Antilles, in the general direction of St. Eustatia. In short, our adversaries are trying to learn if our strength is in port, or on the water headed for them."
"Which is more crucial for them to ascertain than it is for us," Fadrique added. "They have but one base. They cannot afford to sally out in search of our fleet, only to sail past and miss us as we are bound for their home port with the power to utterly destroy it."
De Viamonte nodded. "I see. Well, I suppose being charged with defending ports for so long has made me unaccustomed to think along such risky lines. But you make a sound case for perceiving this yacht as a probable confirmation of what the Free Companies have told Don Equiluz. But tell me"—he turned to the young captain—"should we not suspect that the Companions with ties to St. Christopher will in fact impart warnings of our current actions to their associates there?"
Equiluz nodded somberly. "I had the same misgivings, Your Excellency. That is why I did not extend offers of letters of marque to such men, nor did I even mention our plans. I simply paid them for the information they provided. Even so, I suspect that, before too many months elapse, our recruitment of the other pirates will become known to them, as will its purpose, and so, they shall realize why we were asking the questions we did. However, by then, the actions we plan to undertake against this new Dutch threat will have long been completed." He held up a palm. "There was, unfortunately, no way to solicit information from the Free Companions without, indirectly, releasing some to them as well."
De Viamonte nodded indulgently. "This is in the very nature of asking a question, good Don Equiluz. You always inform the one to whom you address a question that the answer is in some way important to you." He set down his glass. "So it seems our plans are coming together as hoped. The enemy's strength is tentatively located on St. Eustatia and seems to be readying itself, or has begun, to head toward us. Which means that you must commence your difficult tasks of coordination, gentlemen. What you propose is fairly ambitious."
"It is," Fadrique admitted, "but we have the resources to carry it out. Our main fleet has all the warships we could ask for. Our Free Companions have swift, maneuverable ships, and have been furnished with mirror-backed heliographs for signaling and maintaining formation during the night, and lensed reflectors for doing so during fair days."
"And if the weather turns foul, you still believe that will be to our advantage?"
Fadrique felt his lips become rigid, straight. "Captain-General de Viamonte, after what I saw those steamship deck guns do at the Grenada Passage, I may absolutely assure you of this: any engagement in which their accuracy is undermined is to our advantage. Our numbers will prevail, but only if we survive long enough so that they may be brought to bear upon our foe."
"Yes, of course," agreed de Viamonte. "But with so much depending upon a fairly complex plan, I could wish that we had had more time to address all relevant the preparations, particularly with the Free Companies."
"More time is always good," Fadrique agreed openly, but thought, _except that now, with their radios, these up-time supplied bastards have an advantage over us. The clock and the calendar are always their friends and never ours. So our one alternative is to press matters wherever we may. Wherever we determine they wish they had more time, that is precisely where we must act with utter swiftness, even if our plans are not well or fully set_. "But fear not, Captain-General de Viamonte, we are in adequate readiness. And our Free Companies are already straining at their leashes to set upon the Dutch. So the time is ripe to set them in motion."
_No matter how hateful the doing of it might be._
**_Fifteen Miles East of St. Croix, Caribbean_**
The soft knock on the cabin door was recognizable as Svantner's. "Come in, Arne!" Eddie called out, picking up his next report.
The lanky Swede slipped into the cabin. "You asked to be notified as soon as the _Zuidsterre_ 's sighting was confirmed."
"So, the Spanish have come out to play. Do we have a count?"
Svantner nodded. "Sixty sail, sir. Maybe a few more toward the back of their van. Hard to tell, even from the balloon." He sounded admirably calm, given that it meant the Allied fleet was outnumbered, three to one. Even counting the supply fluyts that were to be kept far away from any combat, lest the troops and ammunition and extra coal on them be lost. But, odds notwithstanding, it was a good thing that both Eddie and Tromp had pushed relentlessly for getting their own fleet under way as soon as possible. Had they put it off another five days, they'd have been meeting these Spanish in sight of Oranjestad itself.
Eddie nodded at Svantner's report. "So it's as Tromp expected. The Santo Domingo fleet has been reinforced from Cuba. Heavily."
"Maybe not, sir. A lot of the ships are smaller than we expected. A lot more _patache_ s or other fore-and-aft rigged craft, sir."
That made Eddie pause. "Hmm. Less weight of shot, but more maneuverability. And harder for us to hit." Of course, it was entirely possible that the Spanish had simply scraped together whatever hulls they had available to throw at the new Caribbean threat that had announced itself at the Battle of Grenada Passage. But it was also possible that the composition of this Spanish fleet was not a matter of chance, but careful design . . . "Arne, signal Dirck and Admiral Tromp that we need to keep a close eye on how the Spanish maneuver."
"What, specifically, are you recommending they watch for, Commander?"
Eddie shrugged. "I wish I knew. But typical Spanish doctrine would have them line up a wall of galleons against us. Either they don't have them to spare, or they're trying something different. And since they've changed the balance of their fleet toward lighter, handier hulls and fore-and-aft rigs, I'm thinking that their tactics are going to emphasize maneuver more than usual."
Svantner shrugged. "They might, but I don't see how they could get the weather gauge on us, sir. We're running before the breeze coming steady from east by northeast. And we'll be north of St. Croix before they reach us, so it's not as though they've got enough room to turn our flank unless we let them."
"All true, Arne. But they know all that, too, and they've known we're coming for at least a week now, what with our yachts playing hide-and-seek with their _patache_ s and _piraguas_ in the seas between us. So whatever they've got in mind, they've taken all that into account. Which means either I'm missing something, or they are. Or these are the only ships they've got available near Santo Domingo."
"Probably the latter, sir."
Which was both a reasonable and a comforting conjecture. Which was why Eddie refused to accept it, refused to be lulled into a dangerous complacency by hearing what he _wanted_ to hear. "You might be right, Arne, but until we know that's the case, we're going to behave as if it isn't. How long until we reach them?"
"If we push on, we'd make contact at night, sir. Some time during the middle watch."
Eddie started. "What? How strong is the wind?"
"Up to thirteen knots sir. Seas are rising toward three-foot swells."
Too fast an approach and increasingly choppy seas: no good. "Send to the admiral that I recommend we half reef the sails and close slowly. I think our best scenario would be to have the Spanish at about five miles come tomorrow morning. We can use the rest of today's light to tighten up our formation so we've got minimal dispersion to correct at dawn. And we won't put the steam pinnaces in the water until we see first light and determine how high the seas are going to be."
"Very good, sir. Anything else?"
"Yes, Svantner. I want you to bodily throw the chief engineer in the brig."
Svantner blinked. "Sir?"
"I'm kidding, of course." _Well,_ mostly _kidding._ "But I swear that if Pabst sends one more of his 'black gang' up here with a panicked request to test the new treated wood before we enter combat, I will cook him in his own precious boiler."
Svantner stared at the deck. "Well, sir, to be honest, a lot of the engineering crew aren't entirely sure why we're carrying a fuel that seems to be—well, an added fire risk."
"Okay, Arne. Then I'll explain it to you, if you promise to go down there and explain it to them."
"Aye, aye, sir," Svantner said sheepishly.
"To start with, where can we get more coal?"
"Uh . . . nowhere. Not without going back to Europe."
"Precisely. There's plenty of it here in the New World. Coming from a coal-mining town originally, I can assure you of that. But no one's tapped into it yet. And it could be quite a while before they do. So we either burn the coal we brought with us, or the wood that comes to hand."
"Yes, sir. Which is why we haven't burned coal since the Battle of Grenada Passage."
"Right. So, now: burning wood. You've seen how fast we go through it, particularly if we're trying to get the boiler up to full pressure."
Svantner nodded. "Yes, sir. It's gone in no time."
"But if we soak the wood in petroleum by-products, the ones we separated from the bitumen we took from Pitch Lake, then we get some of the benefits of oil burning, even though our engine is designed to burn solids."
Svantner nodded. "Yes, sir. I understand all that. I suspect they do down in engineering, too. But it will still burn quickly, and these oil-soaked, one-inch cubes are not only as dirty as sin, but leave a flammable residue on whatever they touch. In short, what's the benefit?"
"Saving coal by getting the engines to operating heat before we start shoveling it in. Svantner, tell me, have you seen the oil-treated cubes burn?"
The Swede nodded. "Yes, sir. Like the fires of hell itself."
"Exactly. Now, let's say we're closing with the enemy and must get our engines up to speed, but we don't know exactly when we'll need to commence tactical maneuvers. That means we have to get the boilers up to a useful temperature quickly, but don't want to burn any of our irreplaceable coal doing so, or holding them in preheated readiness."
The figurative light came on over Svantner's head. "So the oil in the wood cubes gives us that fast, high heat before we start shoveling in the coal." He nodded again. "Thank you, sir. But Pabst is still worried about the wastes, is concerned it might leave a heavier residue that could smother the draught to the burners."
Eddie nodded. "That's a good thought, but we've separated out the impurities from the bitumen pretty well. So the treated wood should burn just as cleanly as regular wood. In addition, we've chosen woods that burn to a finer ash—a powder, really—that should actually make less trouble than coal dust." He smiled. "Do you think that will make Pabst—and you—rest a little more easily?"
Svantner stared quickly at the deck again. "My apologies, sir. I didn't mean to—I wouldn't dream of—"
"Arne, you needed to voice a concern that impacts the safe and effective operation of this ship, for which you are the executive officer. You'd be derelict in your duty if you didn't bring the matter up with me. You've done your job, and done it well and respectfully. Now, if there's nothing else—?"
"Sir, there is one other thing. Do you think the Spanish know that our steamships burn coal, predominantly?"
Eddie frowned. "I'd expect they do. It would be strange if none of their personnel weren't familiar with at least that aspect of our steam technology."
"Then I was wondering: are you using this wood to mislead them, to make them think we're burning more coal than we are? When I saw the treated wood burning, just before we left Oranjestad, I noticed that the color of that smoke was close to what one sees with the coal."
Eddie made sure he didn't grin anywhere near as widely as he wanted to: Svantner was proving to be more shrewd than he originally seemed. "Well done, XO. That is exactly what I hope they'll think. If they're watching the clock, waiting for us to run out of coal or to start getting stingy with it, they'll be working from the mistaken assumption that we started using it much earlier than we actually did. And every time they make that kind of wrong guess, it puts us in the position of be able to hand them another nasty surprise."
Svantner nodded, chimed in with the mantra he'd learned recently. "Because the side that has to guess, and keeps guessing wrong, loses the initiative. They are playing by the rules set by the opposition."
Eddie nodded, pleased. "And we want them playing by our rules, Mr. Svantner. Until they've lost the game and go home. Assuming there are any left to do so."
**_Seventeen miles south of Cerro Indio, Isla de Vieques_**
Admiral Fadrique Álvarez de Toledo lowered his spyglass and spoke over his right shoulder. "Time for you to be getting back to your ship, Captain de Covilla. It seems the Dutch and their heathen friends have taken the bait."
"They are steaming towards us already?" De Covilla sounded alarmed.
Fadrique laughed. "Hardly. They seem to be slowing, probably reefing their sails, from what our pickets report." Which meant that, given the many relays it had taken the report to reach them, from the lead scout- _patache_ all the way back to their position toward the rear of the van, the change in the allied fleet had probably been observed twenty minutes ago.
"Then how would that indicate they are taking our bait, Admiral?" De Covilla sounded perplexed.
"As I observed off Grenada, they will wish to conserve their fuel, and also to take us at distance with their deck guns. They would achieve neither if they pushed on now." He gestured behind at the sun which would be kissing the horizon in an hour. "Instead, they would reach us in darkness, a time that all but eliminates the superiority of their gunnery and they would have burned much coal to do so. No, they will approach slowly through the night and leap upon us in the morning, using full sail to overtake our fleet before shifting to their steam power to outmaneuver us tactically."
"Except we will not be where they expect," smiled de Covilla.
Fadrique nodded. "Sailing before the wind all night, we will be ten miles farther to the west, compelling them to chase us. Naturally, they will be frustrated, and will find the poorer sailing speed of the Dutch warships, and particularly their supply ships, to be particularly annoying."
"Perhaps they will abandon the slower moving ships, then."
"We could hope for that, but I doubt it. I have not seen that species of rashness in their commanders, to date. But I suspect that, in straining to catch us, they may not maintain the formation they intend. And that will be serviceable enough. Assuming that all our own plans are in order. About which: have we had another signal from Equiluz?"
"Yes, Admiral. He reports the easternmost scout of his privateers have sighted the western mountains of St. Croix."
"Are our privateers in good formation, reasonably tight?"
"That final part of Equiluz's message failed, sir. As the sun sank, his reflector became dim, then unreadable. We will need to wait until nightfall for our far southern pickets to see his heliograph."
_If we see it at all,_ Fadrique grumbled mentally. This had always been the part of the plan about which he had harbored the greatest misgivings: that an armadilla of pirates-made-privateers, maneuvering independently, and with only one Spanish ship to oversee their compliance, would in fact be where they were needed, when the time came. St. Croix had been the visual anchor point for that southern detachment's furthest eastern picket, and had obviously served that purpose well. Navigating to a position in unmarked, open waters would have been an unreasonable expectation. But if the weather turned, or a mist rolled in—"The weather, Captain de Covilla: what do our scouts report from the east?"
"Clear skies of a pink tint, Admiral. We should have good visibility to receive new messages, at least unto the middle watch."
"Excellent. When you return to your ship, remember to send word that the sappers on board the _San Augustin_ must finish distributing the pole-petards to the _piraguas_ by midnight. It will take time to rig them on their booms and run the fuses through the pitch-sealed tubes."
"I shall do so immediately upon my return, Admiral. However, I must report that the crews of the _piraguas_ are still none too confident that the spikes will hold the petards to a hull, no matter how forcefully they are rammed home."
Fadrique shrugged. "In all honesty, de Covilla, I share their uncertainty. But their duty is to Spain and her God-loving king, so we shall hope that divine grace shall vouchsafe either safety for their bodies or salvation for their souls. A commander in war-time may hope for little else when he sends so many men in harm's way." _Although, truth be told, the men in those petard-carrying_ piraguas _will be consorting with more bodily harm than I would happily embrace._ "Now, be on your way, de Covilla, unless you have some other question."
"Just one, Admiral. How can we be sure that the enemy does not have a second contingent of ships, one which might be coming around St. Croix from the south? If so, they would find our southern privateer armadilla and quite ruin our stratagem."
"Yes, they would, but you are watching for spectres of your own fears, my dear young captain. Be assured, the Dutch fleet in front of us is all they can spare to hunt us. Indeed, they have sortied more ships than I expected. But if we further assume they sent at least ten or a dozen hulls to protect their new assets on Trinidad, then they can barely have enough ships left to guard their probable base on St. Eustatia. So, to send yet _another_ flotilla southward around St. Croix would necessitate reducing their home guard. And I'm sure the Dutch would not do anything to jeopardize the only safe anchorage they have. I'm sure they left it in well-armed and highly-vigilant hands."
**_Capisterre Bay, St. Christopher's_**
Pierre d'Esnambuc shook hands with cacique Touman and strolled over to where Jacques Dyel du Parque waited nervously, staring out over the bay into the darkling east. He looked at his nephew's still-wrapped sleeping roll. "You should get some sleep, my boy," the older man murmured.
"I will soon," Jacques lied. "I wish you did not have to go."
D'Esnambuc sat next to his nephew. "I wish that as well. But I must lead the ships from Dieppe Bay south tomorrow. There is no captain skilled enough that I may delegate the responsibility of overseeing the attack upon the English upon him. And we must not fail in that mission." He put a hand on his nephew's arm. Jacques tried very hard to suppress the shiver there. "And you must not fail either, Nephew. But if anything unexpected should occur, stay close to du Plessis."
"Du Plessis? I thought you said that de l'Olive was more trustworthy, and certainly more loyal to you. And so, more loyal to me."
"That is true. But de l'Olive is also a hothead and will not think to flee until it is too late. Du Plessis has the one virtue of all cowards: they are quick to their heels. And if he must fly, he will want to rescue you as a means of currying favor with, and forgiveness from, me. And he will be right in expecting that I shall be grateful that he looked out for you."
Jacques shivered even more. "I will not disappoint you, Uncle Pierre."
"I know you shall not, dear boy. But do not get carried away and think you must be a captain in this fight. That is not your role. Your role is far more important, for I have many captains, but only one of our number understands enough about up-time machinery to accurately assess it, divine its purposes, and to inflict enough damage upon it to terminate its functions without utterly destroying it."
"Do you really think Richelieu will be so pleased by having a radio here in the New World? Even though he does not have a matching radio of power in France?"
"'Pleased?'" D'Esnambuc laughed aloud. "Jacques, if what the disgruntled, and now well-bribed, landholders of St. Eustatia have communicated to us is true, the Gray Eminence would rather get his hands on such a radio than any two islands. Because if this radio may do all the things you have told me, then he will understand readily enough that with it, he might take those two islands and many more besides. Think of the coordination that would be possible, the swift confirmation of successes or failures, the proper deployment of forces to where they are needed in a timely fashion and in the right numbers." D'Esnambuc shook his well-shaped head. "You have not lived before the mast and on the battlefield, Nephew—may you never have to do either!—but I have, and I may assure you of this: the radio would dramatically shrink the uncertainty, the confusion, and above all, the titanic waste of such adventures. If Richelieu learns that we have such a powerful device in our possession, it means he will send ships and troops to protect it, experts to repair it." D'Esnambuc thumped the ground in both triumph and annoyance. "The neglect of this colony, of all our island colonies, will be over. Our colonies shall be transformed from a dabbling in New World fortunes to a locus of new and essential power. Our fortunes, and your future, will be assured, my boy."
"In the meantime," Jacques wondered aloud, "how will we manage all of them?"
For a moment, d'Esnambuc seemed to stare at the one hundred scruffy Frenchmen who had traveled along with the almost nine hundred Carib warriors to this sparsely settled coastline near St. Christopher's northern tip. Then he followed further along his nephew's gaze to the natives. Uncle Pierre smiled, almost apologetically. "Oh, them. I do not see much trouble in the initial years, Jacques. We shall do just as we have promised the Caribs. And when the Spanish come—and be assured, they will—we shall be glad of the Caribs' friendship. They know these waters better than anyone else, and are excellent scouts. Their small boats may see our tall ships far off, and yet remain unseen themselves. With them, and perhaps with several of these balloons du Plessis has used, we shall see the Spanish coming from afar, and the natives will join us in fighting them off, harrying any troops they land, raiding whatever cachements they establish ashore. And later, when things are secure—well, I suspect that will be beyond my time, Jacques. But more to the point, it is not a matter that needs resolving this day or tomorrow, whereas we already have enough work for those scant hours, wouldn't you agree? Now, remember, if either du Plessis or de l'Olive resists getting under way before midnight, you must support Touman against them. The cacique is not lazy, and he understands best how long it will take to cross the passage and make an unobserved predawn landing on the windward side of St. Eustatia. Our countrymen will not be mindful of such details that the natives shall rightly deem critical. For instance, the Caribs will want to allow an hour to hide their boats on that part of the shore where the trees come down close to the water. You have seen well enough that such cover is sparse on the windward side of these islands, and the few trees that grow there are stunted and bent by the constant breeze. The natives understand the need to conceal their boats, and appreciate the time it will take to achieve that. They must be in charge of the maritime portion of your journey, and its timing. However, once you are ashore, Touman knows he must defer to du Plessis and to you.
"Caribs, or as they style themselves, the Kalinago, will be good in battle. But their real value to you will be as scouts. Give them time to thoroughly assess The Quill and all that is going on upon it. The wait shall be worth your while, I am sure, and you should easily be in your positions by dawn.
"Once the attack begins, you know what to urge, even if du Plessis forgets or believes he has devised—God help us!—a superior plan. The Kalinagos are to skirmish and their bowmen are to work from forest ambush wherever possible. That said, do not depend over-much upon the musketeers, either ours or theirs. Bring them up like artillery when you run into concentrated defense, then let the Kalinago lead the attack once again. And once you reach Oranjestad, you need only get far enough into it to allow the torch to be your final weapon."
As his uncle squeezed his shoulder affectionately and rose to leave, Jacques realized that there was one topic that had never come up in all the discussion of the attack and its details. "What of prisoners, Uncle Pierre? What should we do with them?"
In the growing darkness, d'Esnambuc's face was a black outline. "They would be a great inconvenience," he said slowly. "I recommend you defer to Touman and the Kalinago regarding the disposition of any persons who surrender."
"But Uncle—"
"Defer to the Kalinago. And do not stay to watch."
**_Off Bloody Point, St. Christopher's_**
The late autumn sun was now southerly enough that, at dawn, it did not rise over the high, green spine of St. Christopher's mountains, but over the flat uplands just north of the French town of Basseterre. Pieter Floriszoon screened his eyes with his hands and looked back at Hugh Albert O'Donnell. "Seems rather quiet, don't you think?"
Hugh shrugged, smiled. "Having never been here, I wouldn't know."
"Well, in my time, I've rarely seen so few boats out fishing. Is it some holiday?"
"None that I'm aware of." Hugh felt the strong tugging pressure fade out of the _patache_ 's whipstaff and heard and saw the mainsail begin to luff slightly. "Wind is shifting," he commented.
"So it is," grinned Pieter, who folded his arms and smiled.
Hugh rolled his eyes. This was not a tricky wind, but Floriszoon was probably trying to see if navigating so close to land spooked the Irishman. But as the wind from the northeast shifted to north by northeast, and he went from close reaching to close hauled, it was a simple matter of turning one point to port to bring the wind back into the mainsail and return to close reaching.
The flutter of the mainsail's luffing subsided and the _patache_ resumed a brisk northwesterly pace, aimed directly at the headland known as Bloody Point.
Malachi O'Mara approached from where his Dutch tutor in sail-handling had just relieved him. "My lord, you look a bit of a pirate this morning, you do."
"Mind your tongue, O'Mara, or you'll find out what it's really like to be keelhauled."
"Yes sir!" He approached and watched Hugh's work with the whipstaff meditatively, clearly paying not a jot of real attention to it.
O'Donnell knew a purposeful loiter when he saw one. "Out with it then, O'Mara. For whom are you playing the part of an emissary, this morning?"
"Why, my lord, I wouldn't dream of—"
"We never dream of things we do routinely. So out with it, I say."
"As you say, m'lord. There's some concern among the new lads from Montserrat that maybe we should have gone to Nevis first, after all. Showing up on Governor Warner's doorstep might be seen as being a bit bold."
"They feel that, do they?"
"Well, yes, sir. Respectfully, sir."
"I appreciate their respectful concerns. You may convey to them my resolve to proceed as planned. Governor Warner is not so grand and well-established a lord as he once was. He's been cut loose by his king. So I suppose you might say, having both lost our titles, mine was greater and older than his and I've no reason not to pay him a visit and my compliments directly. Besides, it was he who accepted their deportation to the Irish colony on Montserrat. It is he who would have to repeal it, at least enough so that they might trade freely here once again without any prejudice or suspicion of being agents for the French."
"Or for them to recruit for you among the relatives and friends they left behind?" Floriszoon all but winked at Hugh.
"Just so," the attainted earl replied. "You say his plantation is beyond that headland?"
Floriszoon nodded. "Yes, a mile or so north of Bloody Point. And what town he has is there, as well. The English are far more populous, but also more spread out. They have no single settlements as large as Dieppe Bay or Basseterre. Although now that we Dutch have sent over so many soldiers, I wonder if—"
From beyond the headland, thunder rolled. In a clear sky.
"Cannon?" O'Mara wondered aloud.
"And not just one, so not a signal or a hail," Hugh glanced back over his shoulder. Floriszoon's own ship, the well-gunned _Eendracht_ , was only one hundred yards off their port quarter. "Pieter," muttered Hugh, "I'm not liking this."
Floriszoon nodded. "None of the usual French ships in Basseterre Bay, no fishing boats out. But would the French really be bold enough to—?"
"If our fleet has left to take the fight to the Spanish, they might have drawn off quite a few of your Dutch soldiers, most of whom are scattered about the countryside anyhow, aren't they?"
"Yes, but given a little time, they would be able to gather and—"
"There may not be any time, not if French mean to eliminate the leadership of the English colony first. Which they would do by attacking Bloody Point. Jeafferson lives around here as well, doesn't he?"
Pieter Floriszoon nodded. "We should come about into the wind and into irons, wait for the _Eendracht_ to lay to so I can transfer and—"
"Pieter, if the French are shelling Warner's estate and the town"—another cannonade confirmed that—"then we don't have the time to stop and put things in order. We must deal with the situation as we find it. Immediately."
"Hugh, we don't know what we'll see when we come around Bloody Point."
"No, but we know one thing: they won't be expecting us. And we have almost one hundred twenty troops between our two ships, and forty-four guns of respectable size."
"And they may have more. Of both."
"Yes, but they don't have the element of surprise. And if they're shelling, they'll be stopped, possibly at anchor." Hugh turned another two points to port. The sails billowed out as the ship came into a broad reach. "And we have speed a-plenty."
"Your man O'Mara is right," Pieter grumbled as he motioned for the pilot to take the whipstaff and gestured for the captain of the deck battery to join him on the shallow poop deck.
"O'Mara is right? About what?"
"You _are_ a bit of a pirate, aren't you?"
The _patache_ that Hugh and Pieter had named the _Orthros_ —since, being jointly owned by Dutch Protestants and Irish Catholics, it seemed fitting to name it after a two-headed hell-hound—came round Bloody Point at seven knots. One mile ahead, and motionless in the water, was a French bark of approximately thirty-two guns. Another similar ship was largely obscured behind her, perhaps eight hundred yards farther north. The morning breeze was blowing westward and so was pushing the smoke of their bombardment back in their faces. Since the French were no longer firing concentrated broadsides, but allowing their pieces to speak at will, the noise was ragged but unrelenting.
"Fat, deaf, and looking the wrong way," summarized Floriszoon as _Eendracht_ came around the point behind the _Orthros_.
"For now, let's leave them that way," Hugh muttered as he finished giving orders to his boarders: almost all the Wild Geese and new recruits from Montserrat were aboard the _patache_.
"We'll never reach them undetected, you know."
"I know, Pieter. But tell me, when they see us, what will they do?"
Floriszoon considered. "Crowd canvas and turn to port. Try to get around so their unused battery is facing us. Give us a broadside."
"Yes, but how much speed will they have?"
Floriszoon scoffed. "Given what little time they'll have to react, not even half a knot. Probably not a quarter."
"So once they commit to a portside turn—"
Pieter's eyes studied the position of the closest French ship, and then went wide. "You're not a pirate. You're a madman, to even think of risking a last-second shift to—"
"But would it work, given our speed and maneuverability?"
"Damn, it might. But it will be a rough ride. And a hell of a stop."
Hugh smiled. "Then let's not scare ourselves by wondering about it. Make for her stern and get me in position."
The _Orthros_ was only four hundred yards astern of the Frenchman when the lookout in the bark's main crow's nest spotted the two fore-and-aft rigged vessels bearing down on them, the first one's decks fairly bristling with troops. Panicked yells ran the length of the Frenchman, and, as expected, her sails unfurled in such haste that one end of her foremain tangled in its reef-points and had to be shaken out. With only its mizzen fore-and-aft rigged, and almost in irons at that, the ship struggled to bring its fresh, unfired batteries around to face south toward the approaching ships.
But at three hundred yards, the faster of the two—the Dutch yacht—turned another point to port, catching the breeze full a-beam. Accelerating, she heeled over, angling off to the northwest, and away from her partner. On that new course, she'd enter the Frenchman's field of fire that much sooner. The Spanish-made _patache_ held course, but with barely half as many guns as the jacht, was certainly the lesser of the two evils bearing down upon the Frenchman.
When they were at two hundred yards, the bark had begun to catch the wind. Her mizzen started filling slowly, allowing her rate of turn to accelerate. Gunners began muscling their pieces into position. Below decks and above, the crews from the landside pieces left off their shore bombardment and crewed the half-manned portside guns. By that time, the jacht had straightened out again, soon to pass almost directly parallel to the Frenchman, whereas the _patache_ showed an almost dull-witted obstinacy, maintaining a course that now had her prow aimed at the bark's port quarter. Had she had a ram, it might have made some kind of sense.
At one hundred yards, three guns of the Frenchman's portside battery spoke, seeking the range. Two white geysers erupted behind the flying jacht and one hundred fifty yards beyond it. The bark slowed its turn, preparing to unleash a broadside at the Dutchman when she closed another thirty or forty yards, which would be in less than twenty seconds.
That was the same moment that the _patache_ cut dramatically to starboard. That maneuver spilled some wind out of her sails—she came into a close reach—but she had barely lost momentum by the time she crossed behind the bark. As she did so, she swung hard back to port—putting her on a course to sideswipe the French ship.
Shouted warnings about a collision were lost in the roar of the bark's port side broadside, which discharged just as the jacht heeled harder to port once again, catching the breeze full a-beam and speeding directly away from the Frenchman, showing the enemy battery her narrow stern. Bracketed by geysers, one ball crashed into her deck, mauling a gun and its crew.
But on the starboard side of the Frenchman, the _patache_ closed rapidly, only eight yards separating the two craft. One cannon from the Frenchman's shore-aimed battery discharged at the speeding craft but soared over the heads of the cold-eyed boarders waiting beneath its gunwale.
A Dutch-accented voice shouted from the _patache_ 's stern—"brace yourselves"—just before the ship turned one more point to port and put her bow into the side of the Frenchman's hull.
Wood screamed, flew up as stripped off strakes and splinters. The lighter Spanish-designed ship rebounded slightly, but her angle of impact had been shallow, so she came back easily with her remaining momentum. The second impact was lighter, so light that the men on her decks were able to remain standing and fling grappling hooks over the Frenchman's shattered gunwale.
Not expecting to fight another ship, the bark had no marksmen in her rigging when the other ships were spotted. The first ones to respond were just climbing up, and so were blown down by massed musketry from the _patache_ 's deck. Similarly, as the French deckhands leapt to swing their swivel guns about, they found the Spanish ship's patereroes already trained upon them and firing. The would-be counterattackers were blasted away from their pieces, trailing spatters of blood.
The boarders swarmed onto the bark's deck, where the hastily organizing resistance met with a terrible surprise: their attackers were armed with pistols that fired repeatedly. A vanguard of ten Wild Geese led the rest of the troops over the Frenchman's gunwale, their pepperbox revolvers killing a few of the defenders, wounding many. More significantly, that sudden wave of fire surprised and quickly broke the morale of most of the survivors. Fleeing to the poop and the fo'c'sle respectively, the French had given up the midship weather deck before any officers had been able to organize a stand. The rest of the Wild Geese poured over, sniping at any defenders who raised a musket in opposition to the more indifferently armed Montserrat recruits who spread like a tide across the deck, wielding everything from daggers to cutlasses to old Spanish matchlocks. A few went down, but each one who fell was hastily replaced by three others, and more Wild Geese came on along with them, carrying musketoons, fresh pistols, and competent orders for the new recruits.
Meanwhile, the jacht had moved well out of range, and made swiftly for the farther French ship. Seeing the fate of her sister, and unsure of how many more enemy hulls might appear, that ship was crowding sail and making for open water. There, she could take advantage of putting the wind behind her square-rigged mainmast even as she put her stern to a following sea.
With most of the first Frenchman's surviving crew trapped on the gun deck and unable to move up the companionways for fear of the revolvers and cutlasses covering the stairs, the remaining officers and sail handlers huddled behind what cover they could find at either end of the ship. And in their silent, collective consternation of wondering how best to fight back, one of the tallest boarders stepped forward, raised a sword toward the captain on the poop deck and shouted:
"I am Hugh O'Donnell, Earl of Tyrconnell, and on my word, I promise you this: I will have your honorable parole or I will have your heads. The choice is yours."
In the profound quiet that was the immediate answer to his ultimatum, a single man stood on the poop deck. "Monsieur, that choice is no choice. You have our parole."
Hugh watched the second French ship fade into the distance and counted the dead being laid out on the deck. Six of the new recruits from Montserrat had already earned the bitter coin of service to their homeland's last earl, along with two of the Wild Geese. A dozen more of his men were wounded, but only one so severely that he was in any immediate danger. "What now?" asked Pieter Floriszoon who was still flushed and seemed eager to find yet another ship to fight. Hugh wondered who, truly, was the pirate at heart. "I go to St. Eustatia. At once."
"What? But they put troops ashore here, and Warner could be—"
"You will take care of that, and protect this place. We cannot be sure the other ship will not return, and we have no way of knowing if others might not be on the way. You will stay here, with this ship as a prize and with yourself on _Eendracht_."
"And you? You're going to St. Eustatia alone?"
Hugh smiled as he looked back over his shoulder at the men on the _Orthros_. The recruits from Montserrat lofted the French muskets and cutlasses with which they had re-armed themselves. "I think I have company enough. But I'll want your second pilot for the helm. We don't want a ham-handed beginner like myself at the whipstaff, or it will be all of us who'll need rescuing."
"Truly spoken," grinned Pieter. "You can leave the wounded here—"
Hugh shook his head. "Your Dutch doctors are best, and you've told me you have a Jewish surgeon in Oranjestad. If we succeed, they'll want to be close to that care. If we don't succeed—" He shrugged. "There won't be much hope for any of us, perhaps."
"Yes, perhaps. Which is the why you should not go alone. If these French officers are telling us the truth, that there is an attack under way on St. Eustatia, it could be twice as large as they're claiming."
Hugh stopped and held Pieter's gaze. "True, but if the French return here and overwhelm the defense we leave behind, then the English are defeated. And that means you'll all starve on St. Eustatia. So, either way, we must have a force in both places. And _this_ is where ships are needed most, not at Oranjestad where your defense fleet is at anchor."
Floriszoon chewed his lower lip slightly and looked away. "Well, when you put it that way—"
Hugh put his hand on the Dutchman's shoulder. "Lend me some of your ship's troops, now. You should be able to scrape together some of your Dutch plantation guards once you put a skiff ashore. But I'll have more want of foot soldiers, I suspect."
Floriszoon nodded. "How many do you think you'll need."
"Thirty more?"
"Take fifty. And then get going. If there's anything I can't stand, it's watching a lazy Irishman loiter about."
**_Off Vieques, Caribbean Sea_**
Eddie Cantrell lowered his binoculars and frowned.
Ove Gjedde's soft-voiced observation was annoying, mostly because it was perfectly accurate. "It is unlikely anything will change so dramatically that you need to examine the enemy every two minutes. They continue to run. We continue to chase. It has been thus since dawn. And the range is closing steadily."
"Yes, steadily. But not fast enough."
Gjedde shrugged at the receding Spanish sails that dominated the western horizon. "Like us, they have fair winds and following seas. Nothing could be better for their galleons. With the exception of our steam-ships, none of our hulls are much faster than theirs."
Eddie nodded, turned about and raised his binoculars to better see the allied fleet behind. Led by the steam-tugged _Amelia_ and _Gelderland_ , eight more Dutch warships had crowded sail to keep up with the USE steamships: _Hollandsche Tuijn_ , _Zeeland_ , __Neptunus__ , _Utrecht_ , _Prins Hendrik_ , _Eenhoorn_ , _Omlandia_ , _Wappen von Rotterdam_. They were among the lighter and swifter Dutch hulls, none carrying more than thirty-eight pieces, but even so, their speed was not much greater than that of the Spanish galleons. Van Galen had loudly protested the decision to send almost all the bigger ships south with Peg Leg Jol to Trinidad, or to be kept as a home guard at Oranjestad, but now, Eddie's foresight was making itself felt as a lived reality. Once the Spanish saw the smoke from the steamships, he'd predicted they might not come straight to grips but do everything they could to maneuver for advantage. However, while the _Intrepid_ and _Resolve_ would be able to quite literally run rings around the Spanish heavies, it would be unwise to fully break formation to do so, not until the enemy was firmly engaged.
Van Galen had scoffed at this doctrine as overly cautious; he even came close to suggesting it was cowardice, at one point. But Eddie had maintained that the fleet sent to Santo Domingo had more need of speed and maneuverability than weight of shot. The steamships provided overmastering firepower on their own, but that would do little good if they raced far ahead of the rest of the fleet. So with the exception of the _Amelia_ and the _Hollandsche Tuijn_ , the other warships of this fleet had been selected for their operational flexibility. So had the five jachts that worked as both pickets and escorts for the four troop- and supply-laden fluyts that wallowed along with the _Serendipity_ at the rear.
And yet, despite all those precautions, the fleet's van had begun to stretch out as the swift lead elements pressed to engage the rear of the Spanish formation. It would have been easy enough to achieve with the steamships alone, but whereas many of the Dutch presumed that the steamships would be able to destroy anything that came close, Eddie eyed the unprecedented number of enemy fore-and-aft rigged ships with concern. They, too, were swift and highly maneuverable, several looking to be highly streamlined jachts. With the seas rising, he could envision being unable to bring his guns to bear upon enough of those hulls swiftly enough to prevent being swarmed by the survivors. So whereas van Galen wished to charge straight ahead, confident that the Spanish would scatter and their galleons would flare and die as one after the other came under the eight-inch guns of the onrushing USE ships, Eddie was uncertain of such an outcome. And so far, Tromp and Gjedde had heeded his uncertainty. But, judging from the signals being flagged between the following ships, the impatience among the fleet's captains was growing.
Beneath him, down at the inter-ship comms position, Eddie heard the wireless start clattering. There were only four radios in the fleet—on _Intrepid_ , _Resolve_ , _Amelia_ , and the yacht _Zuidsterre_ —and messages would not be coming from the latter, since she was not in the command loop and placed well back in the formation. Which meant communiqués were coming exclusively from Tromp or Simonszoon. Which meant, in all probability, another debate.
The runner pounded up the stairs. "Signal from the _Amelia_ , Commander!"
Eddie nodded the boy to give the message to his XO. "Summarize it if you would, Svantner."
"Yes, sir," said the Swede, taking the sheet out of the runner's hand and gesturing for him to wait for a reply. "Admiral Tromp is asking you to respond to Captain Simonszoon's respectful observation that with the enemy at only three miles range, we could increase steam and engage them within the hour. We still have better than four hours of daylight left. Without going so far as pursuing the Spanish into the dark, we could inflict considerable casualties upon them and yet be safely regrouped by nightfall." Svantner looked up slowly, deferentially. No doubt he'd been thinking the same thing. And wondering why they weren't doing it.
And why weren't they? Because Eddie Cantrell had misgivings. Nothing more specific than that: simply misgivings. _Doesn't exactly constitute a sophisticated tactical reason_ , he admitted to himself. _But damn it, sometimes being in command means knowing when to play a hunch. Okay, so I'm the details-and-data guy in this crowd. So I'm the tech-wizard. And so they all think I don't really have the belly for a close-in fight. And who knows? Maybe they're right. But damn it, that's not what's holding me back._
He glanced forward at the Spanish sails again. There had to be damn near sixty of them, and there were probably more farther on. If they'd been able to run up a balloon, they'd have been able to get a look at the seas for thirty-five miles in every direction, which would have been comforting to Eddie. But with the wind gusting erratically, and given that any ship conducting balloon ops lost the use of her mizzenmast, and thus, lost speed, the fleet had to rely upon their last long-range observations, now almost sixty hours old.
But even if the visible sixty sails represented all the Spanish ships between here and Santo Domingo, Eddie still kept coming back to one distressing fact, which he murmured loud enough for Ove Gjedde to hear. "These Spanish must know what happened at the Battle of Grenada Passage. They must know what our steamships can do. So, whatever else they intend, they are not going to come about and sail straight into our guns and their own certain death."
"No," agreed Gjedde in a slightly puzzled tone. "That is why they are fleeing."
"Are they fleeing, do you think?" Eddie raised his eyes to his binoculars again. "I'm not so sure."
Gjedde was silent for a long moment. "They are making good speed away from us."
"Yes. But tell me, Captain, you've seen adversaries fleeing before. Do these Spanish look to be in as much of a hurry as they should be if their objective is to break contact, to get away?"
Gjedde's next silence was even longer. "No," he admitted. "And it is puzzling. But still, whatever their reasons for such a measured withdrawal before us, what risk do we take by closing briefly, sinking several, and regrouping before dusk? Because you must directly answer that very question for Tromp, and soon."
Eddie nodded, and thought, _yeah, but if I give the answer I_ want _to give—"Hell, no: we stay in formation, damn it!"—then Tromp's either got to support me against_ all _the other commanders, or ignore me and give them their way. So, the smart move is to give advice that will calm his officers a bit, while also reigning in any excessive overconfidence. Which isn't the_ best _military advice, but the reality of command is that sometimes, the human factors can be just as decisive as the strategic ones._
"Here's my answer, runner," he said. "Insert stops where needed. To Admiral Tromp. I recommend that _Resolve_ move ahead to engage enemy ships at range. Recommend one thousand yards as closest approach. _Intrepid_ will remain five hundred yards astern of _Resolve_ 's port quarter to cover her flank against any lighter ships that may maneuver to close with her from that side. I presume that will be where they wish to do so, keeping the open waters of the Caribbean to their southerly backs. Recommend that both ships drop back again at four PM to facilitate dusk rendezvous with the rest of the fleet. Very Respectfully, Commander E. Cantrell. Please read that back."
The runner did. Eddie waved him on his way, felt the frown return to his face.
Gjedde nodded. "That was wise."
Eddie shrugged. _Yeah, wise. But it's also stupid. I can feel in my bones that it's not the right move. Now, if only I knew_ why _. . ._
Tromp agreed with Eddie's plan, with the exception that he authorized _Resolve_ to approach the rear of the Spanish van to a range of eight hundred yards. Apparently, though, he had to exert more than a little of his special authority to make his commanders fall in line with the rest of Eddie's recommendations. Van Galen was particularly resistant, and the semaphore exchanges between his ship and Tromp's _Amelia_ , visible through Eddie's fine binoculars even as the main van dropped farther behind, were spirited. In the final analysis, Tromp prevailed upon the inevitable math of the strategic situation. Given that the Dutch ships were slightly faster than the Spanish, they were sure to fully overtake their enemies long before reaching Santo Domingo. In reply to van Galen's point that, with a full head of steam, the USE ships could overtake and destroy them today, Tromp serenely replied that, since it was already noon, waiting another eighteen hours to press home the final attack would make no difference.
The wind was such that the Dutch fleet would be within a mile of the Spaniards' sterns by nine o'clock the next morning. And if the enemy should happen to come about in the middle of the night, their square rigged galleons would be putting their bowsprits into the eye of the wind and so, be in irons. Unable to close or maneuver, they would be lucky to blunder within sighting distance, much less shooting range, of a target. Furthermore, if the Spanish hoped to continue making maximum headway as a fleet even after the sun had set, their stern lights would show any course changes they might make. If, instead, they doused those lights, they would be hopelessly scattered by the first rose of dawn. In short, there was no rush. One way or the other, the Dutch fleet would be upon the enemy tomorrow. Which meant that Commander Cantrell's recommendations for a more measured approach did not threaten the surety of a decisive engagement with the fleeing foe, and so had the virtue of prudence against unforeseen events. Van Galen's flags ceased to signal except to acknowledge receipt of the admiral's last message.
By that time, Simonszoon had raced ahead, prompting Eddie to wonder just how much coal the senior Dutch captain had already burned throughout the day. Perhaps infatuated with the new technology at his disposal, Simonszoon's _Resolve_ had been putting out more smoke than the _Intrepid_ and had been less assiduous about courting the winds. But there was no way to ask Dirck if he'd been careless about his fuel levels without also insulting him and possibly souring what was both a growing friendship and crucial ally among the command ranks. Besides, there was no longer any time to do so.
By one o'clock in the afternoon, the _Resolve_ had closed to within eighteen hundred yards of the rearmost galleon in the Spanish formation, The lighter _patache_ s and almost piratical-looking yachts scattered away from the big USE cruiser as she bore down upon them. The eight-inch rifle of Mount One spoke, putting a spout in the water at least eighty yards astern of the galleon's port quarter. The second shot was somewhat better, but not by much. The third rolling report was followed by a white plume erupting thirty yards aft and ten yards wide of the target's rudder.
When the fourth round overshot the ship by fifty yards, Eddie closed his eyes, fearing that he knew what was transpiring on board the _Resolve_ 's bridge at that very moment. Eager to draw first blood, thrilled but also anxious about taking the up-time ship into combat, the typically unflappable Dirck Simonszoon had given in to the temptation to show everyone in the fleet, and perhaps most particularly Eddie, that he was indeed the right commander for _Resolve_. And so, at the longest range yet attempted, he had started firing at the lumbering Spanish galleon. But since there was no ammunition to waste, he'd had only enough actual gunnery practice to familiarize himself with the inclinometer and the exacting nature of the deck-guns. So in his eagerness to prove himself quickly and decisively, he'd missed.
And then missed three more times. And no doubt felt that if he was proving anything to the rest of the fleet, it was that he did not belong in command of _Resolve_. After all, the young up-timer Cantrell rarely missed more than three times. Unfortunately, the subtleties of wave height, speed, target profile, and the differences between effective and practical range were probably not at the front of Simonszoon's awareness where they belonged, but following behind his increasing frustration and realization that he had engaged the enemy too soon. And even further behind that thought was any latent cognizance that Eddie and Pros Mund had made it look so easy because when they fired, they had always enjoyed the advantages of optimal sea conditions, close range, and significant training.
No doubt Rik Bjelke was trying to provide a patient voice of experience, but Simonszoon, for all his many intellectual virtues, was also a proud man who had never, it was said, encountered the situation that he could not handle. As uncomfortable as the fifth and sixth misses were to watch from the deck of the _Intrepid_ , Eddie could only imagine the torture of suppressed counsel and soaring frustration that predominated upon the bridge of _Resolve_.
The _Resolve_ 's guns stilled after the sixth miss and, soon after, a prodigious increase of smoke started pouring out her stack. The cruiser jumped forward at what must have been full steam, bearing down upon the Spaniards at almost thirteen knots, her prow slicing through the seas so sharply and powerfully that she was less susceptible to the chop. At eleven hundred yards from the Spaniard, her forward mount fired again, missed long by only fifteen yards, and then the rear mount put a solid shell through the galleon's stern windows.
There was no discernible response from the Spaniard other than a slight loss of speed. Within forty seconds, the _Resolve_ 's forward eight-inch rifle spoke again, and this time, an explosive shell blasted a raging furrow three-quarters of the way across the galleon's quarter deck. Fires sprang up in several places, and the ship sheered sharply to starboard, losing way.
Showing the tactical aptitudes that made him such an excellent commander in even these unfamiliar circumstances, Simonszoon immediately ignored that crippled ship, understanding she would not be able to keep up with her fleet and was therefore no longer a threat. Closing to nine hundred yards with his next target, Simonszoon began firing again, but this time, more slowly and steadily. This time, he was probably taking more time to gauge swells, make sure he kept his course and speed rock steady while the gunners adjusted their firing solution, and was listening to the advice of Rik Bjelke. The forward mount's second shot fell just short of the next galleon's prow and the third struck her dead amidships in the gun deck closest to the waterline.
At this range, the impact looked simply like a puff of dust. Seen through Eddie's binoculars, it would have been a split-second tornado of shattered strakes, planking, and gunners. A moment later, secondary explosions started erupting from within the ship. One sent out a brief flicker of orange flame, hastily superseded by a vast plume of gray smoke. While her magazine did not go up, fires built rapidly in her lower decks and she, too, lost speed and heading.
As Simonszoon shifted course to bring his cruiser closer to a third target, Svantner muttered, "Commander, two points off the port bow: _patache_ breaking back in toward _Resolve_."
Eddie shifted his glasses and saw the Spaniard in question. She had been one of the half dozen lighter fore-and-aft rigged ships that had scattered like startled doves at the white-waked approach of the _Resolve_. Since then, she had slowly, casually reversed course, and was now angling in toward the lead USE ship. Behind that _patache_ , Eddie saw two more sails slowly tilting over in the same direction, the ships beneath them heeling over into a close-reach to double back in a way that the square-rigged galleons of the Spanish fleet could not.
Eddie felt a painful pulse of premonition flare up in the same, chest-center spot that older men complained of heartburn. He dropped the binoculars from his eyes and scanned the horizon and flanks. Ove Gjedde was doing the same thing, squinting and frowning ferociously.
"You see it?" he asked the old Dane.
Gjedde nodded. "Yes. The smaller ships have not been keeping up with their fleet as swiftly as they did at first. They have been dropping back."
"Into a position from which they can pull just that kind of flanking maneuver." Eddie pushed out his chin. "Well, let's make them think the better of it. Helmsman, bring us two points to starboard so that both our rifles will bear on that _patache_. Intraship, message for Mounts One and Two: Get me a firing solution for that _patache_. And be careful to lead her. She's at speed and leaving a bone-white wake."
"Aye, Commander!"
Gjedde was peering around more aggressively. "Commander, I think you were right."
"Right? About what?"
Intraship interrupted. "Commander, Mount Two reports it has a solution."
"Fire when ready and continue tracking. Same order to Mount One when it reports a solution."
"Aye, sir." And the deck shook as Mount Two, only thirty-five feet behind them, roared.
Gjedde shook his head. "This _patache_ , and the others, they are not receiving signals. They are pressing the flank of _Resolve_ without orders."
Eddie nodded. "Which is to say, they _already_ have orders to do so."
"Yes. This is part of the Spanish plan."
Mount One's discharge sent a shudder back under their feet and a long gray-white plume out over the port bow.
Eddie nodded. "Yes, but the plan is not complete."
"What do you mean?" Gjedde asked.
"I mean there's something missing. They must know we're not stupid enough to charge straight into them"— _well, except van Galen_ —"and even at this close an approach to their van, they still can't flank us beyond our steamships' abilities to turn around and both flee and shoot our way out of any attempt to trap us."
As if to prove that point, Mount Two's second shot went through the mainsail of the _patache_ , which sheered off to port and away from the two USE ships.
Gjedde nodded. "Yes, that is true. Presuming this is part of a larger trap."
Eddie stopped and felt his misgivings suddenly coalesce into a hard, sharp, painful point directly behind his sternum. "Of course. These light ships, these fleeing galleons: they're not the trap. They're just flypaper."
"What do you mean?" asked Gjedde, but it was the maintop lookout who shouted out the answer that Eddie dreaded hearing.
"Enemy sails off the port beam, coming over the southern horizon! Dozens of 'em and closing quickly!"
Eddie turned to Gjedde. "Now, their trap is complete."
**_Slopes of The Quill, St. Eustatia_**
For the fifth time in as many minutes, Michael McCarthy, Jr., wished he had his father's .45 with him. Two Kalinago warriors appeared out of the trees just ahead of him, making for the antenna's ninth array line. But with the phenomenal senses of jungle-trained hunters, one heard a pebble snap out from under the up-timer's boot and turned.
Mike cursed, both at having to kill again and not having the best tool with which to do it. He raised his Hockenjoss & Klott .44 caliber black powder revolver and brought his left hand in for a two-handed grip. He fired.
The first warrior didn't seem to know he'd been hit square in the sternum. He managed to take two leaping steps, war club raised, before his eyes opened wide. He flinched and fell with a strangled cry.
But Michael missed his first shot at the other, who had either more presence of mind, more experience with firearms or both. The hatchet-armed warrior ducked, sidestepped, then charged.
The sidestep fooled Mike, who missed again. But the Kalinago had probably not encountered a weapon capable of so many shots and charged Mike directly, evidently believing himself safe.
At only four feet range, he learned his error. Mike, gritting his teeth to firm his nerve, fired twice. The Kalinago, hit in the shoulder by the first round, lagged and turned slightly in that direction, just before the next round hit him high in the diaphragm. He fell, bleeding heavily, but still trying to sweep his hatchet at Mike's tibia.
Mike stepped back and moved around the warrior, whose attempts to yell for help and more warriors were no more than hoarse wheezes. Mike, panting in the heat and humidity, crossed to the other side of the ninth and last spokelike array line that descended sharply from the summit of The Quill to its rain-forested skirts. He slipped into the trees and continued to run like hell.
Heading down the slope that would ultimately bring him to the western outskirts of Oranjestad's tent city, Mike finally reached what he'd been striving toward since the attack had begun almost half an hour ago: the groomed _ghut_ his workers used as both a run-off sluice for their construction camp, and a wide and direct porter's trail when it was dry. It was hardly an ideal arrangement—almost nothing in the seventeenth century Caribbean seemed to be—but it was a less treacherous path when moving heavy, cumbersome, and yet fragile equipment.
But that wasn't the reason Mike had made for it in the middle of what seemed to be a widespread sneak attack. Instead, he had been told by some of his African workers—well, New World-born _cimarrons_ , according to them—that the Kalinago would not suspect a _ghut_ to be usable as a trail. The Kalinago were the masters of these islands; they were intimately familiar with how to look at a patch of jungle or the side of an overgrown mountain and predict where the streams and run-offs, or _ghuts_ , would be, as well as the game trails, the rocky versus loamy slopes, and the rough gradient of them all.
However, the notion of a _ghut_ being widened, groomed, and used as a trail would not be a part of their compendium of natural clues. In fact, quite the contrary, since the courses of most _ghuts_ were narrow, rocky, and treacherous. Accordingly, Mike had reasoned it was likely to be the safest path down the western side of the mountain. And from the look of it, he'd been right.
He hadn't been the only person who'd reasoned this out, apparently. Approximately fifty yards farther down the _ghut_ , he caught sight of two figures making their way swiftly downward, one a broadly built white man, the other a lithe and muscular black man. Not daring to shout, Michael doubled his already headlong pace, and before long, the other two, hearing the noise, turned toward him, weapons ready.
Mike waved a greeting, got a wave in return and the two waited, crouching cautiously. They rose when he approached, and Mike couldn't help but smile. "Good to see you made it out, Bert, Kwesi."
Bert Kortenaer took his left hand off his musket's forestock and shook Mike's hand. "And good to see you, too, Mike. I confess, I feared you might be one of the first killed."
"Huh. Let's get going while I learn why you were in such a rush to see me hustled to my eternal reward."
"Now, Mike—" started Bert.
"He only means, Michael, that we knew you were restringing wires on the fourth array, today." Kwesi frowned, moving swiftly, steadying his progress with his left hand, his wood axe ready in his right. "How did you get here so quickly? I mean no disrespect, Michael, but you are more of a thinker than a runner."
Michael considered his medium build and less than flat stomach. "I don't know how much of a thinker I am, but you're right that I'm no runner. Never was. But today, it wasn't my head or my feet that saved me."
"No?" asked Bert. "Then what was it."
"Luck. In my case, dumb luck. Literally. I was halfway to array four when I realized I'd forgotten my toolkit back at my tent near array seven. I didn't make it back down yesterday, so decided to stay overnight on the slopes. I was just picking up the tools when I heard the first gunshots."
Kwesi seemed to shiver. "What is happening, Michael? We have seen both Kalinago and white men attacking workers. Together. The white men are French, Mr. Kortenaer says. What are they doing here?"
Mike almost twisted his ankle between a stray root-end and a boulder that had been too large to lift out of the _ghut_. "Trying to destroy our radio, from the looks of it. They've been cutting wires as they go, and if they hadn't stopped to do that, they might have overrun us all before we get to town. Which we need to do as quickly as possible."
"To push them off The Quill?"
Mike stared at Bert. "To keep them from rolling Oranjestad into the sea. When I came to the clear ridge-line near array eight, I got a chance to look down the eastern slopes." Remembering the sight made Mike shiver slightly. "I didn't know what I was seeing at first. It looked like the ground between the trees was rippling. Then I realized: all those were men, moving up the slopes from wherever they landed on the windward side of the island. Which is why they must be here to knock out the radio. They came ashore where we couldn't see, where Oranjestad would not have any eyes or ears."
"There are some farmers near the eastern shore," Kwesi said grimly. "It's where I must work when I am not working for you, Michael."
"Yeah, I know, but all the farms are farther north, in the cross-island fertile belt. I'm guessing these attackers, who must number over a thousand, came ashore farther south, right at the foot of the mountain."
"That's nothing but rough surf and rocks, there, Mike," Bert observed.
"Yeah, but the Kalinago were born to them and they were willing to take the chance to get the jump on us. Which they've pretty much done." Mike's recent memories seemed to flit across his present vision like the images of an old-style slide projector skipping along a wall. He saw three of his most reliable and agreeable workers hacked down to the ground by half a dozen Kalinago who seemed to appear like ghosts out of the wood, the blood flying up with every backswing of their axes. He saw David, the silent Dutch sailor who had come to love the radio and everything about it, running to alert the camp at array seven, shot in the back by a Frenchman. And when the tow-headed youngster got up, blood smearing the front of his shirt, to try to continue raising the alarm, four Kalinago arrows burrowed into his back with singing whispers. Mike, not thinking clearly, had emptied his revolver at the first attackers who came close, improbably causing a brief lull in the entire attack. But in hindsight, that had been nothing more than the enemy mistaking the revolver's rate of fire for an unexpected number of defenders on site.
"Who else made it out?" Bert asked quietly.
Mike shook his head. "Don't know. All I saw were people running every direction. Some were us, some were them. Most of our technical crew was not on the mountain last night. Just you, David, and Gerben were up there. But our workers—"
Kwesi shook his head. "My people will flee if they can, but will not die without a fight. Particularly not now that they can hope for freedom in a few years."
Mike nodded as they skittered down the last few yards of the _ghut_. _And if we hadn't made sure of that eventual freedom, your people might be joining forces with the Kalinago right now. And hell, who could blame them if they had done so, anyway? Not like we colonizers have a long, proud history of keeping our promises._ "A lot of the workers were going toe-to-toe with the Kalinago, machetes against hatchets. Gave at least as good as they were getting. I shouted at those guys to run, but a lot just smiled and kept swinging."
"They are warriors, most of them," Kwesi explained quietly. "They were sold to your slave-traders because they were taken prisoner by victorious tribes. Given the promise of freedom, there is honor to be reclaimed in defending the ground they worked with you, Michael."
Mike felt suddenly shamed that he had not stayed on the slopes of The Quill and died with them. Even though he had known, from the moment he saw the invaders, that he had to perform an even more important task: alert Oranjestad. "Let's go," he said as the _ghut_ leveled off, leading to Oranjestad's outskirts. "I figure we've got about ten minutes to raise a defense."
Jean du Plessis peered down from the western slope of The Quill, watching the handful of survivors scatter away from its base toward Oranjestad. Behind him, almost all the long, coated wires had been hacked down from there they were secured to high, straight, well-pruned trees. "We are done here then? The radio is disabled?"
D'Esnambuc's nephew, Jacques Dyel du Parque, frowned at the swinging wires. "For now."
"Well, that is as we wanted it, yes?"
Jacques nodded. "Yes, Monsieur du Plessis, but I am concerned that it may not be enough."
"What? Why?"
Jacques pointed at the dozen mite-sized figures sprinting toward the outskirts of Oranjestad. "If they succeed in raising a defense, we may not be able to hold this position. Or remain on St. Eustatia at all."
Du Plessis almost sneered. "And what defense could they raise?"
Jacques raised his finger toward the west as de l'Olive approached, half of his French musketeers just behind him. "Monsieur du Plessis, how many ships do you count in the bay?"
Du Plessis scowled, covered his eyes, although fortunately, the sun was not too far advanced. "About twenty. About a third are jachts. At least three are simply fluyts. None have even weighed anchor, yet."
"Quite true, monsieur. But we did not expect to see so many here, according to the landholders who responded to our bribes. They thought that only a handful would be left."
"What's your point, Jacques?" De l'Olive sounded far less impatient that du Plessis felt.
"Only this, my friend: how many ship's troops would be upon them?"
"A few hundred, at least," de l'Olive murmured with a nod.
"So even though we might prevail in Oranjestad, we might not be able to hold it."
"They shall not shell their own town, even with us in it," du Plessis sniffed.
"No, but you mean to burn it, monsieur. And if you do so, there will be no town left for their guns to spare, and so, no reason for them to remain silent. However, the fort will remain. Which, if my spyglass shows me correctly, is still manned. I would say close to a hundred troops, from what I have counted over the past half hour. They will delay us considerably, no?"
Du Plessis wanted to disagree, but thought the better of it. First, the otherwise ruthless and hard-nosed d'Esnambuc doted on his nephew like a pampered puppy. Second, the young fellow was making sense. Unfortunately. "So what are you suggesting, Monsieur Dyel du Parque?"
The nephew shook his head. "I am loath to say it, for it runs counter to my uncle's fondest hopes, but I do not think we can afford to save the radio. I suspect we will not be able to hold Oranjestad, once we take it. And if my reading is correct, a radio so large as this one will be too cumbersome and fragile to move."
Du Plessis glanced at the wires behind him once again. "Are you saying that we will now have to cut up all these—?"
Jacques shook his head. "No. There is neither the time for that, nor will it serve our purpose. The wire is not irreplaceable. But I suspect the radio itself is. So we must attack Oranjestad, burn it, but make sure we find the radio and demolish it. Then, if we must withdraw, we will still have crippled our adversaries. As we must, if we are to take all of St. Christopher's and expand throughout these islands."
Du Plessis was still getting used to the conceptual changes when de l'Olive nodded and smiled. "You are your uncle's boy, all right. He'll approve. I know it. So, how do we find the radio? What will it look like?"
Jacques gestured toward the cluster of wires that ran down the hill along several converging paths. "We follow the wires. Like the heads of a hydra, they can be replaced. But at the root of them all is the heart of their operation. Which will look like a large machine with wires going into it. And hooked up to some kind of electrical power source."
"Electri—what?" De l'Olive stumbled over the words, gave up.
"More wires," Dyel du Parque supplied, "which carry the energy that the radio uses to receive and send signals. Those wires will be hooked up to a steam plant, or a windmill, or something that takes the work of a turning wheel and turns it into the needed energy."
"And once we find it? Hammers?"
Jacques seemed to flinch in regret. "Yes. Hammers will do."
Du Plessis sheathed his sword, checked his pistols. "Well, then, de l'Olive, you have the information you need. Gather our musketeers and the Kalinagos so armed, also. I suspect we'll need them to break through whatever defense these lazy Dutch manage to throw up in the next few minutes."
Cuthbert Pudsey was gasping for breath when Anne Cathrine bid him enter. "My ladies, make haste! Ye've got to get to the hidey-holes we have built into the—"
"Mr. Pudsey, you may see for yourself that we will not be requiring that protection." Anne Cathrine had already made a trip to the secondary arsenal and returned with an armload of new flintlock muskets, percussion cap pistols, and powder flasks.
"But ladies, your safety was placed in my care, and besides, you are—"
"Mr. Pudsey," Anne Cathrine said, straightening up, "we are able-bodied persons who may help defend this largely unpopulated town. Unless I am wrong, there are but ninety-five men in this fort, true?"
"You are correct, but—"
"And presuming my husband tells me the truth, and my own eyes have not been lying these past weeks, we have few more to spare. Twelve hundred embarked to do battle at Santo Domingo. For which three hundred were furloughed from their defense of the English properties on St. Christopher's, which now has only one company scattered among its many plantations. Furthermore, almost half of the Irish Wild Geese are defending their fort on Trinidad, along with one hundred and fifty Dutchmen. And almost three hundred and fifty more are, necessarily, embarked upon our ships in the bay, should they be required to sail to repulse a Spanish attack. Are my numbers accurate?"
Pudsey swallowed. "I-I think so, Lady Anne Cathrine, but the officers aren't in the habit of informing me—"
"And allow me to conjecture that the landowners have not yet begun to gather in defense of the town," added Sophie.
Pudsey blinked. "How did you know—?"
"Mr. Pudsey," Anne Cathrine snapped, "you may or may not have noticed that the largest landowners are also the largest slave owners, and that none of them are fond of Admiral Tromp or the policies he has championed for their slaves' eventual transition to freepersons. Clearly, they did not respond when the alarm bell on The Quill was rung earlier this morning, nor to the musketry we heard there. Nor have they come here to help defend the town, or secure their own safety. Possibly because many of them have no reason to fear the attackers."
The implication of treason hung unspoken in the air for a second. "And so," Sophie finished calmly, "if we cannot expect help from many of the landowners, how will we defend the town? I know Captain Arciszewski has signaled for Admiral Banckert to send some of his troops ashore, but the attackers will be in our streets before those boats are through the surf." She slipped two decidedly nonmilitary fowling pieces over her arm and walked toward the door in which he was standing. "So, with your permission or without it, Mr. Pudsey, the king's daughters and I will take our places among what few defenders we have."
"I'll get Captain Arciszewski to send fifty men from the fort," Pudsey sputtered hastily. "And I'll come along wid' ye to—"
Anne Cathrine shook her head. "And then who shall defend this fort if half its soldiers leave, simply to protect us? The captain, and you, and all the others must man these walls until Admiral Banckert's relief arrives. Because if we do not succeed turning back the invaders at the outskirts of town, this fort will be our last foothold in Oranjestad, and her guns must not be turned on the fleet."
"But . . . but who shall take charge of the defense of the outskirts when—?"
Leonora shrugged. "Unless I am much mistaken, I believe I have heard Mr. McCarthy all the way from the other end of the town, just before the fire bell began ringing there."
"You did? What was he saying?"
Leonora blushed. "As a lady, I may not repeat it. But we are responding to his summons. All of us."
Hugh O'Donnell glanced at the young man—just a boy, really—who was piloting the _Orthros_ at least as much as the man at her whipstaff, a Dutchman simply named Aart. "Are you sure of the depth here, Mr. van der Zaan?"
The lanky, tow-headed adolescent smiled a wide, bright smile. "Oh, Lord O'Donnell, you can call me Willem. Or just Willi. That's what Admiral Tromp calls me."
"Very well, then, Willi," Hugh responded with a similar smile. "Now tell me, how close can we come to the shore in that bay?" Hugh pointed to an inlet just south of the wide sweep of the anchorage in front of Oranjestad proper.
Willi tapped the helmsman on the shoulder, indicated he should sheer to port half a point. "I'd say about ten yards from shore, Lord O'Donnell. But your men will be in five feet of water, there."
Aart shook his head. "Though you've dumped all the ballast on the way here, you'll still run her aground if you go that far into Gallows Bay."
"I don't think so," Willi mumbled with a faint frown. "Right now, the tides give us a little more leeway. And if we did get caught, it would be by such a small bit that we can kedge ourselves off the sand. There's a patch of rocky bottom just a few yards away, if we keep ourselves due west of that driftwood cask on the beach."
Hugh nodded at Aart. "We're going to follow Willi's advice." He looked back into the faces of both the veteran and newly recruited Wild Geese, as well as the Dutch soldiers crowded upon the deck. "All armor off. Bag your weapons and your powder, and hold them over your head. It's not far to shore, but some of you will be up to your eyebrows for a moment or two."
"Lord O'Donnell," appealed Aart, "once again, please consider landing on the main strand just to the west of the town. It's smooth sands there, easy for your men, and easier for me to sail in and out."
"I know," Hugh answered, "but you heard what our lookout spied before we reefed sail and starting hiding our approach. The attackers are approaching the east edge of Oranjestad. If we port to the west, we'll be doing no better than the boats we've seen Admiral Banckert lowering into the water. We'll get there too late. And we'll be coming from the direction that they expect. And there's one thing I've learned in my years of soldiering, Aart—never, ever do what your enemy expects. Which means that as soon as you drop us in the briny, you come about and head back south around The Quill and worry them from the windward side of the island. But don't shell their boats. Give 'em room and the ability to run. We don't want them bottled here on this island with us." He turned to the men behind him. "Now, boys, ready along the starboard gunwale. We go in smooth and silent, make for land, regroup and then fast march. And remember, you don't shout or shoot until I tell you to."
**_Oranjestad, St. Eustatia_**
Anne Cathrine nodded to Michael McCarthy, Jr., who had seemed fairly calm until he caught a glimpse of the three Danish ladies entering the makeshift defenses. Their arrival had elicited the same degree of desperate solicitousness that had so afflicted Cuthbert Pudsey only five minutes earlier. Strange. Although up-time men were so ready to confer equality upon women in so many matters, they were no different than their down-time brothers when it came to the matter of combat. In some ways it made up-time male attitudes towards women frustratingly inconsistent and yet, familiar.
But the three Danish ladies had stood their ground against Michael McCarthy's objections. They pointed out that a dozen other Dutch women were in the defense lines, mostly to reload the muskets of the men who were sheltering in the trenches or behind the hasty, flimsy barrel barricades that flanked them. Michael had countered that those women were the exception, not the rule, and that most of the women had complied with his order to stay away from the coming battlefield. Anne Cathrine had listened through to the end of his exhortations, and then promptly turned on her heel, but not to depart the defenses. Rather, she began crying an alarm among the tents, calling specifically upon women to come out and take their places along the barricades or in the ditches. Michael had rolled his eyes but had been too busy, or maybe too sensible, to waste any more time trying to end what he could not even forestall.
Looking out toward the dust cloud being raised by the approaching enemy, Anne Cathrine surveyed their defenses. Two ditches guarded the eastern approaches to the town. Each offered waist-deep cover for fifteen men, at most. Most of the soldiers were there, along with a few of the townsmen who had turned out to help. The barricades were manned by the balance of the soldiers and townsmen, the workers who'd made it off The Quill, and those few landowners who had decided to throw their lot in with their neighbors.
She approached the northern trench, where Sophie was calmly surveying the enemy's approach, a fowling piece in her long, slender hands. Leonora waited just behind her, ramrod, powder and balls at the ready. Anne Cathrine wondered if there was some argument, any argument, that she could use to get Leonora off the line. At least one of them should take care to survive this battle and so, be a consolation to their father. "Leonora," Anne Cathrine murmured, "should you not be in the infirmary, ready to help Dr. Brandão with the wounded?"
Leonora's smile was small as she shook her head. "I think not, Sister. If these attackers break our ranks here, they will be upon the infirmary in three minutes and slay all there. So here is the best place where I may work to ensure that the wounded actually have someplace to be treated. Besides," she said, patting the closest powder horn, "I have made a study of the loading and reloading actions undertaken by the soldiers at the fort, when they are at drill. I think I shall make a useful reloader for Sophie."
Sophie nodded. "She seems quite adept."
Anne Cathrine raised an eyebrow. "And you? You are a soldier, too, Sophie?"
"No, Anne Cathrine, but I grew up on wooded estates with a father who, as sheriff, took pleasure in hunting for much of the meat that graced our table." She smiled. "He took great pains to pass some of those skills on to me, at least when it came to shooting waterfowl. So I suspect I may be of some use, here."
"I'm sure you shall be. I wish _I_ was of more use."
Sophie stared at her. "You really do not see how the other women look at you?"
"What?"
"Anne Cathrine, they see you carrying that pistol, walking behind these trenches. They do not think, 'there walks the king's daughter, who knows not how to help.' They think, 'there walks the king's daughter, who gave us the courage to join our men here on these lines, who moves behind us like our better conscience, proof that to be a woman is not to be weak.' If you were not here, and visibly so, there would be far fewer women here now. And our numbers may yet help decide the outcome of this battle."
"I truly hope so, Sophie, I truly—"
With a savage cacophony of war cries, shouts, and taunts that shared not a single syllable in common, the Kalinago warriors began sprinting across the three hundred yards between them and the meager defenses of Oranjestad. Following them a hundred yards farther back at a modest trot were what looked like musketeers, some European, some native.
Michael McCarthy's voice was loud and surprisingly authoritative. "Hold your fire till they clear the stubble of the closest canebrake. That's about one hundred yards. Reloaders, you need to grab the shooters' spent muskets right away and reload them quickly. If you do that, we'll get off three volleys, which might break them. If you don't, we'll get off two and they're likely to overrun us. Now stay down and under cover until you get the order to fire."
Anne Cathrine rushed into the rear of the trench, next to Leonora, and watched the horde of Kalinago warriors approach. They wore little, bore brutal-looking clubs, stopped here and there to fire their bows. They were good marksmen, but only a few shafts found flesh through the gaps in the cover, and only one of those hits was fatal.
Seeing the Kalinago looming like a wave, and the arrows flying towards them, many of the defenders became restless. One of them in the southern ditch raised up on one elbow, sighted his wheel lock rifle, eased the hammer back—
"You there!" shouted Michael. "You can track a target, but if you fire, I swear to God, I'll shoot you myself." The restlessness in the trenches subsided slightly.
The Kalinago came on, the volcanic cone of The Quill rising up behind them like a green pyramid erected by a cockeyed, atavistic island god. It seemed impossible that the near-naked warriors could run so quickly, so far, and it defied belief when, as they cleared the canebrake, the first of the mob redoubled their already considerable speed into a flat-out charge.
Anne Cathrine watched McCarthy, who, tensely watching the approach, waited two more seconds before he cried. "Fire!"
Almost a hundred muskets spoke in a loose sputter along the barricades and trenches. Perhaps a third that number of the natives staggered, cried out, or fell limp. However, the Kalinago had done battle with Europeans before and expected no less. And today, they still had at least seven hundred warriors in the field.
Anne Cathrine raised her pistol, knew not to fire until the third volley, felt her underarms, back, and brow awash with sweat that owed nothing to the heat of the sun. McCarthy's voice grew increasingly stentorian. "Swap muskets! Reloaders, we're depending on you. Shooters: aim . . . and . . . fire!"
The second volley was even more ragged, but did more damage, in part because the persons using fowling pieces and musketoons were now at range. Only fifty yards away, almost forty of the Kalinago went down. Many of the survivors drew up short—but not because they intended to flee, but rather to return fire.
Arrows keened among the barricades and clipped into the edges of the ditches. Several found their mark, promising the fate that was now overtaking those who had been hit earlier: poison-inflicted convulsions. The leading edge of the warriors was now ragged where it had been chewed at by the Dutch musketry, and none of those natives still had bows in hand. Instead, their war clubs were held far back, primed for skull-crushing blows.
Anne Cathrine raised her pistol and looked for a warrior who was either larger or more adorned than the others. She found one, cocked the weapon's hammer, then gripped the handle of her gun with both hands, just as Eddie had taught her. She wished—very strongly, and throughout her whole body—that she could have seen and held Eddie just one more time. Then she was aware of nothing except for the Kalinago warrior she could see over the brass bead atop the end of her pistol's muzzle. To either side of her, the reloaders were pushing the first muskets back into the shooter's hands, then drawing their own pistols or swords. She wanted to glance at Michael McCarthy, wondered if he hadn't called for the last volley because perhaps he'd been hit with an arrow, feared that maybe someone else—she herself?—had to take charge now, give the final order to—
"Fire!" shouted McCarthy.
Anne Cathrine was both too relieved and too focused to double-guess her aim. She fired the double-charged pistol, saw the male torso upon which the muzzle was superimposed stagger and fall out of the sight picture. Along the line, the blast of musketry was more uniform, and louder, with the loaders' pistols contributing to it. And from behind, she heard the sound of running feet approaching—but only a few. Had some of the natives gotten behind them, sneaked in through town from the north—?
She hadn't the time to think. Although the Kalinagos had taken horrible losses with this volley, many of the charging warriors were too far ahead of the wave of casualties to be stunned or panicked by that destruction. They sprinted closer, racing toward the trenches and the barricades, suddenly so near that Anne Cathrine could make out the individual teeth in their mouths as they shrieked their war cries and thirst for mortal vengeance—
From behind, a fusillade of pistol fire startled her. Had the rest of the soldiers been sent from the fort? Turning, she discovered the gunfire was coming from fewer than a dozen men: the Wild Geese who'd still been in the infirmary, now wielding their revolvers with deadly, much-practiced precision among the Kalinago who most closely approached the defensive lines. Several made it to the northern barricade, but there, Michael McCarthy's own, larger cap-and-ball revolver sent out a steady stream of thunderclaps.
Its leading lines of skirmishers slain, the main body of the Kalinago broke and ran for the rear, suddenly silent in retreat. But they did not go far. Upon encountering the musketeers behind them, they formed up into a mass once again. Voices that both berated and encouraged them in two foreign languages—Kalinago and French—soon had them turned back around, crouching as they sorted themselves into archers and skirmishers. Soon, arrows were sailing across the two hundred yard gap. The whining shafts did not find any victims—it was well beyond the optimum range of what were essentially self-bows—but they were keeping the defenders pinned down. Hearing the dying gasps and shuddering cries of even those who had been modestly wounded by the arrows, the allied defenders were unwilling to expose themselves, making communication and movement difficult.
Sophie turned around, a long bang of sweaty hair hanging down in front of her face. "I do not think we will survive the next attack," she commented with what Anne Cathrine heard as her surreal Norn-calm.
"Why?" asked Leonora.
"They know where we are, they know what weapons we have, and they will bring up their musketeers, this time. When we rise to fire at them, they will no doubt fire at us." Sophie shrugged. "How many times can we afford such an exchange?"
The Kalinago, now aided by the French, were obviously eager to find the answer to that very question. With the rain of arrows still coming in at a shallow arc, the skirmishers began arranging themselves into rude ranks.
As they did, one of the most plainly dressed loaders rose up from her position further down the trench to dig a pistol out of a bag she had left unattended a few yards away. When her plain workman's hat fell aside briefly, it revealed the smoke-smudged face of Edel Mund.
"Lady Mund!" Anne Cathrine exclaimed. "What are you—?"
"I am doing the same thing you are, Lady Anne Cathrine. I am fighting to defend this town."
"Then get down, Lady Mund! One of the native arrows could easily—"
Edel's mouth was a brittle-lipped line as she muttered. "I do not fear that."
"Granted we might die here, but none of us deserves to—"
Edel Mund wheeled on the younger woman. "You are wrong. Some of us do deserve to die. Particularly those of us who caused the deaths of others."
Leonora gaped. "But what—what are you saying—?"
"Do you really not understand? Do you not see that it was I who killed my own husband?"
Anne Cathrine blinked, then realized she'd half forgotten about the regrouping Kalinagos. "You—?"
"A fief on Iceland. A generous gift, I suppose, your father intended it to be. But—Iceland. As grim and lifeless a place as God or devil ever conceived or created. And then, Pros was given the chance to come here, to lead a fleet to the New World. To please your father, the king. Perhaps we would have been given land somewhere near Skaelskor, or maybe even here in the New World."
"And how," Leonora asked as the native war cries began rising again, "did that hope kill him?"
Edel Mund glared at her. "The hope didn't kill him, because it wasn't important to him." She closed her eyes. "It was my hope, mine alone. And _I_ was what was important to him. Me and my happiness. Pros was determined to do anything to please me, to allow me to escape our fief on Iceland forever. And I"—her eyes became fixed and bright—"and I let him. Did I forbid him to take the risks that I knew— _knew_ —he planned to take? To seize Spanish ships for his king to purchase my happiness with those war-prizes? No. I allowed him to destroy himself. All because I wanted a little more sun, and a little less ice, I allowed my husband to go to his death. As fine a man, as good a man, as caring a man as ever lived, despite his stoic silences. And my pettiness killed him, just as certainly as had I driven a dagger into his back myself."
"But Lady Mund—" began Leonora.
Whatever Anne Cathrine's sister had intended to say was lost when, with a single shout that sounded a great deal like "Tegreman!" the Kalinago skirmishers started forward. Now in loosely organized ranks, they came on at a slower trot, closely followed by almost two-hundred native and French musketeers. To Anne Cathrine's eyes, the French were armed with quite modern weapons—snaphaunces and even a few percussion-cap rifles, from the look of them—whereas most of the natives were armed with older Spanish pieces. They would not fire so quickly or so accurately as their French allies, but given their numbers, it would hardly matter.
Even now, as the leading Kalinago skirmishers reapproached the stubble of the last canebrake, the reloaders were just finally passing weapons back into the hands of the shooters. The Wild Geese had taken cover among the crates surrounding the radio shack, and both they and McCarthy were busy reloading. Sophie was right. The defenders would not fire so many times, nor so well, this time, and would be facing a hail of musketry while doing so.
Someone tapped her on the arm. It was Leonora, holding up Anne Cathrine's reloaded pistol. Startled, Anne Cathrine looked down at her younger sister. "But I didn't hand you my—?"
"No, I just slipped the weapon out of your fingers. You were inspecting the battlefield. Confirming Sophie's assessment of our chances, I suspect."
Anne Cathrine nodded, then reached down and gave her sister a fierce hug. She shot a glance at Sophie, meaning to put the same affection into it, but the Danish noblewoman was already facing the Kalinago, fowling piece raised to her shoulder.
"Ready on the line!" shouted a new, authoritative voice: Aodh O'Rourke's.
The lead skirmishers of the Kalinago, now about seventy yards away, were beginning to separate. If the two ends of their lead rank kept splitting farther apart, neither would be funneled by the barricades into the closest approach to the tents of Oranjestad. Rather, they would flank the defenders on either side and bypass the trenches at the center of their line. And if that happened—
O'Rourke and McCarthy perceived that the danger to their flanks would increase with every passing moment. "Fire!" they cried in unison.
The defenders did, and many of the Kalinago sprawled headlong. But the others did not break stride, and now, advancing at a faster trot through the open space vacated by the two halves of the front rank, came the French and native musketeers. As they raised their pieces, McCarthy shouted, "Fresh muskets! Reload the empties! Quick or they'll—"
A well-coordinated volley split the humid air, more coordinated than Anne Cathrine had been expecting, and she fully expected it to be the last sound she ever heard. But instead, she opened her surprise-shut eyes and discovered that the French and native musketeers had not fired, but, in fact, had been mauled by the volley she had heard.
Turning to look south, she saw more than a hundred men emerging from the virgin forest that hemmed in Oranjestad at the south and which extended to a point within eighty yards of attackers. The new defenders—a half company of Wild Geese—was heading for the lead ranks of the enemy musketeers, led by a tall, auburn-haired man whom the others followed with a surety and confidence that was tangible, even at this range.
Anne Cathrine jumped to her feet and shouted for joy, just as O'Rourke's cry rose up, "O'Donnell _abu_! Now one more volley into those musketeers and break 'em!"
But that's not quite the way things worked out. The volley from Oranjestad's defenders, more ragged and ill-timed than before, was less focused than O'Rourke had hoped. At least half of the muskets were fired at the Kalinago who were trying to flank the barrel barricades. The other half did hit the enemy musketeers while the French leaders were trying to turn that mass to face the new threat coming out of the trees to the south. It did not drop many of them, but it sent ripples of irritation and dismay through their ranks. The natives might have been familiar with their muskets, but not with moving in ranks and certainly not withstanding flanking fire while doing so. A large number of Kalinago angrily turned their pieces back toward the town's defenders, discharged them, and hit close to a dozen of that thin line.
But in the meantime, Dutch musketeers emerged from the wood behind the Wild Geese and discharged a flanking volley into the rearmost ranks of the attackers. The front ranks, when finally dressed, turned toward the loose skirmish line of Wild Geese, raised their weapons, and fired. At almost the same moment, the Irish mercenaries dove into the stubble of the canebrake. Nearly a dozen did not dive down in time, but the rest rose up swiftly, and charged until they were only twenty paces from the furiously reloading French and natives. The pepperbox revolvers were in their hands now and, collectively, the sound they made was even faster and more raucous than when the _Intrepid_ was test-firing one of her mitrailleuses.
French and Kalinago alike, the musketeers went down in windrows before this point-blank fusillade. Order disintegrated swiftly. Unwilling to keep reloading in the face of such sustained fire, and surrounded by so many casualties, the Kalinago cast aside their cumbersome matchlocks and came at the Wild Geese with their war clubs. That was when they discovered that perhaps one in five of the Irish mercenaries had not been contributing to the general fire, but waiting, kneeling, to break just such counterattacks.
O'Rourke, hoarse and still pale from his slow recovery, vaulted over the ditch in which Anne Cathrine was taking cover, shouting "O'Donnell, _abu_! McCarthy, if you're an Irishman true, now's the time to show it!"
Michael yelled an answering, "O'Donnell _abu_! For Tromp and Oranjestad!" which brought the Dutch soldiers boiling out of the thin defensive line and at the Kalinago.
Strangely, to Anne Cathrine's eyes, that charge by forty or so defenders did more to break the spirit of the natives and the French than anything else. Maybe they reasoned that the defenders would not charge unless they had seen reinforcements approaching from the rear. Maybe it was the audacity of the countercharge. Maybe they thought the defenders of Oranjestad had gone insane with a berserker death-lust. Whatever the reason, the Kalinago and French broke ranks, shooting as they streamed back toward the low humps of The Quill's northern foothills, apparently intending to reach their boats on the windward side of the island by the swiftest possible route.
The Wild Geese took the opportunity to swap new cylinders into their revolvers and renew their charge, the tall, auburn-haired man leading them after the repulsed invaders. Sophie rose slowly, looking at that man, head forward as if her eyes were straining after the sight of him, as if her ears were straining after his voice.
As she and Anne Cathrine watched, several of the French attackers turned, hurled something small and round at their pursuers just as the auburn-haired man stopped to help up a fallen comrade. One of the small black dots thrown by a Frenchman landed next to him. In the next instant, there was a small flash and a vicious puff of smoke, and Anne Cathrine could not tell if the man had leaped, or was blown aside, by the grenade.
**_Off Vieques, Caribbean Sea_**
Maarten Tromp read back across the recent and voluminous wireless exchanges. With his new executive officer peering over his shoulder, he shook his head and muttered, "I can find no flaw in Cantrell's reasoning." Tromp looked up at the skies, looked out over the three-foot seas. "We must split the fleet. And you must stand by the signalman to provide an explanation to our captains."
Whereas Kees Evertsen would have launched into an animated inquiry as to why the fleet must be split in the face of two larger enemy formations, Adriaen Banckert showed that he was indeed his father's son. The taciturn nineteen-year-old executive officer merely frowned. "Why, Admiral? Cannot we stay close to the USE steamships while they defeat the closest group to the west, and then the next one to the south?"
Tromp shook his head. "We cannot put that measure of faith in their guns, not in these seas. Their aim will be less accurate, and so they will not be able to effectively close with and destroy one enemy force without offering the other their stern."
"So the enemy planned this to be able to inflict more damage upon the steamships?"
"Cantrell thinks that is only a secondary concern for the Spanish. And I think he is right."
Adriaen put his hands behind his back. "Admiral, like the captains with whom I must soon communicate, I must wonder: what, then, are the Spanish after?"
Tromp looked up with a bitter smile, looked over his shoulder and the taffrail. Stretching into the far distance, the long line of Dutch warships gave way to an even more extended line of her supply fluyts. "They are after our conventional, sailed ships. But especially our supply ships." Seeing no change on Banckert's face, he sighed and gestured to the last visible sail of their formation. "The Spanish have been more crafty, and have learned more quickly, than we conjectured. They realized after the Battle of Grenada Passage that the steamships cannot be attacked directly. To do so is to commit suicide. So the main fleet before us has only been bait, a lure to get us to keep chasing the galleons of their fleet. But all the while, what they were really after was to pull us out of formation so that they could threaten our slowest ships. The ships that are carrying the thirteen hundred troops with which we mean to raze Santo Domingo and its facilities. The same ships that are carrying all our spare powder and balls, and which are carrying the extra ammunition and coal for the steamships."
Now Adriaen Banckert's beetled brows rose in understanding and alarm. "Of course. But how did they manage to coordinate the appearance of this second fleet?" He gestured to the rapidly growing mass of fore-and-aft rigged ships approaching out of the south.
"That is indeed an excellent question, Adriaen. But given our current position, I think they used the western mountains of St. Croix as a kind of marker, a place that their line of ambushers were to form up against. I suspect that is why they started approaching us along such a broad front. They were signaling, up and down that line, to maintain position and pass the word to begin their attack."
Banckert nodded. "Still, it is a difficult feat."
Tromp nodded. "It is indeed, even were those attackers as disciplined as the ships of a legitimate navy."
Adriaen's left eyebrow rose. "What do you mean, Admiral? How are the approaching ships not a 'legitimate navy'?"
Tromp smiled. "Oh, they are a force to be reckoned with, but those ships are not in the rolls of any nation's fleet. They are pirates. Well, privateers now, I suppose."
Banckert was so surprised that he forgot to address Tromp with an honorific. "What?"
"Adriaen, tell me, do you imagine the Spanish have ready access to so many fore-and-aft rigged vessels as are approaching us from the south? Perhaps if they drew in all the hulls of the _Garda Costa_ and all their advice ships, but that would take more than a year to coordinate. No, the Spanish _recruited_ the fleet we see coming from the south. And, I begin to suspect Cantrell is right in guessing that many of the smaller craft in the fleet to our west have the same origins."
"But the Spanish detest pirates. They almost never grant them letters of marque—"
"Adriaen, we confronted them with an entirely new threat at the Grenada Passage. And they have formulated an entirely new response. They set aside their old prejudices to find a means to reduce the effectiveness of the steamships' new weapons. Pirate ships are smaller, faster, more maneuverable, all of which makes them harder to hit. It also means they do not require fair breezes from the stern like galleons, but may sail close to the wind, tacking through it at their leisure. No, Cantrell's analysis is correct. And I think he is also correct in speculating that their nature _as_ pirates did help us in one way: they lacked sufficient discipline to wait a few more hours."
Banckert looked at the sun, now well past the midday point. "But Admiral, if they had waited a few more hours, they would have been engaging us at dusk."
"Precisely. Enough light to see us, but not enough light for us to maneuver against them, regroup, or unleash broadsides at a distance. Adriaen, the dark is their friend. And they need not sink or disable many of us to win a great victory here. For if we flee these waters, and we must, then any hull that straggles behind will be fodder for these sea-wolves."
Banckert nodded, understanding Tromp's strategic decision at last. "And so, in order to escape, we must sail south by southwest. That will give us a reasonable following wind, give us the wind-gauge over the more nimble ships to the south. And will bring us away from any threat that the main fleet to the west might pose, should it turn about. Although, Admiral, the wind is against them."
"Against the main fleet's galleons, yes. But all her fore-and-aft rigged vessels can tack and make headway against it, could get in among our square-rigged warships, maybe our supply ships."
"Unless the steamships hold these waters long enough for the rest of us to sail southward, out of—what did Cantrell call it, this 'L-ambush'?—and punch our way through the second fleet."
"The lower and weaker jaw of the Spanish trap," Tromp affirmed with a nod. "Now, send the signals, Adriaen. If our captains wish to have the orders explained, do so once, and succinctly. And in such a way that they know that this flagship neither has the time nor the interest in answering further inquiries. And once we are tightening up our formation, we'll need to ready the steam pinnaces for towing both _Amelia_ and _Gelderland_. We'll be pulling ahead along with the jachts to serve as a vanguard."
"Yes, sir." He looked over the bow, toward the big USE cruisers. "At least, with their speed and their guns, they should be safe."
The admiral merely motioned Adriaen toward the waiting signalman. Maarten Tromp knew all too well how easily such confidence could turn out to be wrong.
"Commander Cantrell, Captain Simonszoon has sent a reply to your fuel inquiry."
_Well, about bloody time_ , Eddie huffed silently while he maintained an impassive exterior. Simonszoon's delay wasn't a good sign. If he'd been running his ship right, he should have known how much coal he had left in the bunker. He shouldn't have had to send someone below decks to get a count. "What's his reply?"
" _Resolve_ has twenty percent fuel remaining."
It was not terribly surprising that the down-time commander had burned through so much coal. Conserving fast-consumables other than powder and shot could be tricky to gauge, since the depletion accrued as a constant trickle rather than in a few dramatic gulps. But it was damned inconvenient, given the kind of maneuvers the cruisers might have to perform in order to keep the main Spanish fleet from turning about and closing in.
Which might not prove to be as easy a tactical objective as it sounded. As soon as the _Amelia_ turned her prow south by southwest, and the jachts began hurrying to form a flying wedge at the head of the formation, the western progress of the main Spanish fleet had slowed noticeably. And although he wanted to keep the pressure on them, Eddie did not dare call on Simonszoon to keep her steam up, or even to make reasonable headway with the favorable wind. Because when the time came to turn and flee, that new heading would put the cruisers in a close reach. If the two big ships were going to get meaningful distance from the smaller _patache_ s and jachts of the western Spanish fleet, they'd need to have steam left to make it happen. Possibly more steam than _Resolve_ could raise.
Which meant that only _Intrepid_ could afford to edge forward and keep the Spanish galleons somewhat at bay. "Svantner, half reef the sails."
"Sir?" asked the startled Swede.
"You heard me, Svantner. We can't afford to move too far ahead of _Resolve_. And she can't afford to move ahead at all."
Ove Gjedde's voice was quiet, ominous. "They will turn upon us, then."
Eddie shrugged. "Captain, with all due respect, they're starting to turn on us already. Chasing them isn't what will buy us most of the time we need. It's the range of our deck guns. Look at the enemy formation. Their admiral is smart enough to be approaching on a broad front."
"But none too quickly, even so," Svantner offered. "They won't engage us until an hour before dusk."
"Yes," Eddie agreed, "and that's just what they want. They're scared of our eight-inch rifles, but even if they weren't, they won't want to arrive at their useful ranges much before dark. If they do, our main-battery carronades will tear them to pieces at five to six hundred yards."
"But then how will they fire on us, sir? It will be dark for all of us."
"Yeah, but there are lots of them and only two of us. And luck is on the side with the most hulls in the water."
Gjedde nodded. "And see what they are beginning to do. The fore-and-aft rigged ships are tacking in irregularly."
Eddie nodded. "Tactically, we up-timers call that a 'serpentine' approach. Usually used to describe infantry movement, but it holds here, too."
"It does indeed." Gjedde exhaled slowly. "It will be hard for our gunners to predict their turns and adjust in time."
"It will be damned near impossible. Which is why we're going to ignore them for now and go after the galleons as soon as they come within thirteen hundred yards."
"So far?" Svantner murmured.
"Yes. If they don't feel safe edging closer to us now, they'll be too far away to trouble us when the light is failing. We can hit them occasionally at thirteen hundred yards, which is all we need to do to maintain their fear of our firepower. And yes, Svantner, I think Dirck Simonszoon has learned his marksmanship lessons pretty well today."
Gjedde nodded. "So you are not as interested in sinking them as terrifying them."
"That's the idea. Now, let's get some firing solutions and go hunting."
The Spanish lost a galleon and a galleoncete before they realized that the USE cruisers were pointedly ignoring the more rapidly closing light vessels. But the Spanish admiral— _one hell of a competent and ballsy guy_ , Eddie had to admit—did not react as expected. After about a quarter hour of signaling, his larger ships continued to advance, but slowly, maintaining a wide arc that could easily turn into a butterfly net. True, the cruisers would logically be able to tear right through that net, but if they weren't careful, even a small snag might allow more yachts and _patache_ s to swarm around them.
Gjedde frowned mightily at the distant, but still approaching galleons. "He gives us big targets at range, to keep us from turning our guns upon the closer and faster ones that will be able to close with us swiftly come darkness. Clearly, he believes the small ships may inflict considerable damage upon us."
_Yeah, that, or he simply realizes he's got no choice, that the big ships won't last long enough to get in range. And anyhow, as long as he's stopped us in our tracks, and sees the rest of our fleet trying to break out to the south, he knows he's running us out of the battlespace. And that's probably what's most important to him. But in the meantime—_ "Well, let's not insult our Spanish host by refusing his _hors' d' oeuvres_. Do we have a firing solution on the next galleon yet?"
Svantner called an inquiry down into the intraship, got a prompt answer. "Yes, and they've been tracking for a minute, sir."
"Very well. Standard nonexplosive rounds from both mounts. They may fire at will, and continue tracking."
A moment later, the two deck guns went off in such rapid succession that the overlapping shockwaves buffeted Eddie's clothes in two directions, whipsawing his trouser legs from one side of the compass to the other. Both shots geysered up the gray-green seawater, but less than twenty yards off-target.
"Load with explosive shell, watch the swells. Correct and fire at will."
"Aye, sir!"
Eddie watched the chief gunner lean over the rim of the pulpit attached to the side of Mount One's gun shield, stare down at the near risers and then bring down his hand sharply. Mount One's naval rifle blasted smoke outward in a long plume, leaping back against its recoil cylinders. Mount Two did the same a moment later—and, for the first time since the _Intrepid_ had become operational, both rounds hit the target at the same time. The entire galleon shuddered to port. The first shell blew her bow into a ruin of strakes sticking up like the back of a skinned hedgehog. The second disappeared into her high quarterdeck, which, an eyeblink later, blew outward in all directions. Not much was left there, other than a partial skeleton of its framing timbers, silhouetted by an inferno raging where the officers' cabins used to be.
_Resolve_ 's guns spoke a few seconds later, and although both shots hit water not wood, Simonszoon's ability to work with his gunners was clearly improving. The two rounds bracketed the galleon he'd targeted and Eddie would have taken odds that if he didn't score a hit with the next pair, he would with the third.
As he watched his own gunners crank their pieces around to access the next proximal target, he crossed his arms, felt his stump tired and cramping in the prosthesis for the first time in weeks. _Okay, Mr. Spanish Admiral, if you're willing to put your galleons in range, we'll keep smacking them down. Until your faster ships get inside of five hundred yards, that is._
Maarten Tromp watched smoke jet out of the steam-pinnace's funnel, and a second later, felt a tug in the deck beneath his feet. "Are we matching pace with the jachts, now?"
Adriaen Banckert nodded. "Yes, sir. They've reefed sails enough that we can keep formation with them."
Tromp looked starboard. _Gelderland_ , also under tow, was abeam at three hundred yards. The jachts _Fortuin_ , _Zuidsterre_ , and _Pinas_ were approximately three hundred yards ahead in a rough arrowhead pattern: a wedge to drive through the pirate ships now two miles ahead. Or so Tromp hoped.
He looked astern. The rest of the Dutch warships were making good speed, the wind having freshened and come into a friendly compass point. But they would not be able to add their weight to any engagement that the advance guard initiated for at least an hour.
Meanwhile, the enemy ships to the south had closed ranks, but probably not as much as they had wished. Having sprung their trap early, they had begun in a wide, dispersed arc. Now, closing ranks came at the expense of forward progress, and vice versa. Tromp could only hope that, despite their greater numbers, they were spread too far and too thin to resist the lance-point that he hoped his fleet would be.
"Admiral Tromp?" Willem van der Zaan's replacement, a fourteen-year-old former native of Recife improbably named Brod, arrived with a strip of paper: a communiqué from the ship's wireless.
"Who from, Brod?" asked Tromp.
"Commander Cantrell, sir. Answering your message."
Tromp nodded, watching Adriaen descend to the main deck to inspect the arms and armor of the ship's troops. It would be a miracle indeed if the slower Dutch ships managed to pass through their antagonists without repulsing at least one boarding attempt. "Read the message, Brod."
The lad complied. "Cantrell commanding _Intrepid_ to Tromp commanding _Amelia_. Message begins. Now shifting fire to small vessels. Stop. Unable to estimate time remaining before disengagement. Stop. Cannot predict ETA at rendezvous point one. Stop. Sail for home and do not look back. Stop. Message ends."
Commander Eddie Cantrell was busy scanning and describing the new hulls for _Intrepid_ 's growing target list, his runner scribbling furiously.
"Target seven. Currently bearing 284 on the compass rose. Range: 800 yards. Approximate speed: four knots. Type: thirty-foot _piragua_ with single lateen sail. Armament: two swivel guns. Complement of twenty. Unusual feature: prow-mounted pole or boom.
"Target eight. Currently bearing 294 on the compass rose. Range: 950 yards. Approximate speed: five knots, making three knots headway with tacking. Type: Bermuda-style sloop. Armament: eight demi-culverins, four falconets. Complement of thirty-five.
"Target nine. Currently bearing—"
"Commander Cantrell!"
"Yes, Svantner?"
"Targets three and four have sheered off, given us a wide berth."
"Heading back for _Resolve_?"
"That or looking to get behind us, sir."
"Does sub-battery three have them in range?"
"Aye, sir!"
"The gun chief may fire his carronades both with my compliments and expectations of success."
"Yes, sir!"
Gjedde had been giving the sail handlers sharp, fast orders. He now looked up in a lull as the _Intrepid_ came back before the wind, steadying so that the main batteries would have a stable platform from which to fire. "They are playing with us, you know."
"Of course they are. But they're paying, too." It was true enough. After sinking four galleons outright and damaging another seven, the two cruisers' guns had turned upon the fore-and-aft rigged vessels and, since doing so, had sunk three and damaged two. Being small—everything from twenty-gun Dutch jachts that had been cut down to follow the sleek lines that pirates preferred, to ten-man _piraguas_ —many of the ships were as lightly built as they were nimble. The smaller ones often capsized after a single hit because the shells from the rifles over-penetrated, punching through the strakes on one side, and blasting out a spray of hull chunks as they exited the other.
Gjedde nodded. "Yes. But without our steam, they are more maneuverable, may exploit more points of the wind. We will not be able to keep the water between ourselves and the _Resolve_ clear much longer."
"That's why I sent Dirck instructions to come about and start heading after the main van."
"So soon?" Svantner stared nervously at the smaller ships swarming and circling toward their flanks like distant sharks. They stayed just outside the six hundred yard limit, which was where the spread and accuracy of the carronades could begin to reasonably cope with the speed and evasive tacking of the small boats.
"Yeah," Eddie sighed as the portside carronades spoke. "He's got to get going now." Target four—a small _patache_ —skipped ahead of four balls that plunged into the sea behind her like a line of foam-spurting exclamation marks. The little ship heeled over and reopened the range to the _Intrepid_. "We've held them here for two hours and by the time Simonszoon gets enough wind in his sails to make a good pace, it'll be the better part of a third. And he doesn't have enough coal to steam away. He may need that later to close with the main van, or help them out if that southern pirate fleet manages to jam them up. Either way, he's got to rely more on the wind than we do, a lot more, which means he's got to get going sooner."
"Which leaves us on our own," Gjedde said quietly.
Eddie didn't respond. He was afraid that instead of calmly acknowledging the threat implicit in that situation, he'd start shouting: _Well, of course we'll be on our own! And why is that? Because some down-timer hot-shot captain got a little too steam happy, that's why!_
But this was no time to publicly vent his feelings. He wasn't really being fair to Simonszoon, anyway. The Dutch captain—born, bred and raised in the seventeenth century—was having to learn lessons under fire that any up-time teenage kid had learned by the time he got a driver's license. _Always keep an eye on the gas gauge, stupe._ You didn't run out of wind the same way you ran out of fuel.
Still, unfair or not, the situation _was_ aggravating. Since they had to stay here another hour or so to cover the _Resolve_ 's withdrawal, could they expect the privateer ships to get bolder? _Unquestionably._ And if they hadn't extricated themselves by dusk, would this fine naval engagement devolve into a confused brawl? _Absolutely._ Would blunders occur right and left? _Assuredly._ Was this all to the advantage of the outgunned and usually outmaneuvered foe? _That's why the enemy is doing it._
A mechanical flaw or trick of fate only needed to strike them once, only needed to cause them to stagger, to stumble. Because if they did, these little jackals would be on them in a minute with cannons, cutlasses or whatever else might work.
But all Eddie said was, "I share your reservations, Captain Gjedde. But do you see any other reasonable options?"
Gjedde watched the ship's troops—several dozen of which were Wild Geese—mounting the mitrailleuses and immense "Big Shot" scatter guns on the four heavy-weapon mounts, one located at each quarter of the ship. "No," he answered. "But I recommend that we bring the regular ship's troops on deck. And keep the Wild Geese below, as a reserve."
Eddie nodded to Svantner to comply, who had just received a slip of paper from the runner. "I will muster the regular troops at once, Commander. And sir, a reply from Captain Simonszoon."
"Read it."
"From _Resolve_ to _Intrepid_. Message starts. D. Simonszoon hereby relinquishes local command to E. Cantrell. Stop. E. Cantrell is, by my command authority, and if acceptable to Captain Gjedde, hereby brevetted to post-captain. Stop. Apologies and bitter regrets that _Resolve_ must withdraw before her sister ship. Stop. Shall not rest easy until we see your lights closing on our stern. Stop. Message ends."
Eddie glanced at Gjedde. Whose lips seemed to crack as he smiled faintly. "Well, are you going to reply—Captain?"
Eddie sighed. He'd always thought ascending to that proud rank and title, even as a temporary brevet, would be an event he savored. But right now, he just wanted to get the hell out of the situation that had caused it. "Runner, send this reply. We'll be right behind you. Protect the rest of the fleet. See you in Oranjestad."
_Or_ , added Eddie silently as the runner disappeared down the bridge stairs, _I'll see you in the next life_.
The steam pinnace that had towed the _Gelderland_ into the fray had barely cast off when a barca-longa crewed by pirates-become-privateers heeled over toward her, firing swivel guns. Several of the Dutchman's crew went down as she labored back through what had been, until she turned, following seas.
"Adriaen," Tromp shouted, "do we have grape loaded?"
"In three of the starboard guns."
"Excellent. Fire at that barca-longa. We need to protect our tugs." Tromp started counting down the seconds he had left to make up his mind about _Amelia_ 's next course change, which was largely based upon how long it would take for his gun deck to send a load of moaning grapeshot at the privateer. From what he could make of the swirling hulls in front of him, two of his jachts—the _Zuidsterre_ and the _Pinas_ —had drawn at least six of the enemy ships to them. Too eager to wait to distribute themselves more evenly among the approaching Dutch ships, the raiders had pounced with the blood-eagerness of their kind. In consequence, they had weakened this part of the net they were trying to cast before the Dutch van.
_Amelia_ 's three starboard guns spoke, most of the grape falling short, kicking up a fuming lane across the swells. But the end of that lane rode right up over the low-gunwaled side of the barca-longa and mauled men, mast, and canvas alike. The stricken boat swerved away from _Amelia_ and the steam pinnace.
But Tromp hardly noticed that. Only three hundred yards ahead, the _Zuidsterre_ had managed to slip out between a pair of small _patache_ s and was no longer enmeshed with the enemy. But _Pinas_ was pinned in the middle of a triangle of their hulls, taking what modest pounding their batteries could deliver.
Tromp saw her crew falling aside among the smoke and splinters and resolved that her sacrifice should prove to be the means of their escape. "Adriaen!"
"Sir?"
"Do you see the gap between the sloop and _patache_ hemming in _Pinas_?"
"Yes, sir."
"Crowd sail and make for it, best speed. And double-charge both batteries. We are going to open a wide hole for the rest of our fleet."
"Sir, Captain Gerritsz signals from _Gelderland_ that he is making for the western edge of that melee. We might come under his guns, if we follow the course you order."
"Then signal Hans to either hold his fire or be damned careful with it. We've got to break these ships. The wind is failing us, so we can't wait on a careful duel while their fore-and-aft riggers dance around us. This group has been greedy for our blood and has trapped themselves. We must capitalize on that. So, when you're done warning Gerritsz, signal the rest of the warships to converge here. This is where we are going to break through."
_Or die trying_ , Tromp amended.
At eighty yards, the heavily modified ex-Dutch jacht pulled hard over to starboard, bringing her portside battery to bear on _Intrepid_.
"Mount Two has a firing solution," cried Svantner.
"Fire!" yelled Eddie over his shoulder, not bothering with the intraship relays.
The two ships traded shots simultaneously. The eight guns of the privateer made a broad, throaty blast, but the gunners had waited a moment too long as the jacht recovered from her turn, rolling slightly above level. Their balls whizzed overhead, one putting a hole in the foremain sail, the other clipping the mainmast's spencer mast clean off. The spencer's foldable sail tumbled, fluttering, into the dark like a half-spined pterodactyl with one shattered wing.
The eight-inch naval rifle repaid the privateer by driving an explosive shell into her, amidships. The shell didn't go off until it was well inside the light-hulled vessel, blowing out a wide spray of wood, cannons, bodies, and dunnage into the failing light. As the smoke cleared, a strange, guttural growling rose up. It was the water rushing into the savage bite that had been taken out of the jacht's side, and which stretched slightly below the waterline. The ship began to roll in that direction as the risers lapped into her greedily.
"Commander," snapped Gjedde, " _patache_ coming up from the port quarter. At sixty yards."
Damn it. The ones who had swept wide around _Intrepid_ were now coming out of the near-darkness to her east, easily finding and steering for the big USE ship's silhouette against the increasingly cloudy western horizon. "Anything else closing?"
"Not at the moment." Gjedde's tone put a discernibly dark emphasis on "at the moment."
"Then Captain, if you would be so kind, send the order to fire all, portside battery, when she's abeam."
Gjedde nodded, leaned toward the intraship comms tube.
For the first time in twenty minutes, no one was asking for orders, which allowed Eddie to take in the bigger picture. Up on the starboard bow position, the mitrailleuse was firing athwart the rays of the setting sun, its rounds chasing after a _piragua_ that had ventured inside one hundred yards range and was now hurriedly rowing back out. Just behind the mitrailleuse, near the forward companionway, a junior lieutenant of the Wild Geese was hunched down on weather deck, alert-eyed and waiting for orders to bring up the forty or so of his men whom Eddie had put in reserve as an anti-boarding fire-brigade. Their training, experience, and armament—double-barreled musketoons and pepperbox revolvers—were a final insurance against what the pirates-turned-privateers obviously wanted to achieve: a run in under the effective lower arc of _Intrepid_ 's guns, and then, to board. Normally unthinkable, the dying light, massed and maneuverable opponents, and isolation had combined to make it a distressingly reasonable possibility.
The majority of the ship's troops—German and Swedish musketeers—were already on the weather deck, stalking along the gunwales, watching. Most of their attention was directed into the darkness behind the _Intrepid_ 's stern, where dusk had already pulled all the light away from the eastern horizon. That was the direction from which small privateers, and a few Spaniards, too, had been trying to surprise them, running dark. Several had almost chased in under the arc of the steamship's guns.
The _patache_ that had approached from the port quarter was the boldest of this group of ships that increasingly tested and baited _Intrepid_ 's gunners as the sun's rays ceased to glint off the swells of the wide seas. However, at sixty yards range, the Spaniard's sails still caught a good amount of the dying light and the cries of her gun crews told Gjedde that they were preparing to fire. He did not give them the chance. "Portside battery, fire all!" the Norwegian cried.
The volley had a few trailing discharges. Probably the forward guns were a second late, being muscled into rearward angles to fire before the enemy ship drew fully abreast of them. Of the fourteen regular eight-inch projectiles, five struck along the hull of the ship, which quite literally came apart. There was no dramatic explosion or burst of flames. The tremendous overlapping force of those hits—along with several more that ripped through masts, sails, and rigging—simply shattered the frame of the ship. The strakes and deck-planks split even where they had not been hit: the shock waves, traveling through the wood from two opposed directions, met and tore them apart. The ship rolled even as its keel started groaning; she was at beam-ends within twenty seconds.
Gjedde's voice was anything but elated. "Our carronades were at minimum elevation, resting on their bases. Because so many of their ships sit so low upon the water, we will be fortunate to put any shot on the smallest of them if they reach twenty yards."
Eddie nodded. "That is undeniably true, Captain." The mitrailleuse at the starboard bow was once again stuttering into the setting sun. A sloop that had approached to one hundred yards listed, taking water as the high-velocity .50 caliber bullets punched a trail of splinter-edged holes in her hull and deck.
Svantner was standing just over Gjedde's shoulder. "Shall I ask if the chief has raised enough steam, yet?"
Eddie shrugged. "Might as well."
"You do not think that this might be a wise time to withdraw?" Gjedde asked with one silver-white eyebrow raised.
Eddie sighed. "Oh, I think it would be a great time—Mount One! Jacht inbound on port bow! Acquire solution and fire!—but we can't withdraw yet." When Gjedde's other cloudlike eyebrow rose to join the first, Eddie handed him the note that the runner had pushed into his palm just before the modified Dutch jacht had made its starboard approach. Eddie recited it from memory. " _Amelia_ to _Intrepid_. Message begins. Winds from east weaker and less favorable. Stop. Neither side possesses wind gauge. Stop. Combat continues. Stop. Uncertain if we will break free before night falls. Stop. _Resolve_ will not arrive in time to accelerate outcome. Stop. Need an additional hour to secure escape. Stop. The fleet salutes you and your heroic crew. Stop. Tromp, commanding _Amelia_. Message ends."
Svantner swallowed. His eyes were much larger than they had been before Eddie had started reading the message. Gjedde simply looked off into the approaching dark. "How long ago was that sent?"
Eddie shrugged. "About twenty-five minutes ago. In thirty more, we can show these jackals our tail. But until then, we must hold this patch of water. If they are allowed to start southward any sooner, they could catch the rest of our fleet during the early hours, or sometime tomorrow. Between the two Spanish vans, they could keep our conventional ships tangled up long enough to inflict damage to the supply ships and transports, or even our warships. And then we'd no longer be a force they'd fear."
Gjedde nodded. "Within months, we'd see their sails approaching St. Eustatia."
"Exactly. So we have to keep that from happening." Eddie looked to where the sun was finally setting. "Meaning that we have to pin them in place, have to stay here for another thirty minutes."
Gjedde looked down into the lightless depths. "Let us just hope that duty does not mean that we shall stay here permanently."
The next ten minutes were unusually calm, as though the Spanish and their privateer allies had heard the resolute words and tones of the _Intrepid_ 's command crew and had slunk away from any further battle with so determined an adversary.
Eddie conceded that that had been a nice fantasy, but he knew that the Spanish weren't daunted by their adversaries' courage. No, they were simply waiting for the arrival of their most decisive ally: nightfall. And once the sun had fallen beneath the far western waters, the enemy ships made their own mortal resolve quite clear.
They were not brash about resuming their attack but began circling in closer slowly. Like nocturnal sharks cautiously approaching a wounded killer whale, they could smell the blood, but knew that the immense predator still had teeth which could rip them open if they were incautious. And so, just as Eddie gave orders to douse all lights on _Intrepid_ 's decks and in her cabins, the privateer and Spanish boats began probing at the rapidly shrinking edge of visibility. Hulls flashed here and there, but were gone before a gun could be trained upon them. And as the final hazy, gray-and-salmon smudge of sun-lit cloud bottoms also shrank down behind the arc of the wide world, they came closer and closer still.
The sound of sails luffing as the ships tacked to and fro became the typical first warning of their direct approaches. Three _piraguas_ swept in from the north, small lights flickering along their lengths. A moment later those lights were arcing through the air toward _Intrepid_ : flaming arrows, most of which sunk into the side of the big ship, guttering. But the oil-soaked rags affixed behind their points quickly flared again.
Svantner almost laughed. "Do they mean to burn us?"
"No," Eddie said, restraining himself from snapping at the lieutenant. "They mean to mark us. As a target that they can all see. Get the ship's troops to douse those damn arrows, and prepare to deal with more. Captain Gjedde, we'd best find the wind and give the Spanish a more lively target to chase until we break off and run."
Gjedde looked aloft. "Admiral Tromp isn't the only one whose breezes have weakened." And it was true enough: _Intrepid_ 's canvas was either lank or luffing, no matter how wind-master Gjedde turned her. "The Spanish have lighter ships with more canvas than hull. They'll be slowed, too, but less so than us. And their _piraguas_ move as much by oar as sail."
"Well, get me what speed you can, in any direction but west."
"That risks collision."
Eddie shrugged. "Standing still makes us an easy target. We'll have to take our chances. At least they are small boats."
Svantner leaned over from working with the helmsman as they tried to find a point of wind that would give them some headway. "True, but if we hit a _patache_ or jacht, we could be severely damaged, start taking water."
"Which is why we have pumps. Get me a little more speed, no matter how you do it." More arrows came out of the night, this time from off the port beam. Several found their way up into the sails, but the heavy, fluttering canvas knocked them aside. This time. A crackling of German muskets reached back along the fiery paths that the arrows had followed. If the ragged volley hit anything, there was no sight or sound to indicate it.
As men leaned over the side to pour water and vinegar mixtures down upon the arrows still burning against _Intrepid_ 's dark hull, muskets flared in the darkness about seventy yards off the port bow. One of the fire-control party flopped to the deck with a cry, a dark stain spreading across his shirt from the vicinity of his breastbone.
The runner next to Eddie turned wondering eyes into the dark as more German rifles fired at where the enemy muskets had so momentarily bloomed. "How did they see to shoot at our men?" he asked.
Eddie leaned against the railing of the bridge, taking the weight off his cramping stump. "Probably saw a shadow in front of or at the edge of the light from the arrows. They fired at the movement. Enough muskets, and a little luck—"
" _Patache_ , bearing on our port bow," came a cry for the foretop.
Eddie swung in that direction and saw the enemy ship approaching, her sails luffing as she struggled to maintain headway against the shifting wind. Which bought Eddie the time he needed. "Svantner, is the port battery reloaded?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very well. If that _patache_ comes alongside, fire the first half of that battery. Mount One," he directed into the speaking tube, "do you have a shot?"
"Barely, sir," replied a tinny, indistinct voice that would have been drowned out had any of _Intrepid_ 's guns been active at that moment, "and only the quarterdeck."
"That's good enough. Lay open sights upon her and fire as soon as you can!"
"Yes, sir!"
The mizzen lookout cried about more boats approaching from the port quarter. "How are they coordinating this?" Svantner yelped.
"They're not. But when they see the silhouettes of one of their own approaching us, others try to join in, to swarm us. We can't shoot in all directions at once." _But we're sure as hell going to try._ "Lookout, what manner of boats on the port quarter?"
"Sloops, sir," came the voice from aloft.
"Very well. Mr. Svantner, warn the port quarter mitrailleuse that it looks like they'll finally get some action, too."
"Aye, sir," Svantner said with a nod, just as Mount One roared. Eddie swung around in time to see the eight-inch shell plunge into the low poop deck of the _patache_ and planks fly up, the mizzenmast having been sliced through an instant beforehand. Severed only five feet above the weather deck, the mast was blown aside so forcefully that she ripped clean out of her stays.
But the wounded _patache_ kept coming. Boarders, Spanish troops judging from their glinting beetlelike morions, were clustered in her bows. "The Big Shot on the forward swivel: is she ready?" Eddie cried at Svantner.
"Aye, sir. They're drawing a bead now. Fire at ten yards?"
"Five!" Eddie corrected as the rear mitrailleuse began chattering, presumably at the sloops drawing close to the port quarter. And from the sound of it, that gun crew might burn through their current cassette of ammunition before dissuading the enemy ships from closing. "Aft port battery!" Eddie howled into the speaking tube.
The battery chief's reply came after a moment. The background furor almost drowned it out. "Yes, sir?"
"Your two fastest crews: have them swap out their current shells for canister shot."
"Canister shot, sir? That hasn't tested too well."
"I'm aware. We'll give it a try at point-blank range, Chief. The two sloops approaching from astern are your targets. Once they're within forty yards, fire at your discretion."
"Aye, aye, sir!" The battery chief sounded strangely delighted. Perhaps, being below decks, he didn't have a complete appreciation of just how close the Spanish sharks were circling.
The report from the forward swivel sounded like a shotgun amplified by a bull-horn. Most of the first three ranks of morion-helmeted boarders on the approaching _patache_ went down or over its bows, cries and splashes lost in the dark and ridden under her keel. The Big Shot's crew struggled to get another charge into their weapon, did so, fired just as some of the waiting boarders did, dropping one of that crew.
Damn it. "Gallagher!" Eddie shouted at the junior lieutenant of the Wild Geese who had remained in his motionless crouch throughout the entirety of the battle thus far. "Give me a squad at the port bow, on the double!"
As German musketeers began clustering to contest the boarders as well, the after-half of the port battery roared, the carronades' fiery tongues briefly illuminating the sloop that received the majority of their fury. Although only one of the shells hit, the canister-shot stripped away the vessel's sails as if they had been snatched up in a tornado. A dozen of her boarders and crew sprawled across the narrow deck with ghastly, blood-spraying wounds from the lime-sized balls. Then, the flaring muzzles of the _Intrepid_ dark once again, there was only the ruined outline of the sloop and the moan of her wounded.
_Well, that decides it._ "Svantner, pass the word to all batteries. When next they reload, all odd-numbered guns are to reload with canister-shot. It is to be reserved for use on targets within fifty yards."
"Aye, aye, Commander." As Svantner passed the word, a sustained spatter of muskets up near the bow was joined by the rippling coughs of the Wild Geese's musketoons. Grenades went between the ships, without many casualties being inflicted on either side. The _patache_ , with most of its crew dead and whipstaff in splinters, was adrift when she bumped her bow against _Intrepid_ with a final desultory kiss. The Spaniard swung away from the light impact. "Looks like we'll pass the _patache_ , sir. She's got no grapples on us."
"Very well, but I want deckhands with hatchets out to cut any they might land over our stanchions. And do we have those burning arrows put out?"
"Yes, sir, but we've taken a few more. Working to douse them, now, sir."
"Work quickly. I'm going to call for steam in a few minutes and I'd like to be dark when we do it, not surrounded by another swarm of these damn small boats. They're getting too close for—"
Eddie could not distinguish all the cries that started up, almost simultaneously. There were two more contacts off the starboard bow: a piragua and a barca-longa, both sizable and loaded with boarders who did not appear to be Spanish, let alone part of any civilized army in or out of Christendom. At the same time, the second sloop that had been approaching the port quarter, and which had presumably withdrawn after seeing what happened to her sister ship, had swerved in close to the still-reloading port-side after-battery. And, last, appearing from behind the shadow of the almost derelict _patache_ , came a lateen-rigged pinnace, loaded with Spaniards.
Eddie gave the orders he could. _All swivels and mitrailleuses should engage all targets upon which they could bear. Raise steam. Ready the rest of the Wild Geese._ But then events took over and finally, the well-coordinated battle fought by the _Intrepid_ devolved into a series of desperate brawls. The sloop fired her sakers and demi-culverins at the after-battery that had savaged her sister ship. Balls bounced off _Intrepid_ 's hull timbers, but several smaller ones from the pirate's swivels played across the gun crews. The two carronades that had been reloaded replied, one landing a solid shell amidships. The sloop heeled away from the threat of further fire.
At the port bow, the boarders from the pinnace threw grapples from a distance of five yards, as did a few doggedly courageous survivors aboard the _patache_ that was falling behind, still adrift. The ship's troops and Wild Geese aimed their fire down into the ferocious faces lining those decks, who returned the deadly compliment at the defenders some six-feet over their heads.
As that firefight raged and grenades started flying between the bows of the two ships, the starboard bow mitrailleuse yelled a report quickly down the speaking tube. But Eddie, distracted, missed the words which rolled out of the metal horn and which were clotted in a thick Swedish accent. "What?" Eddie asked.
His runner tugged his sleeve. "He said 'petard,' sir. And 'boom.'"
For one sliver of a second, Eddie froze, then ordered his runner forward to call up another squad of Wild Geese, this time to the starboard bow. The boy leaped down to the busy weather deck and began slaloming his way around deckhands and ship's troops to deliver the summons.
"What is the matter?" Gjedde asked.
"Spar torpedo. Like the ones you Danes used against our ironclads last year. We've got to make sure they don't—"
The starboard side mitrailleuse stuttered its way through one of its cassettes, riddling the new torpedo-armed piragua with bullets. Thank God. "Svantner, call for full steam. We're going to get out of here as soon as—"
But as the second ship off the starboard bow, the overpopulated barca-longa, drew closer, the mitrailleuse did not resume speaking. Eddie looked in the direction of the weapon's mount, saw the loader struggling to get the new ammunition cassette into the weapon, then begin struggling to get it out. It was clearly jammed, and the first grapple lines were already coming over the starboard bow.
And a new squad of Wild Geese had not yet risen up to reinforce that weapons mount. Eddie scanned, saw the commander of the Irish mercenaries waiting for just such an order, then sought his runner—and saw the young fellow, writhing in pain, just aft of the bows. Apparently, one of the few Spanish grenades that had cleared the bedroll-lined stanchions had put some fragments into the poor lad, who was leaving a spattering of blood to either side as he rocked to and fro, clutching his left thigh.
_Damn it._ Eddie spun on his real leg to look for Svantner—who was ringing up the steam and directing the helmsman. He turned quickly toward Gjedde, who was already staring at him. The Dane moved as if to head to the bows himself. "I shall take care—"
"No, Captain. You keep piloting the ship. I'll be back soon."
Gjedde winced, but nodded as Eddie pounded down the bridge stairs and limp-loped toward the starboard bow, shouting as he went. "Gallagher! Lieutenant Gallagher!"
He had closed half the distance before the young, anxious Irishman waiting at the companionway heard. "Sir?"
"Starboard weapons mount! Boarders!"
Gallagher turned, saw the frenzied activity in that direction, ducked his head into the companionway and started yelling orders.
By which time, Eddie was past him. Clumping up the stairs to the low fo'c'sle, he saw the last of the mitrailleuse's crew gunned down by a volley of pirate pistols and blunderbusses. The same fate had befallen most of the German musketeers, who, having fired their last charges, drew swords as Eddie came amongst them.
"Captain, what are you—?"
"Stand aside. Send the Wild Geese up toward me as soon as they arrive." Eddie stepped up into the mount, pushing aside the bodies of the mitrailleuse's slain crew.
Two grapples were already hooked over the gunwale of the reinforced pulpit in which the weapon was situated. Two Jacob's ladders had been hooked alongside them. Boarders were on their way up. But they weren't the immediate worry.
Eddie had read, and had since seen evidence, that the best marksmen in the Caribbean were not the soldiers of any nation, but pirates. Prizing unusually long French rifles, many pirate crews relied mostly on musketry to take ships, being both so accurate and able to mount so withering a hail of fire, that many merchantmen dared not handle sails or man a tiller. So they surrendered their ship, and usually lived or were, at worst, ransomed. Which, by logical deduction, made the most dangerous men in the barca-longa the musketeers who had wrought such death among the mitrailleuse's crew and nearby ship's troops.
Eddie unholstered Ed Piazza's HP-35, leaned over the heavy-timbered pulpit of the weapon position and, both hands on the pistol's grip, began unloading its thirteen-round magazine down among the pirate-crowded thwarts of the barca-longa.
Bodies started falling, men cursing. Not more than half of Eddie's shots were hits, and less than half of those were lethal or even extremely serious. But the sudden and unexpected volume of fire from so strange-sounding a weapon—each report as sharp and spiteful as a cracking whip made of lightning—almost froze the pirates. In the very next second, they were diving for cover as they became aware of the murderous swath the weapon was cutting among their crew.
Eddie fished in his ammo pouch for the next magazine as he pressed the magazine release. The old box slipped out just in time for him to run the next one up and into the handle—and the first pirate face appeared over the gunwale.
Fortunately, it wasn't a face alone that could kill him— _although this one is damned near ugly enough!_ —but rather, the weapon-filled hands that were soon to follow it. Eddie thumbed the slide-lock, brought up the pistol as the slide rammed forward and primed it, and fired twice into that ferocious, nearly animalistic face. At a range of two feet.
Eddie did not see the effect of the bullets. The weapon bucked and the face disappeared. He leaned back out over the pulpit-mount to unload the rest of his second magazine down into the barca-longa—and discovered just how combat-hardened and reactive pirate crews were.
Had he not stumbled a bit on his weakening left leg, the first volley of counter-fire from the pirate musketeers below him would probably have been lethal, or at least debilitating. As it was, one ball came close enough to audibly whisper past his right ear. Tempted to duck down, Eddie forced himself to assess the scene in the boat: no other readied pieces. The rest of the pirates were either reloading or getting on the Jacob's ladders to board.
Eddie steadied the HP-35 with both hands, tracked along the men who were reloading the muskets and two-tapped each one of them. Again, after the first two seconds, pirates were diving in every direction for cover. And just as the HP-35's slide came back and stayed back, two pairs of grimy hands came up over the gunwale, one holding a long-wicked looking life.
Eddie gulped, ejected the second magazine, fished around for the third one. He took a quick step back—
—and ran into buff-coated Lieutenant Gallagher. "We'll take it from here, if't please you, Commander."
Eddie nodded as two other Wild Geese pushed past and slashed at the grimy hands with their sabers. Shrieks of agony plummeted toward the water as the Irish mercenaries drew their pepperboxes and, hugging low to the rim of the weapon-mount, sent their deadly waves of fire down into the barca-longa. Cries rose up in three different languages to back oars and get the hell away from the steamship.
Eddie half stumbled down the stairs to the main deck, where Svantner was running toward him, a hand extended in concern. Eddie waved it off. "That runner—that boy—he needs help. He was—"
"Already attended to, sir. And you? Are you unhurt."
"Yes, damn it. Now stand still for a second and report. Are we at full steam?"
"Yes, sir. We should be able to pull away and—"
Looking over Svantner's right shoulder, scanning to see how his ship was doing, Eddie caught sight of the rear end of a piragua disappearing beneath the arc of the starboard quarter gunwale, heard the Big Shot swivel gun covering that section of the ship fire. Bodies splashed in the water, but not all of them seemed to have been hit by the immense gun. It looked like some of the piragua's crew had jumped in. And Eddie realized: the _piraguas_ were too low to the water to have any chance of putting boarders on _Intrepid_ 's decks. Which meant, if they closed in this far, and their crews were jumping out—
"Spar torpedo! Sink that _piragua_! Any gun that can bear! Sink—!"
Eddie, running stiffly in that direction as he shouted the warning, heard a dull _th-tunk_ , as if a spear or hook had embedded itself in the hull timbers. The piragua, rowed at speed, had probably lodged a prow-spike into _Intrepid_. "Shoot the torped—the petard!" Eddie changed in mid-sentence, realizing that older word would be more immediately understood. "Or shoot the boom it's on! Just shoot—!"
The Big Shot spoke again, but its discharge was drowned out by a roar that shook the deck out from under Eddie's feet and sent part of the quarterdeck's stanchion-and-bedroll sides flying up among the mizzen sheets. The hazard bell began ringing in engineering and as Eddie picked himself up off the deck, he couldn't be sure if he was staggering or _Intrepid_ was listing.
An iron hand grasped his arm, steadied him. Eddie looked round: Gjedde. "Captain. Are we—?"
"I know nothing more than you. Go to the bridge. I will see. You, sailor! Help the captain to his post. Svantner, do we still have steam?"
"No, sir."
"Why?" yelled Eddie, trying not to sound like he was watching his child, his creation, die beneath his feet. Which was exactly what he was in terror of.
"I do not know, sir. No comms from Engineering."
_Damn it_. The piragua had hit back by the engines. "Svantner, get below. I'll see to guiding the pilot, but we've got to get solid information about our engines. If we can't steam out of here—"
Svantner nodded his understanding of the mortal consequences of that scenario and was then sliding down the handrails of the companionway into the darkness of the lower decks.
Gjedde reappeared from back near the transom, scanning the near waters for the outline of any approaching ships. "Captain Cantrell, it is as you surmised. We were struck by a spar torpedo."
"Damage?" Eddie found he couldn't breathe, watching Gjedde as he chewed his lower lip.
"Less than I expected, frankly," the Norwegian answered. "I cannot tell if it was because of the inferiority of their bomb—it was simply a petard, I think—or the stoutness of _Intrepid_ 's timbers. But other than some shattered strakes, the hull held up remarkably well."
"And for that, you may thank the ship's design," added Svantner, who came bounding breathlessly back up to the weather deck. Gjedde frowned.
Eddie smiled explained. "He means the citadel design: the armor housing we put around the engine and boiler."
Svantner, panting and doubled over, nodded weakly. "Aye, sir. Because of the inner armoring, the hull could not compress too much at that point, and that second layer, so to speak, made any spalling or shattering of the internal timbers almost impossible."
"So the engines—?"
"Are fine, Captain Cantrell. The chief engineer shut them down because he wanted to ease the pressure, just in case any damage had been done to the rivets, seams, or tubes. He brought the steam down to diagnostic levels and is pleased to report all normal and that it shall be restored within the minute. As far as the hull damage is concerned, the pumps are keeping well ahead of the leaks coming in through the seams that the explosion sprung." A gout of new smoke erupted from the _Intrepid_ 's stack as if to punctuate the engines' readiness with an exclamation mark. "Orders, sir?" Svantner asked with a smile.
"As if you need to ask!" Eddie said. "Bring her to south by southwest and let's get the hell out of here—full steam ahead."
**_January 1636_**
The unity and married calm of states
**_The coast of eastern Texas_**
Larry Quinn raised his hand and pointed to a darker skein of water on the left side of the narrow inlet they were approaching. "There's the deeper water. Steer to that."
Karl Klemm nodded. "Will there be a countercurrent, Major Quinn?"
Larry shrugged. "I doubt it. The mouth of the Calcasieu shouldn't be putting a lot of water out into the Gulf."
Kleinbaum, a woodland and jungle scout who had come highly recommended from his time working for the Dutch in the jungles of the Pernambuco, stared backward from the bow. "We're going _into_ the mouth of the Calcasieu? You said we were beaching east of it."
Larry didn't like his tone, but was willing to let it slide. Once. "That's _not_ what I said, Sebastian. I said we'd look at the inlet and make a final call when we got here. Needed to look at the land, see if it has regular visits from the natives. Sure doesn't look like it."
"Yes? Well, I think it is unwise to move inland at all. We should stay on the coast, where we can move away more quickly if we encounter the cannibals."
Larry sighed but held his ready temper in check. "First, we have no proof that the Atakapas are cannibals or that they are in this area at all. Which I've repeated at least a dozen times in the past three days. And second, you've shared your thoughts on what we should do quite clearly already—three times on the way in. Any more, and I'd be tempted to construe that as disrespect for your commanding officer."
Kleinbaum stared at the approaching sands of the East Texas coast, slightly roseate in the setting sun. "You brought me along to provide you with my best assessment of the lands we are in," he muttered, his voice as stubborn and retracted as the hunched curve of his back.
"Yes," replied Larry. "But we're not on the land or anywhere near its flora, fauna, or inhabitants, yet. Unless you are telling me that your expertise starts from three miles off shore?"
Kleinbaum clearly did not want to respond, but knew he had to: he shook his head. "But going upriver always invites trouble—no matter where you are."
"Does it?" Larry countered quickly. "Kleinbaum, just so you know, I'm going up into the inlet a few dozen meters so that we'll have some depth in which we can anchor and sleep aboard. Yeah, it will be crowded, but we can scoot in a minute. Whereas if we pulled onto the beach on either side of the inlet, we'd have to haul the boat back into the surf before we could get away. Does that sound like a better idea to you?"
From behind, Larry could see Kleinbaum's jaw working angrily. "No, sir," he answered finally.
Quinn leaned back, raising his binoculars again. On either side of the narrow inlet that ultimately led to Calcasieu Lake, low sand-and-scree shores stretched straight and narrow into the vanishing-point distance of either horizon. Beyond them, low scrub brush and occasional stunted trees gave the land the appearance of having a youngster's tousled head of hair. Nothing foreboding. Hell, nothing much at all.
"Major Quinn," Karl said so quietly that he was almost inaudible over the surging growl of the Sportsman's engine, "I think I remember reading that the Atakapas have an extensive coastal range."
_Leave it to Karl to read_ all _the supplemental briefing materials_. "That's correct."
"Then why did we start toward the Mermentau River before the _Courser_ left Galveston Bay, sir? If something should go wrong—well, there aren't many of us to handle any unexpected problems."
"Karl, that was very tactfully put, but I'm not a particularly tactful person, so I'm going to answer your real question. Yes, this boat and its small crew will head up the Mermentau as soon as we reach it. Alone. Because even once the _Courser_ joins us, her forces will be too far away to make much of a difference. Not unless we wait for them to paddle the ship's boats upriver with us. Which rather defeats the purpose of having a motorboat: to explore and make contact quickly. And to be able to leave quickly as well, if need be."
Karl swallowed; he glanced back at Wright and Vogel's lever-action rifles. "I understand, sir. But wouldn't the natives be more inclined to, er, diplomacy if they understood, from the start, that we had a strong force at our disposal?"
Quinn smiled ruefully. "You know, Karl, that was pretty much the first-contact philosophy throughout the colonization of the New World. And most of the time, it set exactly the wrong tone. Can we awe them? Sure. But there are two problems with that strategy. First, they are the masters of this country, not us. So if they want to stay unfound and unmet, they'd have no trouble doing so, particularly if we bring a company of troops to blunder around in the bush and the swamps that they grew up in.
"Second, if we do meet them, do we really want to awe them? Awe is the first cousin to fear, which has its roots in threat. If you consider the accounts of first contact in this part of the country, the smaller the contacting group, the more personal the interactions. You bring too large a group, and you look like invaders or a warchief with an escort. But if you come in smaller numbers, you look like explorers and are treated more as individuals, which is how friendships start." Quinn rubbed his close-cropped hair. "My ancestors spent two hundred years trying to intimidate and control the natives in the New World. And yeah, they got their way, but killed whole nations in the process. This time, knowing a little bit about the different tribes in advance, we're going to try a different approach."
Karl nodded. "This sounds most prudent—and ethical. Although even if they are our friends, that does not mean they will be willing to let us drill holes in their land."
_No_ , thought Quinn, _it doesn't. Which could put one hell of a giant wrinkle in all our fine plans_. But all he said was, "Give it a little more throttle, Karl. Take us in."
**_Santo Domingo, Hispaniola_**
Fadrique Álvarez de Toledo, Admiral of the Armada de Barlovento, hearing the sudden increase in gaiety in the villa's great-room beneath them, raised a glass of rioja toward his host, who sat opposite him at the table in the well-appointed study. "Happy New Year, Don de Viamonte. A fine party, worthy of the grandees of Madrid."
Juan Bitrian de Viamonte y Navarra, who was still flushed from the exertions of dancing the evening's first extended _rigaudon_ , waved away the compliment. "First, the party is not so fine as you say, and you know it well. Second, if I am to be able to deflect your tiresome courtesies with good nature, we must agree to first names. And last, the party is not a half-worthy celebration of what you accomplished, my dear Admiral."
"What I accomplished?" Fadrique scoffed. "Now you mock me—Juan."
"I do not—Fadrique," responded the half-crippled captain-general with a warm and genuine smile. "Santo Domingo still stands today because of your triumph at the Battle of Vieques."
"The Battle of Vieques, as too many are styling it, was no victory," countered Fadrique. "It was at best, a stalemate. And we paid for it with eight galleons, two galleoncetes, and three __patache__ s sunk or irreparable. All this while running away from a fleet we outnumbered, three ships to one, for almost three consecutive days. And you will note I do not include the losses among our 'privateers,' losses which numbered well over twenty hulls, when we include the actions to the south, where the Dutch escaped." He irritably sucked in a full-cheeked swig of the red wine, as he had not done since resolving to regain his fitness and the finer form of his youth. "Another few 'victories' such as the one off Vieques and we shall be done for, in the New World."
Juan shook his head. "You are wrong, Fadrique. Wrong in so many ways, I do not know where to begin enumerating them. Let us return to my first comment. Had your stratagems not repelled these so-called 'Allied forces,' they would have reached this city. And we have all heard what similar up-time naval rifles did to the fortifications at Hamburg last year. They were reduced to rubble in half an afternoon. Had that happened here, how many more ships would we have lost? How many thousands of men? How many slips in which we may build the ships with which we must fight this new menace? And, perhaps more importantly, how would we have fought a war against them in the Lesser Antilles when our next stronghold truly worthy of that label is Havana, far to the west? How could we have hoped to contest their further expansion, and ultimately, contain and suffocate them on the few islands they currently hold? No, my dear Fadrique, you may have lost ships, but you won the battle. Any outcome which did not end in the leveling of Santo Domingo is a strategic victory of the first order. And yours is the mind and will that produced it."
"Well, I—"
"I am not finished, Admiral!" Juan remonstrated histrionically, his color becoming more normal. "Since I have returned to the topic of lost ships, I concede that yes, you did lose many. But you presumed that from the outset, did you not? And many of those lost used to be piratical scourges that are no longer a worry to us, are they not? You need not answer. I know the rightness of my assertions. And what did you accomplish with those losses?" Juan leaned forward and raised his wine-glass toward the man who had become a friend over the past five months. "You drove off those two steamships, and even significantly damaged one. The same ships which sunk and captured so many of our vessels at the Battle of Grenada Passage and routed all the rest. Your strategy—to bait them onward until the weather, sea, or light were unfavorable to their guns—was decisive. They did not discern it quickly enough to counteract it. They were lucky to escape, as it was."
"Not so lucky, Juan," Fadrique insisted, emphasizing his disagreement with a jabbed index finger. "The objective was not merely to deflect their probable strike against this city, but to inflict losses among the slower hulls in the rear of their formation. Every fluyt we sink of theirs reduces their ability to project power, to sail great distances with the troops and supplies and powder and coal that they require. It was unfortunate that we tangled with their steam behemoths at all, and see what it cost us! They were cautious enough not to give chase as ardently or swiftly as they might have,"— _as_ I _might have_!—"and so we were not able to strike them at their weak point: support ships. Logistics. And now that we have tipped our hand, strategically, we must expect that they shall not give us such an easy opportunity again." He set down the empty glass. What he really wanted to do was shatter it on the table. "The flaw was in relying upon the pirate bastards in the south. They grew too eager, sprang the trap too early. In another hour, they would have regrouped properly and been abaft the beam of the rearmost Dutch fluyt. Our foes' escape would have been far more difficult and costly, then."
Juan frowned, nodded sympathetically. "Do we know what happened, in the south?"
"What else? Their spleen and bloodlust got the better of them. And I was foolish not to put more of our _patache_ s in with them. Equiluz had to hold the mountains of St. Croix in his spyglass toward the far eastern end of our ambush line. Only he was reliable enough to accomplish that. Without him there, the whole sorry lot of them would no doubt have drifted apart in a few hours. And our privateers proved indifferent at sending signals clearly and promptly."
Juan shrugged. "You did the best you could with the resources you had. The Dutch lost a few ships, got a good scare that should give them pause, and ran away. Now, we have coast-watchers who may give us more timely warning of any subsequent approach. And soon, we shall bring the war to these pestiferous 'allies.'"
"Yes, and we've some good officers with which to do it. You know, Juan, I shall confess: I had my reservations about de Covilla when you first introduced us. But beneath that refinement, he's a good soldier. Last one off his galleon before it sank. His men admire his cool demeanor under fire, and they came under fire enough, from those steamships."
Juan traced the rim of his wineglass with his finger. "I have meant to ask: why did you put him up at the head of the van, closest to the steamships? Particularly if you had reservations about his, er, puissance?"
Fadrique shrugged. "By that time, I had revised my initial opinion of him. I also needed a person who knew our entire strategy to manage the pace and range of our retreat before the up-time ships. Most commanders would either have run, or turned and fought. And died. I needed a commander who could resist those two extreme impulses, and who was in our confidence regarding the trap we were setting with the southern privateer force." Fadrique snagged the decanter and poured another two fingers of rioja. "Now, de Covilla has seen combat, has had a ship shot out from under him, and did not flinch. And I know I have an excellent officer, in the bargain."
"Who seems to be making excellent progress with the ladies of my city, this evening."
"Well, it always helps to be a dashing, well-dressed war hero with one's arm in a sling, but with all his pieces still attached. As I said, a fine celebration you have hosted, Juan. And I would rather be here, in good, trustworthy company, than among the viperous grandees that will be clotting the king's ballroom in Madrid."
"Yes, and I wonder how welcome either one of us would be there, given what news we would have to report, and what Olivares might think of our resolve to renew our shipbuilding."
Fadrique frowned as he rolled the glass between his palms meditatively. "Since most of the ships we are building shall not qualify as workhorses for La Flota, and since they are coming from our own pockets, I wonder how much he can object. Although it will be the devil's own work getting him to send over the chandlery and cannon we need for them. But I think he will see the merits of spending a few thousand _reales_ once in order to secure the delivery of several millions of them every year. Olivares is often foolish, but still, is no fool. He must know that we cannot brook a serious naval rival in the New World and be able to assure the safety of his treasure fleets. Thanks to your first message, and the one just sent, he should have time to add extra galleons to the fleet he is sending in March. That way, the Dutch and their 'allies' will find it painfully difficult to plunder it when it finally departs Havana with its riches, in late summer."
Juan shrugged. "That presumes he has the ships to spare. So long as Olivares is committed to blockading the English Channel as close as we can to the Dutch coast, too many of our ships are tied down to their duties in Europe."
"Yes, but if Olivares lifts the blockade it will go even worse for us." Fadrique leaned forward. "From what I hear, the Dutch continue to build ships in _Amsterdam_ 's ways. As it is, more of their ships will begin appearing in these waters. If Oquendo's fleet is called away or significantly reduced to assist with matters elsewhere, the Dutch will come here in still greater numbers."
Juan nodded. "And then our ability to wear this Allied fleet down will be seriously reduced."
"Exactly. Which are just a few of the reasons why we must push Havana's Captain-General Gamboa to bring de Armendáriz and New Spain in line with our resolutions. He must add the weight of his funds and his shipyards to our own. Similarly, we must get the viceroy of Peru, and de Murga in Cartagena to awaken the slumbering _audiencias_ of Tierra Firma and make their own contributions." Fadrique lifted his glass. "Coordination and cooperation, my dear Juan. In the months to come, these must be our cardinal virtues. And if we would hope to see another New Year, we must accept that we will live or die by how well we achieve them—or not."
**_Oranjestad, St. Eustatia_**
In Oranjestad's newly completed governor's house, Eddie retreated from the dance floor, assisted by Anne Cathrine. His stump, still recovering from the long hours on deck and the constant tension of both actual and impending battle, was not cramping yet, but he could tell that if he didn't give it a rest, his wife would spend the rest of the evening without a regular dance partner.
The great-hall/ballroom/dining room of the governor's house was airy and clean, but sparsely furnished. The foods and drinks were quite predictable, but the plenitude of rum on this evening either dulled the sensibilities of the attendees or simply induced them not to give a damn. It was a party, there was music, and best of all, it was a new year and they were still alive. Just a month ago, that last fact had remained very much in doubt.
The ratio of men to women was actually much better than usual. No more than five to one, this night. But that had been achieved through a variety of careful machinations. First, many of Warner's English ladies had been invited up to St. Eustatia. Which was to say, they had been furnished with a _gratis_ yacht ride to-and-fro, and gifts beside. And even some of the island's French women had made the journey as well, most of them having been unceremoniously abandoned when d'Esnambuc was forced to flee on his one remaining ship without returning to Dieppe Town. Many of the ladies were widows, many had been abandoned years ago, many more were mixed race orphans whose situation in the French colony had always been delicate.
The English governor Warner had accepted the invitation as well, and had brought his wife, children, and several influential members of his now-expanded colony. For the first time in years, it was relatively safe for many of the leaders of the English colony to be absent, in large part due to the repulse of the ships and soldiers of its French neighbors. The troops that the captured French bark had already put ashore near Bloody Point had been tracked down swiftly enough in the nearby hills. Most of the other French forces in the colony had been aboard d'Esnambuc's own bark, the _Bretagne_ , which had withdrawn. Once free of pursuit, she had swept around the southern end of St. Christopher's to head up along the island's windward side and so get news of the attack upon St. Eustatia. What d'Esnambuc got instead was a view of du Plessis' ship, the _Main Argent_ , fleeing southward toward him, flanked by native _piraguas_ . In the distance, several Dutch jachts, along with the _Orthros_ , had been in hot pursuit or landing their ship's troops along the French colony's strands. Seeing that, d'Esnambuc and du Plessis had turned their bowsprits southward and vanished into the gathering night.
On the dance floor, almost a third of the men in semi-finery—Tromp's command staff, a few troopers from the Wild Geese, and officers of various ships of the USE flotilla—made regretful bows and were ushered out the door by an honor-guard led by Cuthbert Pudsey. That bandaged worthy then admitted an equal number of men of similar rank, and in similar partial finery. Eddie smiled. This had been the other method of ensuring that the male to female ratio remained beneath the testosterone-alert levels. The men attended in shifts, while the ladies were allowed—indeed, encouraged—to stay for the duration of the evening. Or, now, morning.
Anne Cathrine surveyed the beginning of the next dance with a high-necked and utterly regal expression of immense satisfaction. "It is a fine celebration."
"It sure is." Eddie craned his neck. "But where are your ladies-in-waiting?"
Anne Cathrine swatted his arm lightly. "I am but a king's daughter. I do not have 'ladies-in-waiting,' or are you implying that I am taking on airs?"
"You? Absolutely not, your Royal Exalted Highness of the Universe and Empress of Supreme and Sultry Sexiness."
"Sshhh, Eddie! People will hear!"
"Let 'em. I'm a truth-telling man, by nature," he half-lied. "But seriously, where are Sophie and Sis?"
Anne Cathrine suddenly looked as coy as a debutante and crafty as a cat. "Well, Sophie chose to forego the festivities."
"What? Why?"
"She's in the infirmary."
"Now? Couldn't they get someone else to cover it?"
"Actually, no. And she was quite willing to make the sacrifice."
Eddie was impressed. "Well, that's a hell of a noble gesture."
"Oh, yes. Most certainly." She actually hid the lower half of her face behind her fan and tittered. "Quite noble indeed!"
"What—? Oh, wait a minute."
"Ah, has my war-wizard genius-hero from the future figured it out at last?"
"The earl of Tyrconnell is still recovering in the infirmary, isn't he?"
Anne Cathrine nodded. "Yes, although his wounds seem almost fully healed to me. Except where he lost the last joint on his little finger; that still requires some care. Which Sophie takes every opportunity to provide, you understand. And when I say she takes every opportunity, I mean she seizes it violently, if need be. She almost pushed poor Dr. Brandão aside yesterday, in order to get to Lord O'Donnell first."
Eddie almost chortled at the sudden mental image of tall, fine-featured, almost severe Sophie Rantzau hip-checking wizened little Brandão out of the way to get dibs on her favorite patient. "And is Hugh—er, Lord O'Donnell—showing appropriate appreciation for her nursing skills and dedication?"
"I cannot tell." Anne Cathrine smiled. "But he has apparently started crafting some verses that he will allow no one else to see."
"Because he's a lousy poet, or because they are about her?"
Anne Cathrine's positively feline leer was back. "His men tell me he is actually a fairly gifted writer of odes."
"Huh. A man of many talents, I guess. And where's Leonora?"
"With Rik Bjelke."
"Really?" He scanned the dance floor but did not see them. "Where are they?"
"Oh, they're gone."
"Gone? Why?"
Anne Cathrine shrugged. "Well, you know Leonora. She got bored with the dancing. So she went outside to show Rik the constellations that we can see here, but not in Denmark."
"You're kidding. She took him out to star-gaze?"
"Yes. And he seemed genuinely interested."
"In the stars or in her?"
Anne Cathrine actually giggled. "Both, I think." She scanned the nearby crowd. Her laughter became a genuine, but very public, smile as two men emerged from the festive throng. "Admiral, Governor. How wonderful to see you this evening. And our thanks for this lovely celebration."
The two Dutchmen had emerged from behind a cluster of officers signing their names on a tired but cheery young lady's dance card. They approached and bowed to Anne Cathrine—a little more deeply now, Eddie thought. Van Walbeeck straightened up with a smile almost immediately. "I saw you two dancing earlier. I must say, you are a handsome couple! Well, you would be if Eddie wasn't half of it."
Eddie almost gargled his rum punch. Anne Cathrine smiled. "Oh," she said, slipping a shapely arm through her husband's, "on that point, Governor, I must disagree."
"Ah, well and loyally spoken, my lady. You are having a good time, it seems."
"Wonderful," Anne Cathrine replied. "And you and your men seem quite jovial, Admiral."
Eddie didn't think Tromp looked jovial. Hell, Tromp _never_ looked "jovial." But the Dutchman certainly looked pleased and relaxed. "We are glad to be on land, together, and alive to greet the New Year. And to be in the presence of such beauty as you bring to this party, Lady Anne Cathrine."
Van Walbeeck poked Maarten Tromp in the arm. "Here, now, you sly sea-dog! _I'm_ the shameless flatterer. Do not presume to usurp my role!"
Anne Cathrine smiled beatifically. "You gentlemen are both so gallant. You are also so thoroughly under the influence of rum that your eyes have grown kind and easily pleased. Now forgive me as I ask my husband if he is ready to dance again?"
Eddie listened to the opening chords or the next dance: a _gigue_. And a pretty lively one. He shook his head sadly. "Honey, if I dance to that, I won't be dancing again for a week. How about the governor, here? Mijn heer van Walbeeck looks like he could bust a few moves."
"Bust a few what?"
"Like he'd be an excellent dancer. Now, go have fun!"
Tromp stared at Eddie, at the new dance partners who were making their way out on to the floor, and shook his head with a smile. He raised a small snifter of schnapps toward the up-timer. " _Proost_ , Eddie. And a very Happy New Year."
"You, too, Admiral."
"I am Maarten, please. I am not so formal as all that. Particularly not with my colleagues."
Eddie thought he'd choke on his punch again or laugh. Or maybe shout with a mix of triumph and pride. Maarten Tromp, an admiral out of the legends of history, had labeled him a colleague and suggested they proceed on a first-name basis. How cool was _that_?
"Well, Happy New Year to you, too, Maarten. I'm just sorry we can't be celebrating it in Santo Domingo."
Tromp stared down at his schnapps. "Not me. That would have been a very bloody business. Even if your guns had reduced the city as quickly as you projected, I suspect we would still be there, up to our knees in refugees, and bodies, and debris, and the misery of the people whose city we had destroyed. No, I think it is better to have New Year's here."
"Well, I certainly agree with that, Maarten. But I can only hope they have the same tender consideration for us when they come after Oranjestad."
Maarten stirred his rum punch. "And they will come, of course."
"Yep. And by deflecting our drive on Santo Domingo, they debuted a new playbook. And whoever's authoring it is one smart cookie."
"You mean by deferring engagement until night, or by going after our _Achilles_ heel: our support ships?"
"Both, and more besides. The Spanish have never given lighter, fore-and-aft rigged ships any serious consideration as combat platforms. They got into the galleons-as-sea-forts mentality about a century ago, and haven't budged. But this guy, whoever he is, threw that out after one nasty surprise off Grenada." Eddie shook his head. "The Spanish admirals are usually not out-of-the-box thinkers. But this guy is, and that makes him dangerous. Hell, he was even willing to recruit pirates to get enough of the right kind of ships and crews for his ambush. And he almost pulled it off."
"Well, at least we know what to look for, in the future," Tromp offered. "Although I suspect that this fellow had alternate tactics in the event of bad weather, since poor visibility favors his ships in other ways."
"Yeah, I'm sure he had a Plan B. And probably a Plan C for really high seas. Either way, until we retrofit our ships with a fire-control system that's electronically triggered by our interferometers, and also come up with some night vision gear, they're going to try to engage us in unfavorable fighting conditions. And as long as they keep a lot of their lighter ships around to run interference, it's going to be pretty hard to pin down their heavies and sink them."
Tromp nodded. "Yes. He made quite an accurate study of both your gunnery, and the conditions that will nullify its superiority. And he deduced he needed lighter ships to 'run interference' as you call it. And I am not sure how we can parry his riposte. Unless we find some pirates of our own to recruit."
Eddie smiled. "Or even better, some disaffected Englishmen. They do run quite a number of sloops and yachts between here, the Bahamas, Bermuda, and even Barbados."
Tromp smiled and raised his schnapps snifter in a toast. "An excellent project and New Year's resolution." He took a sip, grew somber. "It would certainly have been helpful to have even four or five more such ships when we tried to push through them to the south. We sank or disabled enough of them, but our warships were too slow to exploit the gaps we punched in their trap before they filled it with more of their swift ships. As it was, we were still fighting when light fell. Thank God that the __Resolve__ showed up when she did and made steam. The lights from her, and her funnel, gave us a gathering point, kept us from scattering further. By following her, we got moving in the right direction even though we couldn't see each other's signals. By the way, I am now a convert to your insistence that every ship has a blinker tube. It would have been an immense help at the end of that combat. And perhaps we might not have had to lose the _Pinas_ and the _Zeeland_."
"Why?"
"Because they were not sinking so much as they were damaged, unable to make headway. Had we been able to find them in the dark sooner, we might have been able to assess the damage and effect enough repairs to allow them to keep up with the rest of our ships." Maarten flipped one impatient palm upward. "But instead, by the time we found them, we were already worried about not getting far enough away, by becoming embroiled in a second day of combat. There wasn't the time to fix much, and we couldn't afford to leave the crews behind. So we had to scuttle them. Such a waste. We need every hull we have. And more."
"No argument from me on that point, Maarten. Are your folks finished refitting the Spanish ships we took off Grenada?"
"Not quite, but soon. Frankly, the Spanish ships are so slow that they will not be much use to us when we sail to war. But they will be serviceable enough as part of our defense forces, either here or at Trinidad, I think." He smiled. "They do quite well as floating batteries, at least."
"What about giving them a better fore-and-aft rig on their mizzen? Or spencer masts?"
Tromp shrugged. "One has clean enough lines to warrant such modifications, and we might do so, if time permits. But the others—they are fortress-scows to carry silver back to Seville."
Eddie finished his drink. "I suppose, all things considered, we came out of it well enough. Even if we failed in our main objective."
Tromp seemed to study him closely, for a moment. Then said: "I think you underestimate what we gained, Captain Cantrell. As a result of the battle off Vieques, we have resolved what may have been the single greatest weakness we had."
"Which was?"
"You. Or more precisely, everyone's assessment of you."
Eddie must have looked startled, because Tromp's face was briefly creased with an outright grin—very unusual for such a reserved man. "Come now, Eddie. Surely you understood the predicament we were all in—you more than anyone, perhaps. On the one hand, we were dependent on your knowledge and skills. On the other . . ."
Eddie understood. "I had no . . . the term we up-timers use is 'track record.'" Seeing Tromp's slight frown of puzzlement, Eddie clarified the term. "That means personal—no, more like professional—history. You knew nothing about my . . . well, courage, I suppose."
"Not exactly that." Tromp's grin half-reappeared. "The Danes are quite fond of you. Not only married to one of their king's daughters but, in an odd sort of way, they seem to have transmuted your somewhat suicidal ramming of one of their ships at Wismar into a Danish feat."
Eddie didn't bother trying to explain that the supposedly "somewhat suicidal ramming" at Wismar had been entirely an accident. He'd fought and lost that battle too many times already. Legends could have the thickest hides in creation.
Tromp shook his head. "But frenzied berserk courage is not the same thing as cool control under fire, maintained for hours. That, more than anything, is what a commander has to have—and that is what you displayed at Vieques. Displayed in full measure. So no one has any questions, any longer, about your fitness for command. Which means"—he issued a slight chuckle—"that the next time you try to caution us that we don't understand some subtlety of the way up-time technology affects naval tactics, everyone will listen respectfully. Even Johan van Galen. That may prove critical in the battles still to come."
A little embarrassed, Eddie didn't know quite how to respond. Luckily, an interruption came. A side door into the ballroom opened and a squarish man entered. He was not dressed for the party. Rather, he looked like a workman, perhaps come to fix one of the storm shutters.
Eddie smiled: Mike McCarthy, Jr. "Hey, Mr. Mike!" Eddie cried out, reverting to the form of address he'd used as a kid, "over here!"
Mike scanned for the source of the voice, spotted Eddie, nodded curtly, and began the laborious job of winding through the dense throngs of men clustered about any woman on or near the dance floor. When he finally extricated himself from the eager, sweating, would-be swains, he looked about in exasperation. "Jeez," he exhaled, "I really am glad I decided not to come."
"And yet, here you are," observed Tromp with a small smile. Then the admiral became quite grave. "Mr. McCarthy, before the moment slips away, I want to say that this colony owes you a singular debt of gratitude, although not all of our citizens are comfortable admitting, and therefore, expressing it. So allow me to say this for every man and woman on St. Eustatia: had our landowners' slaves not been converted into bondsmen with freedom in their future, I am quite certain they would have either joined the Kalinago during the attack, or simply stood aside. And that would have been the end of this colony, given how very many of our troops were in service elsewhere or embarked on the transports heading for Santo Domingo."
Mike did exactly what Eddie expected: he waved it off. "I'm just a guy with a big mouth, Admiral. Sometimes that big mouth is helpful, sometimes it's harmful. No reason to get worked up too much, either way. I'm just here to drop off a few pieces of news: the radio is working again. I've got two messages that came through clearly from Europe. We were trying to trade signals with Vlissingen all afternoon, which was working as a priority relay to the naval radio shack in Luebeck."
"So you were swapping Morse code with headquarters, but not Grantville," Eddie clarified.
"Yep. First item relevant to our mission: on Christmas Eve, the new rotary drill prototype got down to almost seven hundred feet before breaking down. But the crew was able to save the rig, contain the damage, and protect themselves. By this time next year, we'll be digging holes a whole lot faster and deeper in Trinidad."
_And, more important_ , _in Louisiana too_ , _if Quinn's expedition is successful_ , Eddie thought behind the cover of his broad smile and approving nod. "And the other message?"
Mike smiled. "The other message is for you, Eddie. Personally. From Simpson."
"A personal message for me? From the admiral?"
"Yep. Because it summarized a bunch of politicking back home, it kind of rambled, so I only brought the last part on paper. But I can pretty much synopsize the rest. Simpson sends his warm congratulations on all that you and the 'Allies' have achieved. It is his pleasure to promote you to full commander on the basis of meritorious action. Furthermore, due to the death of Admiral Mund, he agrees to extend your brevet rank of post-captain indefinitely." Mike noticed Eddie's broad grin and shook his head. "Y'know, Eddie, you never get a promotion without new headaches."
Eddie found he was no longer smiling.
"Simpson went on to say that 'growing developments' back home in the USE make it 'imprudent' for Simpson's own new fleet to set sail for the New World. First of all, it's not ready yet. He's still overseeing the first production runs of the improved cruiser and destroyer classes that you auditioned here. He also cited 'uncertain international situations' as a reason to keep the strategic power of the new fleet close to home."
"What kind of international situations?"
"He didn't say, and with Simpson, you don't ask. Know what I mean?"
"Do I ever. Go on, Mike."
Mike shook his head, reached into his pocket, pulled out a telegrapher's sheet and handed it to Eddie with a crooked smile. "I figured you might want to read the rest of it yourself."
Eddie, nodding dumbly, took the sheet and read Admiral Simpson's closing remarks:
> _Collectively, these circumstances require that the core of the USE fleet remains in Luebeck. Logically, this compels a strategic revision of the mission profile of Reconnaissance Flotilla X-Ray. Specifically, it is no longer a mere reconnaissance-in-force. It is, _de facto_ , the USE's Caribbean fleet-in-being, and the only tool available to accomplish this nation's critical objectives in that region. Consequently, so that our command-grade contribution to what is being called the composite Allied fleet enjoys equal standing with the senior staffs of the other participating nations, King Christian IV of Denmark is pleased to confer upon post-Captain Edward Cantrell the acting rank of Commodore in Danish service. He has confirmed that this rank shall be recognized by all the nations signatory to the Union of Kalmar, as well as the armed forces of the U.S.E._
> _So I wish you good hunting in the New Year—and Godspeed, Commodore Cantrell._
Still staring at the sheet without really seeing it, Eddie murmured. "Hell. I've been promoted. Several times."
"Yeah," commiserated Mike. "Ain't it a bitch?"
**Álvarez De Toledo y Mendoza, Fadrique** —Admiral of the Armada de Barlovento
**Anne Cathrine** —Oldest daughter of Christian IV by his morganatic marriage to Kirsten Munk; "king's daughter" but not "princess"; married to Eddie Cantrell
**Aossey, Lolly** —Geologist
**Banckert, Adriaen** —Dutch naval officer
**Banckert, Joost** —Vice Admiral of the Dutch Fleet
**Barto** —Pirate captain and privateer
**Bjelke, Henrik** —Norwegian nobleman, officer in Reconnaissance Flotilla X-Ray (RF X-Ray)
**Brandão, Ambrósio** —Sephardic physician
**Calabar** —Brazilian soldier, freedom-fighter, plantation owner
**Cantrell, Eddie** —Lieutenant Commander, USE Navy; assigned to RF X-Ray
**Christian IV** —King of Denmark
**Corselles, Pieter** —First Governor of Oranjestad, later local director for the Dutch West India Company
**De Burgo, John** —Soldier, Wild Geese
**De Cárdenas y Manrique de Lara, Jorge** —Captain-General of the Armada de Barlovento
**De Covilla, Eugenio** —Captain of Spain
**De l'Olive, Charles Liénard** —French adventurer, assistant governor of Guadeloupe
**D'Esnambuc, Sieur Pierre Bélain** —Governor of the French colony on St. Christopher
**De Viomante y Navarra, Juan Bitrian** —Captain-General of Hispaniola and Santo Domingo
**Doyle, Thomas** —Lieutenant and field engineer, Wild Geese
**Du Parque, Jacques Dyel** —Administrator of Martinique; nephew of Pierre d'Esnambuc
**Du Plessis d'Ossonville, Jean** —French adventurer, governor of Guadeloupe
**Fernando** —King in the Netherlands, House of Hapsburg, younger brother of King Philip IV of Spain; married to Maria Anna of Austria
**Floriszoon, Pieter** —Dutch captain
**Gerritsz, Hans** —Dutch captain
**Gjedde, Ove** —Captain of __Intrepid__ , RF X-Ray
**Haakon, Gorm** —Officer in RF X-Ray
**Isabella** —Archduchess of the Spanish Lowlands, House of Habsburg
**Jol, Cornelis "Houtebeen/Peg Leg"** —Dutch captain
**Klemm, Karl** —Technical expert and oil prospector, special operations group, RF X-Ray
**Kortenaer, Bert** —Radio construction foreman
**Koudsi, Ann** —Oil drilling expert
**Leonora** —Second "king's daughter" of King Christian IV of Denmark by his morganatic marriage to Kristen Munk; sister of Anne Cathrine
**Maria Anna** —Wife of Fernando; Queen in the Lowlands; Archduchess of Austria, House of Hapsburg
**McCarthy, Jr., Mike** —Technical instructor
**McCarthy, Mike** —Elderly invalid ex-miner and Fenian
**Morraine, Paul** —Captain, __Fleur Sable__ , expatriate French naval officer
**Mulryan, Tearlach** —Ensign, Wild Geese
**Mund, Edel** —Wife of Pros Mund
**Mund, Pros** —Captain of _Resolve_ , and Admiral of RF X-Ray
**Murrow, James** —Soldier, Wild Geese
**O'Bannon, Kevin** —Captain, Wild Geese
**O'Cahan, Daniel** —Ensign, Wild Geese
**O'Donnell, Hugh Albert** —Earl of Tyrconnell, Colonel of the Wild Geese
**O'Rourke, Aodh** —Aide-de-camp to Hugh O'Donnell and Senior Sergeant of the Wild Geese
**Piazza, Ed** —President, State of Thuringia-Franconia
**Preston, Thomas** —Colonel of the Wild Geese
**Pudsey, Cuthbert** —English mercenary in Dutch service
**Quinn, Larry** —Major, USE Army, special operations group commander, RF X-Ray
**Rantzau, Sophie** —Danish noblewoman, companion to Anne Cathrine and Leonora
**Riijs** —Leader of Barto's landing force
**Rohrbach, Ulrich** —Oil drilling foreman
**Schooneman, Jakob** —Captain of the _Koninck David_
**Sehested, Hannibal** —Danish nobleman travelling with RF X-Ray; agent of King Christian
**Serooskereken, Philip** —Councilor of Oranjestad
**Simonszoon, Dirck** —Dutch captain
**Simpson, John Chandler** —Admiral, USE Navy
**St. Georges, George** —French expatriate naval officer
**Stiernsköld, Tryggve** —Captain of the _Tropic Surveyor_ , RF X-Ray
**Svantner, Arne** —Officer in RF X-Ray
**Touman** —Kalinago cacique from Guadeloupe
**Tromp, Maarten** —Admiral of the Dutch Fleet
**Turenne, Henri de la Tour d'Auvergne** —French general
**Van der Zaan, Willem** —Dutch cabin boy
**Van Galen, Johan** —Dutch captain
**Van Walbeeck, Jan** —Governor of St. Eustatia
**Von Holst, Hjalmar** —Dutch captain
Ship Types
> _Note: Ship designs and designations were not standardized in the early seventeenth century. The definitions that follow are therefore approximations that are generally accurate but from which any particular ship might deviate to one extent or another._
**Barca-longa** —A two- (sometimes three-) masted lugger, a vessel using a lugsail, which is a modified version of a square sail. Often used as fishing vessels.
**Bark (or Barque)** —A small vessel with three or more masts, the foremasts being square-rigged and the aftermast rigged fore-and-aft.
**Fluyt** —A Dutch cargo vessel, generally two to three hundred tons, at least eighty feet long, and with a distinctive pear shape when viewed fore or aft.
**Galleon** —A three- or four-masted warship developed from the heavy carrack cargo ships, but with a longer and lower design. Not usually more than six hundred tons. Typically, the mizzenmast was lateen-rigged.
**Galleoncete** —A smaller galleon, generally of one hundred to two hundred tons. Many were designed to be able to use oars.
**Jacht** —Agile and fast vessel with very shallow draft, originally developed by the Dutch to hunt pirates in the shallow waters of the Low Countries.
**Nao** —A galleon adapted for cargo-hauling.
**Patache** —A light two-masted vessel with a shallow draft, often favored by pirates and privateers.
**Piragua** —One- or two-masted native boat that was also adopted by Spanish and pirates. It was narrow, often made from the trunk of a tree, and could be sailed or rowed. Commonly for a crew of six to thirty.
**Yacht** —English version of the _jacht_.
Gun Types
> _Note: As with ship types, naval ordnance was not yet standardized in the early seventeenth century. It varied widely over time and between nations. The definitions reflect this extreme diversity._
**Cannon** —In general use, any type of artillery piece. Specifically, a very large gun that typically fired a shot of 32 pounds or more.
**Carronade** —Short-barreled gun firing shot that ranged from 6 to 68 pounds. Much lighter than cannons firing an equivalent weight of shot, but had much shorter range. Predominantly used as a broadside weapon, it was originally designed specifically for naval combat.
**Culverin** —More lightly constructed than cannons, guns of this type fired shot from 16 to 22 pounds.
**Demi-cannon** —Gun firing shot weighing from 22 to 32 pounds.
**Demi-culverin** —Slightly larger than a saker, this weapon fired shot from 9 to 16 pounds.
**Saker** —A small carriage-mounted gun, firing shot of eight pounds or less.
Rigging Terms
**Fore-and-aft-rigged** —A sailing rig consisting mainly of sails that are set along the line of the keel rather than perpendicular to it.
**Foremast** —The mast nearest the bow of a ship.
**Lateen-rigged** —A type of fore-and-aft rig in which a triangular sail is suspended on a long yard set at an angle to the mast.
**Mainmast** —The principal mast of a sailing vessel.
**Mizzenmast** —The mast aft or next aft of the mainmast.
**Square-rigged** —A sail and rigging design in which the main sails are carried on horizontal spars that are perpendicular, or square, to the keel of the vessel and to the masts.
**Stay** —A strong rope or wire supporting a mast.
**Yards** —The spars holding up sails.
**Yardarms** —The tips of the yards, beyond the last stay.
| {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaBook"
} | 5,144 |
\section{Introduction}
\bigskip
In this paper we study a class of fully nonlinear second-order
elliptic equations of the form
$$F(D^2u)=0\leqno(1)$$
defined in a domain of ${\bf R}^n$. Here $D^2u$ denotes the
Hessian of the function $u$. We assume that
$F$ is a Lipschitz function defined on an open set
$D\subset S^2({\bf R}^n)$ of the space of ${n\times n}$ symmetric
matrices satisfying the uniform ellipticity condition, i.e. there
exists a constant $C=C(F)\ge 1$ (called an {\it ellipticity
constant\/}) such that $$C^{-1}||N||\le F(M+N)-F(M) \le C||N||\;
\leqno(2)$$ for any non-negative definite symmetric matrix $N$; if
$F\in C^1(D)$ then this condition is equivalent to
$${1\over C'}|\xi|^2\le
F_{u_{ij}}\xi_i\xi_j\le C' |\xi |^2\;,\forall\xi\in {\bf
R}^n\;.\leqno(2')$$
Here, $u_{ij}$ denotes the partial derivative
$\pt^2 u/\pt x_i\pt x_j$. A function $u$ is called a {\it
classical\/} solution of (1) if $u\in C^2(\Om)$ and $u$ satisfies
(1). Actually, any classical solution of (1) is a smooth
($C^{\alpha +3}$) solution, provided that $F$ is a smooth
$(C^\alpha )$ function of its arguments.
For a matrix $S \in S^2({\bf R}^n)$ we denote by $\lambda(S)=\{
\lambda_i : \lambda_1\leq...\leq\lambda_n\}
\in {\bf R}^n$ the (ordered) set of eigenvalues of the matrix $S$. Equation
(1) is
called a Hessian equation \linebreak ([T1],[T2] cf. [CNS]) if the function
$F(S)$ depends only
on the eigenvalues $\lambda(S)$ of the matrix $S$, i.e., if
$$F(S)=f(\lambda(S)),$$
for some function $f$ on ${\bf R}^n$ invariant under permutations of
the coordinates.
In other words the equation (1) is called Hessian if it is invariant under
the action of the group
$O(n)$ on $S^2({\bf R}^n)$:
$$\forall O\in O(n),\; F({^t O}\cdot S\cdot O)=F(S) \;.\leqno(3) $$
If we assume that the function $F(S)$ is defined for any symmetric matrix $S$,
i.e., $D=S^2({\bf R}^n)$ the Hessian invariance relation (3) implies the
following:
\medskip
(a) $F$ is a smooth (real-analytic) function of its arguments if and only if $f$ is
a smooth (real-analytic) function.
\medskip
(b) Inequalities (2) are equivalent to the inequalities
$${\mu\over C_0} \leq { f ( \lambda_i+\mu)-f ( \lambda_i) } \leq C_0 \mu,
\; \forall \mu\ge 0,$$
$\forall i=1,...,n$, for some positive constant $C_0$.
\medskip
(c) $F$ is a concave function if and only if $f$ is concave [Ba, CNS].
\medskip
Well known examples of the Hessian equations are Laplace, Monge-Amp\`ere, and Special Lagrangian equations.
\medskip We are interested also in Isaacs equations which are uniformly elliptic but in
general not Hessian.
Bellman and Isaacs equations appear in the theory of controlled diffusion processes. The
both are fully nonlinear uniformly elliptic equations of the form (1). The Bellman equation
is concave in $D^2u \in S^2({\bf R}^n)$ variables. However, Isaacs operators are, in general,
neither concave nor convex. In a simple homogeneous form the Isaacs equation can be written
as follows:
$$F(D^2u)=\sup_b \inf_a L_{ab}u =0, \leqno (4) $$
where $L_{ab}$ is a family of linear uniformly elliptic operators with an ellipticity
constant $C>0$ which depends on two parameters $a,b$.
Consider the Dirichlet problem
$$\cases{F(D^2u)=0 &in $\Om$\cr
u=\vph &on $\pt\Om\;,$\cr}\leqno(5)$$ where $\Omega \subset {\bf
R}^n$ is a bounded domain with smooth boundary $\partial \Omega$
and $\vph$ is a continuous function on $\pt\Om$.
We are interested in the problem of existence and regularity of
solutions to Dirichlet problem (5) for Hessian and Isaacs equations.
Dirichlet problem (5) has always a unique viscosity (weak)
solution for fully nonlinear elliptic equations (not necessarily
Hessian equations). The viscosity solutions satisfy the equation
(1) in a weak sense, and the best known interior regularity
([C,CC], cf. [T3]) for them is $C^{1+\epsilon }$ for some $\epsilon
> 0$. For more details see [CC,CIL]. Until recently it remained
unclear whether non-smooth viscosity solutions exist. In [NV1] we
proved the existence of viscosity solutions to the fully nonlinear
elliptic equations which are not classical in dimension 12.
Moreover, we proved in [NV2], that in 24-dimensional space the
optimal interior regularity of viscosity solutions of fully
nonlinear elliptic equations is no more than $C^{2-\delta }$. Both
papers [NV1,NV2] use the function
$$w={Re (q_1q_2q_3)\over |x|}, $$
where $q_i\in {\bf H},\ i=1,2,3,$ are Hamiltonian quaternions,
$x\in {\bf H}^3={\bf R}^{12}$ which is a viscosity solution in
${\bf R}^{12}$ of a uniformly elliptic equation (1) with a smooth
$F$. The proofs use some remarkable algebraic identities verified by
(the spectrum of the Hessian of)
the function $w.$ One notes also that the example by
Harvey-Lawson-Osserman [LO,HL]
of a Lipshitz non-analytic solution to the associator (minimal surface) equation
strongly resembles our function. Moreover a suitable version of
an octonion analogue [NV3] of $w$ is reminds the associative
calibration and its modifications remind coassociative and Caley
calibrations [HL]. In our opinion these connections deserve a further study.
\medskip
The main goal of this paper is to show that the same function $w$
is a solution to a Hessian equation. Moreover the following
theorem holds
\bigskip
{\bf Theorem 1.1.} {\it For any $\delta , \; 0\leq \delta < 1$ the
function $$w/ |x|^{\delta } $$ is a viscosity solution to a
uniformly elliptic Hessian equation $(1)$ in a unit ball $B\subset
{\bf R}^{12}$.}
\bigskip
Theorem 1.1 shows that the second derivatives of viscosity
solutions of Hessian equations (1) can blow up in an interior
point of the domain and that the optimal interior regularity of
the viscosity solutions of Hessian equations is no more than
$C^{1+\varepsilon}$, thus showing the {\em optimality} of the
result by Caffarelli-Trudinger [C,CC,T3] on the interior
$C^{1,\alpha}$-regularity of viscosity solutions of fully
nonlinear equations. Our construction provides a Lipschitz
functional $F$ in Theorem 1.1. Using a more complicated argument
one can make $F$ smooth; we will return to this question
elsewhere. However, if we drop the invariance condition (3) we get
\bigskip
{\bf Corollary 1.1.} {\it For any $\delta , \; 0\leq \delta < 1$
the function $$w/ |x|^{\delta } $$ is a viscosity solution to a
uniformly elliptic (not necessarily Hessian) equation $(1)$ in
a unit ball $B\subset {\bf R}^{12}$ where $F$ is a $(C^{\infty})$
smooth functional.}
\medskip
We show that the same function is a viscosity solution to
a uniformly elliptic Isaacs equation:
\bigskip
{\bf Theorem 1.2.}
{\it For any $\delta , \; 0\leq \delta < 1$ the function
$$w/ |x|^{\delta } $$ is a viscosity solution to a uniformly elliptic Isaacs equation
$(1.4)$ in a unit ball $B\subset {\bf
R}^{12}$.}
\bigskip
The question on the minimal dimension $n$ for which there exist
nontrivial homogeneous order 2 solutions of (1) remains open. We
notice that from the result of Alexsandrov [A] it follows that any
homogeneous order 2 solution of the equation (1) in ${\bf R}^3$
with a real analytic $F$ should be a quadratic polynomial. For a
smooth and less regular $F$ similar results in the dimension 3
can be found in [HNY].
\medskip
However,we are able reduce this dimension
by one to 11. Moreover the following theorem holds
\bigskip
{\bf Theorem 1.3.} {\it For any hyperplane $H\subset {\bf R}^{12}$
the function $w $ restricted to $H= {\bf R}^{11}$ is a viscosity
solution to a uniformly elliptic Hessian equation $(1)$ in a unit
ball $B\subset {\bf R}^{11}$ where $F$ is a Lipschitz functional.}
\bigskip
If we drop the invariance condition (3) we get
\bigskip
{\bf Corollary 1.2.} {\it For any hyperplane $H\subset {\bf
R}^{12}$ the function $w $ restricted to $H= {\bf R}^{11}$ is a
viscosity solution to a uniformly elliptic (not necessarily
Hessian)equation $(1)$ in a unit ball $B\subset {\bf R}^{11}$
where $F$ is a $(C^{\infty})$ smooth functional.}
\medskip\bigskip
Note, however that our technique here is {\it not} sufficient to
get singular (i.e. with unbounded second derivatives) solution in
eleven dimensions, see Remark 6.2 below.
\bigskip
Ball $B$ in Theorem 1.1 can not be substituted
by the whole space ${\bf R}^{12}$. In fact, for any $0<\alpha <2$
there are no homogeneous order $\alpha $ solutions to the fully
nonlinear elliptic equation (1) defined in ${\bf R}^n\setminus \{
0 \} $, [NY]; the essence of the difference with the local
problem is that in the case of homogeneous solution defined in
${\bf R}^n\setminus \{ 0 \}$ one deals simultaneously with two
singularities of the solution: one at the origin and another at
the infinity. In the local problem the structure of singularities
of solutions is quite different, even in dimension 2, the function
$u=|x|^{\alpha } ,\; 0<\alpha < 1, \; x\in B^o$, where $B^o$ is
a punctured ball in ${\bf R}^n, \; n\geq 2, \; B^o= \{ x\in {\bf
R}^n, 0< |x|<1 \} $, is a solution to the uniformly elliptic
Hessian equation in $ B^o $ (notice that $u$ {\it is not } a
viscosity solution of any elliptic equation on the whole ball
$B$).
We study also the possible singularity of solutions of Hessian equations
defined in a neighborhood of a point. We prove the following general
result:
\bigskip
{\bf Theorem 1.4.} {\it Let $u$ be a viscosity solution of a uniformly elliptic Hessian
equation in a punctured ball $B^o\subset {\bf R}^n$. Assume that $u\in C^0(B)$.
Then $u=v+l+o(|x|^{1+\varepsilon }) $, where
$v$ is a monotone function of the radius, $v(x)=v(|x|)$, $v\in C^{\varepsilon}(B)$,
where $\epsilon >0$ depends on the ellipticity constant of the equation,
and $l$ is a linear
function.}
\bigskip
As an immediate consequence of the theorem we have
\bigskip
{\bf Corollary 1.3.} { \it Let $u$ be a homogeneous order $\alpha ,\; 0<\alpha < 1$
solution of a uniformly elliptic Hessian equation in
a punctured ball $B^o\subset {\bf R}^n$. Then $u=c|x|^{\alpha }$.}
\medskip
The rest of the paper is organized as follows: in Section
2 we give a sufficient condition for validity of Theorem 1.1, we
verify it in Section 3 for $\delta=0$ and then in Section 4 for
any $1>\delta\ge 0$. Section 5 is devoted to a proof of Theorem
1.2, Section 6 proves Theorem 1.3, and Section 7 contains a proof of Theorem 1.4.
\medskip
{\em Acknowledgement.} The authors would like to thank L.
Caffarelli who posed the question leading to the present work.
\medskip
Since the proof of Theorem 1.1 in Sections 3 and 4 is somewhat involved and utilize
computer (MAPLE) computations, we give here an account of its logical structure and
its principal points. First of all, the criterion of ellipticity in Section 2 reduces Theorem 1.1
for $\delta =0$ to the uniform hyperbolicity of $Hess(P)(a)-{^t O }\cdot Hess(P)(b)\cdot O$
for a pair $a\neq b$ of unit vectors and an orthogonal matrix $O$. A classical result by H. Weyl
on the eigenvalues of the diference of two symmetric matrices reduces this to the uniform
hyperbolicity of the difference $\lambda(Hess(P)(a))-\lambda( Hess(P)(b))$.
Recall then [NV1, Section 3] that the characteristic polynomial $CH(P,a)(T)$
of the Hessian $Hess(P)(a)$ of the cubic form $P$ has for $a\in S^{11}_1$ the following form:
$$ CH(P,a)(T)=(T^3-T+2m(a))(T^3-T-2m(a))(T^3-T+2P(a))^2, \; $$ where $m(a)\ge |P(a)|$
which permits to conclude that the structure of the (ordred) spectrum is as follows
$$\mu_1=\mu'_1\ge \lambda_1\ge \lambda_2\ge \lambda_3\ge \mu_2=\mu'_2\ge -\lambda_3\ge-
\lambda_2\ge - \lambda_1\ge \lambda_3\ge\mu_3=\mu'_3$$
where $\mu_1\ge\mu_2\ge\mu_3$ are the roots of $(T^3-T+2P(a))$, and
$\lambda_1\ge \lambda_2\ge \lambda_3\ge \ -\lambda_3\ge-
\lambda_2\ge - \lambda_1$ are those of $(T^3-T+2m(a))(T^3-T-2m(a))$.
The argument of Section 3 is based on the calculation of the (shifted)
characteristic polynomial $CH(w,a)(T-P(a))$ of the full Hessian $Hess(w)(a)$ which is possible
thanks to an action of the group $Sp(1)\times Sp(1)\times Sp(1)$ which does not change
this polynomial. This action permits to bring the matrix $Hess(w)(a)$ to a simple block form and
gives using a MAPLE caluculation an explicit formula for $CH(w,a)(T-P(a))$:
$$CH(w,a)(T-P(a))=P_6(a,T)(T^3-T+2P(a))^2$$
for a certain explicit polynomial $P_6(a,T);$ in fact $P_6(a,T)$ is the (shifted)
characteristic polynomial of $Hess(w_6)(a')$ for a 6-dimensional version of $w$ and an appropriate
6-dimensional unit vector $a'$. The crucial point then is that the spectrum
in this case is not so different from that of $Hess(P)(a)$. In fact, one has for this ordered spectrum:
$$\mu_1=\mu'_1\ge \lambda'_1\ge \lambda'_2\ge \lambda'_3\ge \mu_2=\mu'_2\ge \lambda'_4\ge
\lambda'_5\ge \lambda'_6\ge \lambda_3\ge\mu_3=\mu'_3$$
where $\lambda'_1\ge \lambda'_2\ge \lambda'_3\ge \lambda'_4\ge
\lambda'_5\ge \lambda'_6$ are the roots of $P_6(a,T)$. To prove this inequalities one verifies
it for specific points $a$ and then explicitly calculates (using MAPLE)
the resultant which (miraculously) vanishes nowhere and thus gives the necessary inequalities.
This garanties the exact formula for the equal 6th and 7th eigenvalues which permits to get
the necessary uniform hyperbolicity of the difference $\lambda(Hess(P)(a))-\lambda( Hess(P)(b))$.
In Section 4 we generalize this agument to any $\delta\in ]0,1[$. In this situation we need
the uniform hyperbolicity of $Hess(P)(a)-K{^t O }\cdot Hess(P)(b)\cdot O$
for a pair $a\neq b$ of unit vectors, any orthogonal matrix $O$ and any positive constant $K$,
which follows from that of $\lambda(Hess(P)(a))-K\lambda( Hess(P)(b))$. We begin with
the uniform hyperbolicity of the difference $(\mu_1(a),\mu_2(a),\mu_3(a))-K(\mu_1(b),\mu_2(b),\mu_3(b))$
which is rather elementary since there are simple trigonometric formulas for $\mu_i$. Unfortunately,
the position of $\mu_2$ in the ordered spectrum of $Hess(P)(a)$ is not fixed anymore, which
follows from an explicit calculation of $CH(w_{\delta},a)(T-(1+\delta)P(a))$ together with some
resutant calculations similar (but more involved) to those in Section 3. However, the position
of the double value $\mu_2=\mu'_2$ varies from (5,6) to (7,8) and an argument using the oddness
of $w_{\delta}$ permits to deduce the uniform hyperbolicity of
$\lambda(Hess(P)(a))-K\lambda( Hess(P)(b))$ from that of
$(\mu_1(a),\mu_2(a),\mu_3(a))-K(\mu_1(b),\mu_2(b),\mu_3(b))$ which finishes the proof
of Theorem 1.1.
\section{Ellipticity }
\bigskip
Let $w$ be a homogeneous function
of order $2-\delta ,\ 0\leq \delta <1 $, defined on a unit ball
$B =B_1\subset {\bf R}^n$ and smooth in $B \setminus\{0\}$. Then
the Hessian of $w$ is homogeneous of order $(-\delta)$. Define the
map
$$\Lambda :B \longrightarrow \lambda (D^2w) \in {\bf R}^n\; .$$
Let $K\subset {\bf R}^n$ be an open convex cone, such that
$$ \{ x\in {\bf R}^n : x_i\geq 0,\ i=1,...,
n\} \subset K .$$
Set
$$L:={\bf R}^n\setminus (K\cup -K).$$
We say that a set $E\subset {\bf R}^n$ satisfy $K$-cone condition if
$\; (a-b)\in L$
for any $ a,b\in E.$
Let $S_n$ be the group of permutations of $\{ 1,...,n\}$. For
any $\sigma \in S_n$, we denote by $T_{\sigma}$ the linear
transformation of ${\bf R}^n$ given by
$x_i \mapsto x_{\sigma(i)}, \; i=1,...,n.$
\bigskip\noindent {\bf Lemma 2.1.} {\it Assume that
$$M:=\bigcup_{\sigma \in S_{n} }\ T_{\sigma }\Lambda (B)\subset {\bf R}^n $$
satisfies the $K$-cone condition. If $\delta> 0$
we assume additionally that $w$ changes sign in $B$. Then $w$ is a
viscosity solution in $B$ of a uniformly elliptic Hessian equation
$(1)$.}
\bigskip\noindent
{\em Proof }. Let us choose in the space ${\bf R}^n$ an
orthogonal coordinate system $z_1,\dots,z_{n-1},s,$ such that
$s=x_1+...+x_n$ . Let $\pi : {\bf R}^n\to Z$ be the orthogonal
projection of ${\bf R}^n$ onto the $z$-space. Let $K^\ast$ denote
the adjoint cone of $K$, that is, $K^\ast = \{b\in {\bf R}^n:
b\cdot c \ge 0 \ for\ all\ c \in K\} $. Notice that $a \in L $
implies $a\cdot b =0$ for some $b \in K^\ast$. We represent the
boundary of the cone $K$ as the graph of a Lipschitz function
$s=e(z)$, with $e(0)=0$, function $e$ is smooth outside the
origin:
$$e(z)\ =\inf\{ c:\ (z+cs)\in K \} .$$
Set $m=\pi \bigl (M )$. We prove that $M$ is a graph of a
Lipschitz function on $m$,
$$M =\{z\in m:s=g(z)\}\;.$$
Let $a,\hat a \in M , a =(z,s),\hat a = (\hat z,\hat s)$. Since
$a-\hat a \in L$, we have $$-e(z-\hat z) \le \hat s - s \le e(z-
\hat z).$$ Since $e(0)=0, g(z):=s$ is single-valued. Also
$$|g(z)-g(\hat z)|=|s-\hat s|\le |e(z-\hat z)|\le C|z-\hat z|.$$
The function $g$ has an extension $\widetilde{g}$ from the set
$m$ to ${\bf R}^{n-1}$ such that $\widetilde{g}$ is a
Lipschitz function and the graph of $\widetilde{g}$ satisfies the
$K$-cone condition. One can define such extension $\widetilde{g}$
simply by the formula
$$\widetilde{g}(z):=\inf_{w\in m } \bigl\{ g(w)\ + e(z-w)
\bigr\}\;.$$
To show that this formula works let $(z, \tilde g(z)), (\hat
z,\tilde g(\hat z))$ lie in the graph $\tilde g$. We must show
$$-e(z-\hat z)\ \le \ \tilde g(z)-\tilde g(\hat z)\ \le e(z-\hat z).$$
Now
$$\tilde g(\hat z)\ =\ g(w)+e(\hat z-w)$$
for some $w\in m$. Thus
$$\tilde g(z)-\tilde g(\hat z)\ \le \ g(w)+e(z-w)-(g(w)+e(\hat z-w))\ \le \
e(z-\hat z),$$ since $e(a+b)\ \le \ e(a)+e(b)$, as $e(\cdot )$ is
convex, homogenous. Similarly
$$\tilde g(z)-\tilde g(\hat z) \ge -e(z-\hat z).$$
\medskip
Let us set
$$
f':= s - \widetilde{g}(z).
$$
Since the level surface of the function $ f'$ satisfies $K$-cone
condition it follows that $\nabla f \in K^*$ a. e. where $K^*$ is the
adjoint cone to $K$.
Moreover the function $w$ satisfies the equation
$$
f'(\lambda (D^2 w))= 0.
$$
on $B \setminus \{0\}$.
Set
$$f=\sum_{\sigma \in {S_n}} f'(\sigma (x)).$$
Then $f$ is a Lipschitz function invariant under the action of
the group $S_n$ and satisfies the equation
$$
f(\lambda (D^2 w))= 0.
$$
on $B \setminus \{0\}$.
\medskip
We show now that $w$ is a viscosity solution of (1) on the whole
ball $B$.
Assume first that $\delta =0$. Let $p(x),\ x\in B$ be a quadratic
form such that $p\leq w$ on $B$. We choose any quadratic form
$p'(x)$ such that $p\leq p'\leq w$ and there is a point $x'\neq 0$
at which $p'(x')= w(x')$. Then it follows that $F(p)\leq F(p')\leq
0$. Consequently for any quadratic form $p(x)$ from the inequality
$p\leq w$ ($p\geq w$) it follows that $F(p)\leq 0$ ($F(p)\geq 0$).
This implies that $w$ is a viscosity solution of (1) in $B$ (see
Proposition 2.4 in [CC]).
If $0< \delta < 1$ then for any smooth function $p$ in $B$ the
function $w-p$ changes sign in any neighborhood of $0$. Hence, by
the same proposition in [CC], it follows that $w$ is a viscosity
solution of (1) in $B$.
\bigskip
\section{Non-classical solution}
This section is devoted to a proof of Theorem 1.1 in the case of
$\delta=0$ i.e. for a non-classical, but not singular, solution.
We define the cubic form $P$ which is used to construct our
non-classical and singular solutions. Let $ X=(r,s,t)\in {\bf
R}^{12}$ be a variable vector with $r,s,$ and $t\in {\bf R}^4.$
For any $ t=(t_0,t_1,t_2,t_3)\in {\bf R}^4$ we denote by $
qt=t_0+t_1\cdot i+t_2\cdot j+t_3\cdot k\in {\bf H} $ (Hamilton
quaternions).
Define the cubic form $P=P(X)=P(r,s,t) $ as follows
$$P(r,s,t)=Re(qr\cdot qs\cdot qt)=r_0s_0t_0-r_0s_1t_1-r_0s_2t_2-r_0s_3t_3$$
$$-r_1s_0t_1- r_1s_1t_0-r_1s_2t_3+r_1s_3t_2-r_2s_0t_2+r_2s_1t_3-r_2s_2t_0-r_2s_3t_1 $$
$$ -r_3s_0t_3- r_3s_1t_2+r_3s_2t_1-r_3s_3t_0;$$
and denote
$$ w(X)=P(X)/ |X| . $$
Note that by definition one has $ | P(X)|\le {|X|^3\over 3 \sqrt
3} ,$ since $$ |P(r,s,t)|\le |r|\cdot| s|\cdot |t|\le {\left({
r^2+ s^2+ t^2\over 3}\right)}^{3/2}.$$ In particular for $X\in
S_1^{11} $ one has
$ |P(X)|= |w(X)|\le {1\over 3 \sqrt
3} .\;$
For $a\in {\bf R}^{12}-\{0\} $ we denote by $H(a)$ the Hessian $D^2 w(a).$
\bigskip
{\bf Proposition 3.1.} {\em Let $a\neq b\in S_1^{11} $ and
let $O\in {\hbox {O}}({12} )$ be an orthogonal matrix s.t.
$H(a,b,O):=H(a)- {^tO}\cdot H(b)\cdot O\neq 0$.
Denote $ \Lambda_1\ge\Lambda_2\ge
\ldots\ge\Lambda_{12}$ the eigenvalues of the matrix
$H(a,b,O).$
Then}
$${1\over 26} \le {\Lambda_1\over -\Lambda_{12}}\le 26.$$
\bigskip
We need the following property of the eigenvalues $ \lambda_1\ge\lambda_2\ge
\ldots\ge\lambda_{n}$ of real symmetric matrices of order $n$:
\medskip
{\bf Property 3.1.} {\em Let $ A,B$ be two real symmetric
matrices with the eigenvalues $
\lambda_1\ge\lambda_2\ge\ldots\ge\lambda_{n} $ and $
\lambda'_1\ge\lambda'_2\ge\ldots\ge\lambda'_{n} $ respectively.
Then for the eigenvalues $
\Lambda_1\ge\Lambda_2\ge\ldots\ge\Lambda_{n} $ of the matrix $A+B$
we have
$$ \Lambda_1\ge\lambda_i+\lambda'_j, \;\;\Lambda_n\le\lambda_i+\lambda'_j$$
whenever} $i+j=n .$
\medskip
This is a classical result by Hermann Weyl [We], cf. [Fu], p.
211.
We will use this result in the form which follows (replace $B$
by $-B$ in Property 3.1):
\bigskip
{\em Let $ A,B$ be two real symmetric matrices
with the eigenvalues $
\lambda_1\ge\lambda_2\ge\ldots\ge\lambda_{n} $ and $
\lambda'_1\ge\lambda'_2\ge\ldots\ge\lambda'_{n} $ respectively.
Then for the eigenvalues $
\Lambda_1\ge\Lambda_2\ge\ldots\ge\Lambda_{n} $ of the matrix $A-B$
we have}
$$ \Lambda_1\ge\max_{i=1,\cdots, n}(\lambda_i-\lambda'_i),
\;\;\Lambda_n\le\min_{i=1,\cdots, n}(\lambda_i-\lambda'_i).$$
\bigskip
{\bf Main Lemma 3.1. } {\em Let $ A:=H(a),$
$B:={^tO}\cdot H(b)\cdot O.$
$(i)$ If $P(a)-P(b)\ge 0 $ then }${\hbox
{Tr}}(B-A)=15(P(a)-P(b))\le 15\Lambda_1; $
$(ii)$ {\em If $P(a)-P(b)\le 0 $ then} ${\hbox
{Tr}}(B-A)=15(P(a)-P(b))\ge 15\Lambda_{12}. $
\bigskip
{\em Proof of Proposition 3.1.} We consider only the case
${\hbox {Tr}}(A-B)=15(P(b)-P(a))\ge 0$, the proof in the other
case being symmetric. Since ${\hbox {Tr}}(A-B)=
\Lambda_1+\Lambda_2+\ldots+\Lambda_{12}\ge 0$ one gets
$11\Lambda_1\ge -\Lambda_{12}.$ On the other hand,
$$-15\Lambda_{12}\ge {\hbox {Tr}}(A-B)=
\Lambda_1+\Lambda_2 +\ldots+\Lambda_{12}$$ implies
$$-26\Lambda_{12}\ge
-15\Lambda_1-\Lambda_2-\Lambda_3-\ldots-\Lambda_{12}\ge
\Lambda_{1}$$
which finishes the proof.
\medskip
To prove Main Lemma we need two lemmas which constitute our
principal technical tool. We postpone their proof until the end of
the section.
\medskip
{\bf Lemma 3.2. } {\em Let $a=(r,s,t)\in S_1^{11};$ define
$$
W=W(a)=P(a),\; m=m(a) = |s| ,\; n=n(a)= |t| .$$
Then the characteristic polynomial of the
matrix $ A:=H(a)$ is given by
$$ P_A(T)=P_1(T)^2\cdot P_2(T)$$
where
$$P_1(T)=T^3+3WT^2+3W^2T-T+W+W^3,$$
$$P_2(T)=T^6+9WT^5+(21W^2+3L-2)T^4+2W(7W^2+3L-4)T^3+
$$
$$(1-6W^2-9W^4
-3L+9M)T^2-(15W^4+6W^2L-4W^2-6L+1)WT$$
$$-
5W^6-3LW^4+4W^4-3(3M+L)W^2+W^2-M$$ with}
$L:=L(m,n)=m^2+n^2-n^2m^2-n^4-m^4\in [M,{1\over 3}] ,$
$M:=M(m,n)=m^2n^2(1-n^2-m^2)\in [W^2,{1\over 27}] .$
\bigskip
{\bf Lemma 3.3.} {\em Let $a=(r,s,t)\in S_1^{11}, \;\; A=H(a) .$
Let $\mu_1\ge \mu_2\ge\mu_3 $ be the roots of $P_1(T)$, $\nu_1\ge
\nu_2\ge\ldots\ge \nu_6$ be the roots of $P_2(T)$. Then}
$$\mu_1\ge\nu_1\ge \nu_2\ge\nu_3\ge\mu_2\ge\nu_4\ge\nu_5\ge\nu_6\ge\mu_3.$$
\medskip
{\bf Corollary 3.1.} {\em Let $a=(r,s,t)\in S_1^{11}
.$ Let $\lambda_1\ge
\lambda_2\ge\ldots\ge\lambda_{12} $ be the eigenvalues of
$A=H(a)$. Then}
$$\lambda_6=\lambda_7=
{2\over \sqrt 3}\cos\left({\arccos(3\sqrt 3 P(a))+\pi\over 3
}\right)-P(a).$$
{\em Proof of Corollary.} By Lemmas 3.1 and 3.2
$\lambda_6=\lambda_7=\mu_2.$ One easily verifies that
$Q_1(X):=P_1(X-W)=X^3 -X+2W.$ If we set $X=2\cos(\beta)/\sqrt 3,\; 3\sqrt 3
W=\cos(\alpha)$ we get $\cos(3\beta)=\cos(\alpha) $ which implies $$\mu_1=
{2\over \sqrt 3}\cos\left({\arccos(3\sqrt 3 W)-\pi\over 3
}\right)-W, \mu_2={2\over \sqrt 3}
\cos\left({\arccos(3\sqrt 3 W)+\pi\over 3 }\right)-W,$$ $$\;\mu_3=
{2\over \sqrt 3}\cos\left({\arccos(3\sqrt 3 W)+3\pi\over 3
}\right)-W. $$
\medskip
{\em Proof of Main Lemma 3.1.} Let
$W=P(a),$ $W'=P(b)$ and $W-W'\ge 0 .$ By Property 3.1.
$$\Lambda_1\ge\lambda_6(A)-\lambda_6(B)={2\over \sqrt 3}\left(
\cos\left({\arccos(3\sqrt 3 W)+\pi\over 3 }\right)-
\cos\left({\arccos(3\sqrt 3 W')+\pi\over 3 }\right)\right)-W
+W'.$$ Since
$ { \cos\left({\arccos(3\sqrt 3 W)+\pi\over 3
}\right) }\ge { \sqrt 3 |W|} $ and $ { \cos\left( {\arccos(3\sqrt
3 W')+\pi\over 3 }\right) }\ge { \sqrt 3|W'|}$ we get the
conclusion. The case $P(a)-P(b)\le 0 $ is symmetric.
\bigskip
{\em Proof of Lemma 3.2.} Note that the function $w$ is invariant
under the action of the group ${\hbox {Sp}}_{1}
\times{\hbox {Sp}}_{1} \times{\hbox {Sp}}_{1} $ by conjugation
on each factor, i.e.
$$ (g_1,g_2,g_3): (r,s,t) \mapsto (g_1rg_1^{-1},g_2sg_2^{-1},g_3tg_3^{-1}) $$
for $g_1,g_2,g_3\in {\hbox {Sp}}_{1}=\{q\in {\bf H} : \;
|q|=1\},$ and hence the spectrum $Sp(H(a)) $ is
invariant under this action as well.
Applying this action one can suppose that $r_2=r_3=s_2=s_3=t_2=t_3=0,
$ i.e. that $(r,s,t)\in {\bf C}^3\subset {\bf H}^3.$ In this case
the matrix $A=H(a)$ becomes a block matrix
$$A=
\left
\begin{array}{cc}
A_6&0 \\
0&M_6 \\
\end{array
\right)$$ where $A_6=D^2w_6(a')$ is the Hessian of the function
$$
w_6(a')={P_6(a')\over |a'|}={Re(cr\cdot cs\cdot ct)\over |a'|}={r_0s_0t_0-r_0s_1t_1-r_1s_0t_1-r_1s_1t_0\over\sqrt{r_0^2+s_0^2+t_0^2+r_1^2+s_1^2+t_1^2}},
$$
$a'=(cr, cs,ct)=(r_0+r_1 i,s_0+s_1 i,t_0+t_1 i)\in {\bf C}^3,$ and $M_6$ is
the following matrix:
$$M_6=
\left
\begin{array}{cccccc}
-W&0&-t_0&-t_1& -s_0& s_1 \\
0& -W& t_1& -t_0& -s_1&-s_0 \\
-t_0& t_1& -W& 0& -r_0& -r_1 \\
-t_1& -t_0& 0& -W& r_1& -r_0\\
-s_0&-s_1& -r_0& r_1& -W& 0\\
s_1& -s_0& -r_1& -r_0& 0& -W\\
\end{array
\right).$$ A direct calculation shows that the characteristic
polynomial of $$N_6=M_6+W\cdot I_{6}=
\left
\begin{array}{cccccc}
0&0&-t_0&-t_1& -s_0& s_1 \\
0& 0& t_1& -t_0& -s_1&-s_0 \\
-t_0& t_1& 0& 0& -r_0& -r_1 \\
-t_1& -t_0& 0& 0& r_1& -r_0\\
-s_0&-s_1& -r_0& r_1& 0& 0\\
s_1& -s_0& -r_1& -r_0& 0& 0\\
\end{array
\right).$$ is given by $$ P_{N_6}(X)= (X^3 -X+2W)^2$$ (one uses
that $ |a| ^2= {|a'|} ^2= |r| ^2+ |s| ^2+ |t| ^2=1$) which gives
the formula for the first factor. To caculate the characteristic
polynomial of $A_6$ one notes an action of the group
$$T^2=S^1\times S^1=\{ (u_1, u_2,u_3)\in {\bf C}^3\;: u_1=
u_2 = u_3 =1, u_1 u_2u_3=1\}$$ on ${\bf C}^3$
respecting $w_6 $:
$$ (u_1,u_2,u_3): (r,s,t) \mapsto (u_1r,u_2s,u_3t) .$$
This action permits to suppose that $s_1=t_1=0$, $ s',t'\in {\bf
R}^+$ and thus $s'=s_0=m,t'=t_0=n,\; W= P(r,s,t)=r_0 m n $.
Applying MAPLE one gets the characteristic
polynomial $ P_2(T)$.
One notes also that in
this case a direct calculation gives for $A_6=(N_{ij})$:
$$
N_{11}=(3r_0^2-3)W,\; N_{12}=(3Wr_0-mt_0)r_1,\; N_{13}=n(1-r_0^2-m^2)+3Wr_0m
,\; N_{14}= r_0 n r_1,\; $$
$$N_{15}=m(1-r_0^2-n^2)+3r_0nW,\; N_{16}= r_0 m r_1,
\; N_{21}=(3Wr_0-m n)r_1,\; N_{22}=3W(r_1^2-1),\;$$
$$ N_{23}= (3Ws_0-m n)r_1,
\; N_{24}=n(r_1^2-1),\; N_{25}=(3Wn r_0 m)r_1,\;
N_{26}=m(r_1^2-1),
$$
$$ N_{31}= (1-r_0^2-m^2)n+3r_0mW,\; N_{32}=(3mW-r_0n)r_1,\;
N_{33}=(3m^2-3)W,\; N_{34}=
m nr_1, $$
$$ N_{35}=(1-m^2-n^2)r_0+3mt_0W,\; N_{36}= (m^2-1)r_1,
\; N_{41}= r_0 n r_1,\; N_{42}= (r_1^2-1)n,\;N_{43} =m n r_1, $$
$$ N_{44}=-W,\; N_{45}=(n^2-1)r_1,\; N_{46}= -r_0,
\; N_{51}=(1-r_0^2-n^2)m+3r_0nW ,\;N_{52}= (3n W-m r_0)r_1,$$
$$ N_{53}=
(1-m^2-n^2)r_0+3m n W,\; N_{54}= (n^2-1)r_1,\; N_{55}=
(3n^2-3)W,\; N_{56}= m nr_1,$$
$$N_{61}=m r_0 r_1, \;
N_{62}= (r_1^2-1)m, \; N_{63}= (m^2-1)r_1,
\; N_{64}= -r_0, \; N_{65}= m n r_1, \; N_{66}= -W $$
which permits a human (albeit very tedious) calculation of the polynomial.
\smallskip
Note that the caracteristic polynomial
$Q_2(X)=P_2(X-W)$ of $A_6+W\cdot I_6 $ equals
$$Q_2(X)=X^6+3WX^5-(9W^2-3L+2)X^4
-6WLX^3+
(6W^2 -3L +9M+1)X^2$$ $$-3(6M-4L+1)WX+
3W^2-12LW^2-M.$$
In fact, one can directly apply the MAPLE directive $$P2:=sort(factor(simplify(charpoly(hessian(w_6,v),S))),S);$$
for the coordinate vector $v$, but in this case the calculation takes about a minute, 100 MB of space
(and the result need many dozens lines to be written), while the same directive
applied to the case with two zero coordinates gives the result in less than a second.
\medskip
{\em Remark 3.1.} Since $ |a| ^2= {|a'|} ^2= |r| ^2+ |s| ^2+ |t|
^2= r_0 ^2+r_1 ^2+m ^2+n ^2 =1$ one gets $r_0 ^2+m ^2+n ^2 \le 1$
and an application
$$ \Phi: S^{11}_1\longrightarrow \bar B^{3}_{++}, \;\; a=(r,s,t)\mapsto
\Phi(a):=(r_0,m,n)=({W\over mn},m,n) $$
where $\bar B^{3}_{++}=\bar B^{3}_1 \bigcap \{m\ge 0,n\ge 0\}.$
\bigskip
{\em Proof of Lemma 3.3.} Let $\mu'_i=\mu_i+W$, $\nu'_j=\nu_i+W$
for $i=1,2,3,\;j=1,\ldots,6;$ be the roots of $Q_1(X) $ and
$Q_2(X)$, respectively. We have to show that
$$\mu'_1\ge\nu'_1\ge \nu'_2\ge\nu'_3\ge\mu'_2\ge\nu'_4\ge\nu'_5\ge\nu'_6\ge\mu'_3.$$
One notes that $\mu'_i(W)=\mu'_i(-W)$, $\nu'_i(W)=\nu'_i(-W)$.
Therefore we can suppose w.r.g. that $W\ge 0$. For $n=0 $ we have
$ W=mnr_0=0$ and
$$Q_2(X)=
X^6 - 2 X^4 + 3 m X^4 - 3 m X^4 + X^2 - 3 m X^2 + 3 m
X^2=$$ $$X^2 (X - 1) (X + 1) (X^2 - 3 m^4 - 1 + 3 m^2 )
$$ $$ X^3-X-2W=X^3-X=X (X - 1) (X + 1).$$
Thus $\mu'_1=\nu'_1=1$, $\nu'_2=\sqrt{ 1 - 3 m^2+ 3 m^4 } \in
(0, 1]$, $\nu'_3=\nu'_4=\mu'_2=0$, $\nu'_5=-\sqrt{ 1 - 3 m^2+ 3
m^4 } \in [-1, 0)$, $\mu'_3=-1,$ and the inequalities take place.
Symmetrically this is true for $m=0$ as well. We can suppose thus
that $m\neq 0,\;n\neq 0. $
We suppose then that $ r_0^2+m^2+n^2 \neq 1;$ without loss one
supposes also $(m,n,r_0 )\in B_1^3\bigcap {\bf R}_+^3 .$ We begin
with a particular choice: $m=n=r_0=1/2,\; W=1/8. $ For that choice
easy brute force calculations show that $ \mu'_1\in [0.83, 0.84]$,
$ \mu'_2\in [0.26, 0.27]$, $ \mu'_3\in [-1.11,-1.1]$,
$\nu'_1\in[0.7,0.71]$, $\nu'_2\in[0.54,0.55]$,
$\nu'_3\in[0.42,0.43]$,$\nu'_4\in[-0.39,-0.38]$,
$\nu'_5\in[-0.71,0.7]$, $\nu'_6\in[-0.96,0.95]$ and the
inequalities hold. Then we consider the resultant $R=R(m,n,r_0)$
of the polynomials $Q_2(X)$ and $X^3-X+2W; $ a brute force (MAPLE)
calculations give
$$R=16(-n^2m^2+W^2+n^2m^4+n^4m^2)^3(27W^2+4)(1-27W^2)= $$
$$
16n^2m^2(-1+r_0^2+m^2+n^2)^3(27W^2+4)(1-27W^2)< 0$$ since the
condition $ W^2 =1/27$ implies $ r_0^2+m^2+n^2=1.$ For any
$(m,n,r_0 )\in B_1^3\bigcap {\bf R}_+^3 $ there is a line segment
joining it to the triple $(1/2,1/2,1/2 )$, the set $ B_1^3\bigcap
{\bf R }_+^3 $ being convex. The value of $R(m,n,r_0)$ on the
whole segment is strictly negative and thus the order of the roots
at $( m, n, r_0 )$ is the same as at $(1/2,1/2,1/2 )$ which
finishes the proof of the inequalities for $ r_0^2+m^2+n^2 \neq
1$. Let finally $m^2+n^2+r_0^2=1.$ Then easy
brute force calculations show that
$$Q_2(X)=(X^3-X+2W)(X^3+3WX^2-9W^2X-X+3LX +W-6WL).$$
Thus by continuity we get
$\lambda_1=\lambda_2=\lambda_3=\mu_1,
\;\lambda_{6}=\lambda_{7}=\mu_2,
\lambda_{10}=\lambda_{11}=\lambda_{12}=\mu_3 $ which is sufficient
to conclude.
\bigskip
{\em Remark 3.2.} We use extensively MAPLE calculations in
Sections 3 and 4. These calculations concern algebraic identities,
do not use any approximation and are thus completely rigorous.
Besides, all of them need only few seconds on a modest laptop.
\bigskip
Proposition 3.1 and Lemma 2.1 give a proof of Theorem 1.1 in the case of
$ \delta=0\; .$ Indeed, we set $K$ to be the dual cone $ K:=K_\lambda^{\ast}$ where
$$ K_\lambda=
\{( \lambda_1,... ,\lambda_{n})\in [C/\lambda, C\lambda]: {\hbox{ for some}}\; C>0 \;\}
$$ with $ n=12, \; \lambda=26.$ Then Proposition 3.1 gives the $K-$cone condition in
Lemma 2.1 on $T_{\sigma_0 }\Lambda (B)$ for ${\sigma_0=id \in S_{12} }$
which implies the same condition on the whole
$M=\bigcup_{\sigma \in S_{n} }\ T_{\sigma }\Lambda (B) $ as well.
\bigskip
{\em Remark 3.3.} The ellipticity constant $C$ of thus obtained
functional $F$ verifies
$C\le 4\cdot 26^2\sqrt{12}<10^5 $ (cf. [NV1, Lemma 2.2]).
\section{Singular solutions}
In this section we prove Theorem 1.1 for any $ \delta\in [0,1)\;
.$ For this it is sufficient to show by Lemma 2.1 that the
ellipticity condition (the $K-$cone condition) valid for the
function $w$ remains to hold for the function $w_{\delta}(X):=w(X)
|X| ^{-\delta}.$
For $a\in {\bf R}^{12}-\{0\} $ we denote
by $H_{\delta}(a)$ the Hessian $D^2w_{\delta}(a).$ The following
result is sufficient to prove Theorem 1.1:
\bigskip
{\bf Proposition 4.1.}
{\em Let $0\le {\delta}<1. $ Then for any
$a\neq b\in {\bf R}^{12}-\{0\} $ and any
orthogonal matrix $O\in O{(12)} $ with
$H_{\delta}(a,b,O):=H_{\delta}(a)- {^tO}\cdot H_{\delta}(b)\cdot O\neq
0$ the eigenvalues
$ \Lambda_1\ge\Lambda_2\ge
\ldots\ge\Lambda_{12}$ of
$H_{\delta}(a,b,O)$
verify}
$${ 1 \over C_{\delta}}={ 1-\delta \over 26+3\delta-\delta^2} \le {\Lambda_1\over -\Lambda_{12}}
\le { 26+3\delta-\delta^2 \over 1-\delta}=:C_{\delta}\; .$$
\bigskip
{\em Proof.} We can suppose without loss that $ |a| \le |b|$,
moreover, by homogeneity we can suppose that $a\in S_1^{11}$ and
thus $ |b| \ge 1.$ Let $\bar b:={b/|b|}\in S_1^{11}$ then
$D^2w_{\delta}(b)=D^2w_{\delta}(\bar b)|b|^{-\delta} .$ One needs
then the following result for the points $a,\bar b \in S_1^{11}:$
\bigskip
{\bf Lemma 4.1. }{\em Let $\delta\in[0,1),$
$a, \bar b\in S_1^{11},\; W=W(a),\;\bar W=W(\bar b),\; $ and let
$$\mu_1(\delta)=
{2\over \sqrt
3}\cos\left({\arccos(3\sqrt 3 W)+\pi\over 3 }\right)
-W(1+\delta)\ge$$ $$\mu_2(\delta)=
{2\over \sqrt
3}\cos\left({\arccos(3\sqrt 3 W)-\pi\over 3 }\right)
-W(1+\delta)\ge$$ $$
\mu_3(\delta)=
-{2\over \sqrt
3}\cos\left({\arccos(3\sqrt 3 W) \over 3}\right) -W(1+\delta)
$$ $($resp.,
$\bar\mu_1(\delta)\ge\bar\mu_2(\delta)\ge\bar\mu_3(\delta)\;)$
be the roots of the polynomial
$$P_{1,\delta}(T,W):=Q_1(T+W+\delta W)=$$
$$T^3+3W(1+\delta)T^2+(3W^2(1+\delta)^2-1)T+W(1-\delta)+W^3(1+\delta)^3$$
$($resp. of the polynomial
$$ \bar P_{1,\delta}(T,\bar W):=Q_1(T+\bar
W+\delta\bar W)=$$
$$T^3+3\bar W(1+\delta)T^2+(3 \bar W^2(1+\delta)^2-1)T+\bar W(1-\delta)+\bar
W^3(1+\delta)^3\; ).$$ Then for any $K>0$ verifying
$ |K-1|+|\bar W-W|\neq 0$ one has
$${1-\delta\over 5+\delta}=:\varepsilon\le { \mu_+(K)\over -\mu_-(K)}\le
{1\over\varepsilon}= {5+\delta\over 1-\delta}$$
where
$$\mu_-(K):= \min\{\mu_1(\delta)-K\bar\mu_1(\delta),\;
\mu_2(\delta)-K\bar\mu_2(\delta),\;
\mu_3(\delta)-K\bar\mu_3(\delta)\} ,$$
$$\mu_+(K):= \max\{\mu_1(\delta)-K\bar\mu_1(\delta),\;
\mu_2(\delta)-K\bar\mu_2(\delta),\;
\mu_3(\delta)-K\bar\mu_3(\delta)\}\;. $$ }
{\em Proof of Lemma 4.1.} In the proof we will repeatedly use the
following elementary fact:
\medskip
{\em Claim. Let $ l_1\ge l_2 \ge l_3,$ $ l_1+ l_2+ l_3=t\ge 0,$ $
l_3\le -ht,$ with $h>0.$ Then $-l_1/l_3\in [h/(2h+1),(2h+1)/h] $
for $t>0$, $-l_1/l_3\in [1/2,2]$ for $t=0$.}
\medskip
If $W= \bar W , K=1$ there is nothing to prove. If
$K=1$ one can suppose that $W>\bar W; $ we have
$$(\mu_1(\delta)-K\bar\mu_1(\delta))+
(\mu_2(\delta)-K\bar\mu_2(\delta))+
(\mu_3(\delta)-K\bar\mu_3(\delta))=3(\bar W -W)(1+\delta)$$ and
$$ \mu_2(\delta)-K\bar\mu_2(\delta)=
{2\over \sqrt 3}\left(\cos\left({\arccos(3\sqrt 3 W)+ \pi\over 3 }\right )-
\cos\left({\arccos(3\sqrt 3 \bar W)+\pi\over 3 }\right)\right)$$
$$-( W -\bar W)(1+\delta)\ge (1-\delta)( W-\bar W).$$
Therefore, one can take $\varepsilon=(1-\delta)/(5+\delta) $
in this case.
We can suppose then $W>\bar W, K\neq 1. $ Using the
relations $$\mu_1(\delta)(-W)=-\mu_3(\delta)(W),\;
\mu_2(\delta)(-W)=-\mu_2(\delta)(W),\;
\mu_3(\delta)(-W)=-\mu_1(\delta)(W)$$ we can suppose without loss
that $K<1.$
We distinguish then three cases corresponding to different signs
of $W-K \bar W.$ If $W-K \bar W=0$ then one can take
$\varepsilon=1/2$ since
$$(\mu_1(\delta)-K\bar\mu_1(\delta))+
(\mu_2(\delta)-K\bar\mu_2(\delta))+
(\mu_3(\delta)-K\bar\mu_3(\delta))=0.$$
Let $W-K \bar W=W-\bar W+(1-K)\bar W<0.$ Then
$$(\mu_1(\delta)-K\bar\mu_1(\delta))+
(\mu_2(\delta)-K\bar\mu_2(\delta))+
(\mu_3(\delta)-K\bar\mu_3(\delta))=-3(W-K \bar W)(1+\delta)>0$$
and
$$
\mu_3(\delta)-K\bar\mu_3(\delta)= \mu_3(\delta)-\bar\mu_3(\delta)
+(1-K)\bar\mu_3(\delta)=\mu'_3(\delta)(W')(W-\bar W)+(1-K)\bar\mu_3(\delta) $$
for $W'\in (W, \bar W).$ Since
$$\bar\mu_3(\delta)\le {\delta -2\over 3\sqrt 3} < {-1\over 3 \sqrt 3}
\le -\bar W,\;\;\mu'_3(\delta)(W')\le -5/3-\delta\le -5/3 <-1$$
we get
$$\mu_3(\delta)-K\bar\mu_3(\delta)< -(W-\bar W+(1-K)\bar W)=
-(W-K\bar W)$$ and one can take
$\varepsilon=(2+(3+3\delta))^{-1}=1/(5+3\delta)\ge
(1-\delta)/(5+\delta) $.
Let then $W-K \bar W=W-\bar W+(1-K)\bar W>0.$ We get
$$(\mu_1(\delta)-K\bar\mu_1(\delta))+
(\mu_2(\delta)-K\bar\mu_2(\delta))+
(\mu_3(\delta)-K\bar\mu_3(\delta))=-3(W-K \bar W)<0.$$ If $\bar
W\ge 0 $ then
$$\mu_2(\delta)-K\bar\mu_2(\delta)= \mu_2(\delta)-\bar\mu_2(\delta)
+(1-K)\bar\mu_2(\delta)=\mu'_2(\delta)(W')(W-\bar W)+(1-K)
\bar\mu_2(\delta)\ge $$ $$(1-\delta)(W-\bar W) +
(1-K)(1-\delta)\bar W\ge (1-\delta)(W-K\bar W)$$
which gives again $\varepsilon=(1-\delta)/(5+\delta).$
Let $\bar W< 0,\; W\ge 0. $ Then
$$\mu_2(\delta)-K\bar\mu_2(\delta)\ge (1-\delta) W +K(1-\delta)\bar
W=(1-\delta)(W-K\bar W).$$
Let finally $\bar W< 0,\; W< 0. $ Then the same inequality holds
since the function $f(W):= \mu_2(\delta)(W)/W$ is decreasing for
$W\in[{-1\over 3\sqrt3},0] $ and $f(0)=(1-\delta). $
\bigskip
This result can be applied to our situation thanks to the
following formulas generalizing those of Section 3; the proofs
remain essentially the same as for Lemma 3.2 (i.e. brute force MAPLE calculation
together with invariance properties of $w$). Namely, the matrix $A_{\delta}=H_{\delta}(a)$
becomes a block matrix
$$A_{\delta}=
\left
\begin{array}{cc}
A_{6,\delta}&0 \\
0&M_{6,\delta} \\
\end{array
\right)$$ where $A_{6,\delta}=D^2w_{6,\delta}(a')$ is the Hessian of the function
$$
w_6(a')=P_6(a')/|a'|^{1+\delta}={r_0s_0t_0-r_0s_1t_1-r_1s_0t_1-r_1s_1t_0\over (r_0^2+s_0^2+t_0^2+r_1^2+s_1^2+t_1^2)^{{1+\delta\over 2}}}$$
and $M_{6,\delta}=N_6-(1+\delta)W\cdot I_{6}.$
\bigskip
{\bf Lemma 4.2. } {\em Let $\delta\in[0,1)$ and let $a=(r,s,t)\in
S_1^{11};$ define
$$
W=W(a)=P(a),\; m=m(a) = |s| ,\; n=n(a)= |t| .$$
Then the characteristic polynomial of the
matrix $A_{\delta}= H_{\delta}(a):=D^2w_{\delta}(a)$ is given by
$$ P_{A,\delta}(T)=P_{1,\delta}(T)^2\cdot P_{2,\delta}(T)$$
where
$P_{1,\delta}(T)=P_{1,\delta}(T,W):=Q_1(T+W+\delta W)=$
$$T^3+3W(1+\delta)T^2+(3W^2(1+\delta)^2-1)T+W(1-\delta)+W^3(1+\delta)^3\; ;$$
$$P_{2,\delta}(T)=P_{2,\delta}(T,W):=T^6+a_{5,\delta}T^5+a_{4,\delta} T^4+a_{3,\delta}T^3+
a_{2,\delta}T^2+a_{1,\delta} T +a_{0,\delta}$$ where
$$a_{5,\delta}:=W(\delta+1)(9-\delta),$$
$$a_{4,\delta}:=W^2(\delta+1)(21+28\delta-5\delta^2)+L(\delta+1)(3-\delta)-2,$$
$$a_{3,\delta}:=-2W(1+\delta)\cdot \left( W^2(\delta+1)(5\delta^2-26\delta-7)-L(2\delta+1)
(3-\delta)+4\right),$$
$$a_{2,\delta}:=-W^4(10\delta^2-53\delta+9)(\delta+1)^3
-2W^2(\delta+1)(3L\delta^3-6L\delta^2-9L\delta +7\delta+3)$$
$$+L\delta^2-3M\delta^2-2L\delta+6M\delta-3L+9M+1$$
$$a_{1,\delta}:=
-(\delta+1) \left(W^4 (5 \delta-3) (\delta-5) (\delta+1)^3-2
(\delta+1) (-2 L \delta^3 +5 L \delta^2 +4 L \delta-6 \delta -3
L+2) W^2\right.$$
$$\left.+2 (3-\delta) (-3 \delta M+L \delta-L)+1-\delta\right)W$$
$$ a_{0,\delta} =(1-\delta) \left(W^6 (\delta-5) (\delta+1)^5+
W^4 (\delta+1)^3 (L \delta^2-2 L \delta-3 L+4)\right.$$
$$\left.-W^2 (\delta+1) (L \delta^2-3 M \delta^2+\delta+6 M
\delta-4 L \delta-1+3 L+9 M)-M (1-\delta)\right)\; , $$ with
$L=m^2+n^2-n^2m^2-n^4-m^4,\; M=m^2n^2(1-n^2-m^2)$ as before}.
\medskip
A MAPLE calculation gives then for the resultant
$$R_{\delta}(r_0,m,n):=Res(P_{1,\delta},P_{2,\delta})=
16m^4n^4(1-n^2-m^2-r_0^2)^3\cdot R(W,\delta)$$ where
$$R(W,\delta)=27(\delta+1)^3(3-\delta)^3W^4+9(\delta-1)^2(\delta-3)^2(\delta+1)^2
W^2-(\delta-1)^2(\delta^2-2\delta-2)^2.$$ Denote by
$W_0(\delta)\in (0,1/3\sqrt 3]$ the unique positive root of
$R(W,\delta).$ Recall that the set $\Phi(S^{11}) $ of possible
triples $\Phi(a)=(r_0,m,n): r_0=r_0(a), m=m(a),n=n(a)$ for $a\in
S^{11}_1 $ is a quarter $\bar B_{++}:=B_1\bigcap \{ m\ge 0, n\ge
0\} $ of the closed unit ball $B=B_1 \subset V;$ recall also that
$ W(a)=r_0mn$. Let $ B_+(\delta)$ (resp. $ B_-(\delta)$, $
B_0(\delta)$) be the subset of $(r_0,m,n)\in \Phi(S^{11})$ where
$R_{\delta}(W)>0$ (resp. $R_{\delta}(W)<0$, $R_{\delta}(W)=0$).
Then
\medskip
$ B_0(\delta)=S_{++}^2\bigcup D_{r_{0}+}\bigcup D_{m+}\bigcup
D_{n+}$ with $D_{m+}=\bar B_{++}\bigcap \{ m=0\}$ etc.,
$$ B_+(\delta)=B_{++}\bigcap \{ r_0mn >W_0(\delta)\},\;
\bar B_+(\delta)=\bar B_{++}\bigcap \{ r_0mn \ge W_0(\delta)\},$$
$$ B_-(\delta)=B_{++}\bigcap \{0< r_0mn <W_0(\delta)\},\;
\bar B_-(\delta)=\bar B_{++}\bigcap \{ r_0mn \le W_0(\delta)\}.$$
Note that these sets are invariant under the reflection $Refl:
(r_0,m,n)\mapsto (-r_0,m,n) $; $ B^0(\delta)$ and $\bar
B_-(\delta)$ are connected, while $ B_-(\delta)$, $\bar
B_+(\delta)$ and $B_+(\delta)$ have two connected components each.
\bigskip {\bf Lemma 4.3. }
{\em Let $a \in S_1^{11},$ let
$\lambda_{1}(\delta,a)\ge\lambda_{2}(\delta,a)\ge\ldots\ge\lambda_{12}(\delta,a)$
be the eigenvalues of $D^2w_{\delta}(a)$ and let
$\mu_1(\delta,a)\ge\mu_2(\delta,a)\ge\mu_3(\delta,a)$ be the roots of
$P_{1,\delta}(T,W(a)).$ Then
$$(i)\;\;\lambda_{1}(\delta,a)=\lambda_{2}(\delta,a)=\mu_1(\delta,a),\;
\lambda_{12}(\delta,a)=\lambda_{11}(\delta,a)=\mu_3(\delta,a)\; ; \hskip 1. cm$$
$$(ii)\;\;\lambda_{5}(\delta,a)=\lambda_{6}(\delta,a)=\mu_2(\delta,a)\;\;
{\hbox {for}}\; \;
\Phi(a)\in \bar B_+(\delta),\;W=W(a)\ge 0\; ;\quad$$
$$(iii)\;\;\lambda_{7}(\delta,a)=\lambda_{8}(\delta,a)=\mu_2(\delta,a)\;\;
{\hbox {for}}\; \;
\Phi(a)\in \bar B_+(\delta),\;W=W(a)\le 0\;;\quad$$
$$(iv)\;\;\lambda_{6}(\delta,a)=\lambda_{7}(\delta,a)=\mu_2(\delta,a)\;\;
{\hbox {for}}\; \;
\Phi(a)\in \bar B_-(\delta)\; .\hskip 2.9 cm$$}
\medskip
{\em Proof of Lemma 4.3.} Since
$\lambda_{1}(\delta,a)=\lambda_{12}(\delta,-a),$
$\lambda_{12}(\delta,a)=\lambda_{1}(\delta,-a),$
$\lambda_{6}(\delta,a)=\lambda_{7}(\delta,-a),$
$\lambda_{7}(\delta,a)=\lambda_{6}(\delta,-a),$
$\lambda_{8}(\delta,a)=\lambda_{5}(\delta,-a),$
$\lambda_{5}(\delta,a)=\lambda_{8}(\delta,-a),$
$ W(-a)=-W(a),$ $
(iii)$ is implied by $(ii)$ and, moreover one can suppose without
loss that $\Phi(a)=(r_0,m,n)\in {\bf R}_+^3.$ Since in the
interior of the domain $B_+(\delta)\bigcap{\bf R}_+^3$ (resp.
$B_-(\delta) \bigcap{\bf R}_+^3$) the function
$R_{\delta}(r_0,m,n)$ does not vanish, it is sufficient to verify
the ordering of the roots at a single point in
$B_-(\delta)\bigcap{\bf R}_+^3$ (resp. at a single point in
$B_+(\delta) \bigcap{\bf R}_+^3).$ We use
$a_-:=(\varepsilon,\varepsilon,\varepsilon)\in
B_-(\delta)\bigcap{\bf R}_+^3$ and $a_+:=(1/\sqrt 3,1/\sqrt
3,1/\sqrt 3-\varepsilon)\in B_+(\delta)\bigcap{\bf R}_+^3$ for
sufficiently small $\varepsilon>0.$ Let
$\nu_1(\delta,a)\ge\nu_2(\delta,a)\ge\ldots \ge\nu_6(\delta,a) $
be the roots of $P_{2,\delta}(T,W(a)).$ Elementary calculations
show that for $a=a_-$ one has $W=W(a)=\varepsilon^3,$
$$\mu_1(\delta,a)=1+O(\varepsilon^3),\;
\mu_2(\delta,a)=O(\varepsilon^3),\;\mu_3(\delta,a)=-1+O(\varepsilon^3),$$
while $P_{2,\delta}(T,W(a))=F_1(T,\varepsilon)\cdot
F_2(T,\varepsilon)$
where $$F_1(T,\varepsilon)= T^2-1+2
\varepsilon^2+O(\varepsilon^3), $$
$$F_2(T,\varepsilon)=T^4+\varepsilon^3 (7 +6 \delta -\delta^2
)T^3$$
$$ +(12 \varepsilon^6 \delta^2 +3 \varepsilon^4 \delta^2 -3
\varepsilon^6 \delta^3 +21 \varepsilon^6 \delta+6 \varepsilon^6 +4
\varepsilon^2 -2 \varepsilon^2 \delta^2 -1-6 \varepsilon^4 \delta
+4 \varepsilon^2 \delta -9 \varepsilon^4 )T^2$$
$$ +\varepsilon^3(1-10
\varepsilon^2 - \delta^2 -12 \varepsilon^4 \delta^2 +4
\varepsilon^2 \delta -18 \varepsilon^4 \delta +10 \varepsilon^2
\delta^2 -4 \varepsilon^2 \delta^3 +6 \varepsilon^4 \delta^3+
O(\varepsilon^6))T $$
$$ +
\varepsilon^4(1-\delta)^2-\varepsilon^6(\delta+1)(\delta-1)^2
(2\delta\varepsilon^2-4\varepsilon^2+1) +
O(\varepsilon^{10})$$
and thus
$$\mu_1(\delta,a)\ge\nu_1(\delta,a)=1-\varepsilon^2+O(\varepsilon^3)\ge
\nu_2(\delta,a)=1-\varepsilon^2(2+2\delta-\delta^2)+O(\varepsilon^3),$$
$$ \nu_3(\delta,a)=(1-\delta)\varepsilon^2 +O(\varepsilon^3)\ge\mu_2(\delta,a)\ge
\nu_4(\delta,a)=-(1-\delta)\varepsilon^2+O(\varepsilon^3),$$
$$
\nu_5(\delta,a)=-1+\varepsilon^2(2+2\delta-\delta^2)+O(\varepsilon^3)\ge
\nu_6(\delta,a)=-1+\varepsilon^2+O(\varepsilon^3)\ge\mu_3(\delta,a)
$$
which proves the claim in this case.
\medskip
For $a=a_+$ one has $W=W(a)=(1/\sqrt 3-\varepsilon)/3$ and similar
calculations give
$$\mu_1(\delta,a)={2-\delta\over 3\sqrt 3 }+3^{-1/4} \sqrt{2\varepsilon}
+O(\varepsilon),\; \mu_2(\delta,a)={2-\delta\over 3\sqrt 3 }-
3^{-1/4} \sqrt{2\varepsilon} +O(\varepsilon),\;$$ $$
\mu_3(\delta,a)={-7-\delta\over 3\sqrt 3
}+(5/3+\delta)\varepsilon+O(\varepsilon^2),$$
while $P_{2,\delta}(T,W(a))=G_1(T,\varepsilon)\cdot
G_2(T,\varepsilon)^2\cdot G_3(T,\varepsilon)^2$
where
$$G_1(T,\varepsilon):=T^2+{(\delta+1)\over 3\sqrt 3}(5-\delta)
(1-\sqrt 3\varepsilon)T $$
$$+{(1-\delta)\over 27}(3\delta^2\varepsilon^2-2\sqrt
3\delta^2\varepsilon-12\delta\varepsilon^2+\delta^2 +8\sqrt
3\delta\varepsilon-15\varepsilon^2+5\delta+10\sqrt 3
\varepsilon-14)\;,$$
$$G_2(T,\varepsilon):= T+{4+\delta\over 3\sqrt 3} -{\varepsilon(\delta+1)\over 3}
\; ,$$
$$G_3(T,\varepsilon):= T-{2-\delta\over 3\sqrt 3} -{\varepsilon(\delta+1)\over 3}
\; ,$$
and thus
$$\mu_1(\delta,a)\ge\nu_1(\delta,a)=
\nu_2(\delta,a)= {2-\delta\over 3\sqrt 3} +O(\varepsilon)\ge
\mu_2(\delta,a)\ge$$
$$ \nu_3(\delta,a)= {(2-\delta)(1-\delta)\over 3\sqrt 3}
+O(\varepsilon)\ge \nu_4(\delta,a)=\nu_5(\delta,a)=-{4+\delta\over
3\sqrt 3} +O(\varepsilon)\; ,$$
$$
\nu_6(\delta,a)={-7-\delta\over 3\sqrt 3
}+{\varepsilon(\delta-5)(\delta-9)(\delta+1)\over
3(9-2\delta+\delta^2)}+O(\varepsilon^2) \ge\mu_3(\delta,a)
$$
which finishes the proof of the lemma (note that
$$\nu_6(\delta,a)-\mu_3(\delta,a)=
{2\varepsilon\delta(7+\delta)(1-\delta)\over
3(9-2\delta+\delta^2)}+O(\varepsilon^2)\ge 0\; ).$$
\bigskip
{\em End of proof of Proposition 4.1.} If $W(a)$ and $W(b)$ are
of the same sign we get the result applying Lemmas 4.1 and 4.3
with $K:= |b| ^{-\delta} $; in the exceptional case $K=1, \;
W(a)=W(b)$ the trace of $H_{\delta}(a,b,O)$ vanishes and the claim
is valid for $C_{\delta}=11$. In the case $W(a)\cdot W(b)<0$ we
can suppose without loss that $W(a)>0,\; W(b)<0;$ if $\Phi(a)
\notin B_+$ or $\Phi(\bar b) \notin B_+$ then Lemmas 4.1 and 4.3
work as well. Thus we can suppose $\Phi(a) \in B_+,\;\Phi(\bar b)
\in B_+;$ then
$$Refl(\Phi(\bar b)) \in B_+,\;W(-\bar b)>0,\;
\lambda_{i}(-b)=-\lambda_{13-i}(b),\;\lambda_{i}(-\bar
b)=-\lambda_{13-i}(\bar b)\;$$ and
$$
Tr(H_{\delta}(a,b,O))=-(W(a)+KW(-\bar b))(\delta+1)(15-\delta)<0$$
which implies immediately that $11\ge -\Lambda_{1}/\Lambda_{12}. $
Moreover, $$\Lambda_{1}\ge \lambda_{6}(a)-K \lambda_{6}(\bar
b)=\lambda_{6}(a)+K \lambda_{7}(-\bar b)=
\mu_2(\delta,a)+K\mu_2(\delta, -\bar b)\ge $$ $$
(1-\delta)(W(a)+KW(-\bar b))= {(1-\delta)Tr(H_{\delta}(a,b,O))
\over (\delta+1)(15-\delta)}>0$$ and thus $$
-\Lambda_{1}/\Lambda_{12}\ge \left(11+ {
(\delta+1)(15-\delta)\over 1-\delta}\right)^{-1}={ 1-\delta \over
26+3\delta-\delta^2}$$ which finishes the proof of the
proposition.
\bigskip To deduce Corollary 1.1 we need the map
$$H_{\delta}: B^{12}_1-\{0\} \longrightarrow Q\;,\;\; a \mapsto D^2w_{\delta}(a)$$
where $Q=S^2({\bf R}^{12})$ denotes the space of quadratic forms
on ${\bf R}^{12}.$ The following result is sufficient to conclude
using Proposition 4.1 and Lemma 2.2 of [NV1]:
\bigskip
{\bf Lemma 4.4.} {\em Let $\delta \in (0,1).$ Then the image
$H_{\delta}\left (B^{12}_1-\{0\}\right )\subset Q$ is
diffeomorphic to the product $V_{11,\delta}\times [1,\infty)$ with
a smooth 11-dimensional manifold $V_{11,\delta}$.}
\bigskip
{\em Proof.} Since
$D^2w_{\delta}(a)=D^2w_{\delta}(a/|a|)|a|^{-\delta}$ it is
sufficient to show two facts:
\medskip (i) $H_{{\delta}\;| S^{11}_1}:S^{11}_1 \longrightarrow Q$
is a smooth embedding;
\medskip
(ii) if $D^2w_{\delta}(a)=D^2w_{\delta}(b)\cdot k$ with $k>0$ then
$k=1$.
\medskip
Lemmas 4.1 and 4.2 imply (ii). To prove (i) we fix
$a\neq b \in S^{11}_1 $ and
consider $ d= {a-b\over |a-b|}\in S^{11}_1.$ Let then $e, f\in
S_1^{11}\bigcap a^{\perp} \bigcap b^{\perp}. $ Since $e, f \perp
a, b $ one has
$$w_{\delta,ee}(a)=P_{ee}(a)-(1+\delta)P(a),\;\;
w_{\delta,ee}(b)=P_{ee}(b)-(1+\delta)P(b),$$
$$w_{\delta,ff}(a)=P_{ff}(a)-(1+\delta)P(a),\;\;
w_{\delta,ff}(b)=P_{ff}(b)-(1+\delta)P(b)$$ and hence
$$\left(w_{\delta,ee}(a)-w_{\delta,ee}(b)\right)-
\left(w_{\delta,ff}(a)-w_{\delta,ff}(b)\right)=$$
$$\left(P_{ee}(a)-P_{ee}(b)\right)
-\left(P_{ff}(a)-P_{ff}(b)\right)= |a-b| (P_{eed}-P_{ffd})\ge
{2\over \sqrt 3} |a-b| $$ for suitable vectors $e,f$ as in the
proof of Proposition 2 in [NV1, Section 4]. It follows that $$
\max\{|w_{\delta,ee}(a)-w_{\delta,ee}(b)|,|w_{\delta,ff}(a)-w_{\delta,ff}(b)
|\}\ge |a-b|/\sqrt 3 $$ which finishes the proof.
\section{Isaacs equation}
\medskip
We can then prove Theorem 1.2 as a simple consequence of the results of Section 4.
Denote by $K_C\subset S^2({\bf R}^2) $ the cone of positive symmetric matrix with
the ellipticity constant $C$, i.e., if $A\in K_C, \ A=\{ a_{ij} \}$ then
$$C^{-1}|\xi |^2 \leq \sum a_{ij}\xi_i\xi_j \leq C|\xi |^2.$$
Recall the following results from [NV3, Section 5]:
\medskip
{\bf Lemma 5.1.} {\it Let $w\in C^{\infty }({\bf R}^n\setminus 0) $ be a homogeneous order $\alpha , 1<\alpha
\leq 2$ function. Assume that for any two points $x,y\in {\bf R}^n,\ 0<|x|,|y|\le 1$, there exists a matrix
$A\in K_C$ orthogonal to both forms $D^2w(x), D^2w(y),$
$$Tr(A D^2w(x))=Tr (AD^2w(y))=0.$$
Then $w$ is a viscosity solution to an Isaacs equation. }
\medskip
Recall that a symmetric matrix $A$ is called strictly hyperbolic if
$$\frac{1}{ M} < -\frac{\lambda_1(A)}{\lambda_n (A)} < M$$
for a positive $M$.
\medskip
{\bf Lemma 5.2.} {\it Let $F_1, F_2$ be two quadratic forms in ${\bf R}^n$ s.t. the form $ \alpha F_1+\beta F_2$
is strictly hyperbolic for any $ (\alpha, \beta) \in {\bf R}^2\setminus \{0\}$. Then there exists a positive quadratic form
$Q$ orthogonal to both forms $F_1, F_2$,
$$Tr(F_1Q)=Tr(F_2Q)=0. $$ }
\medskip
The results of Section 4 imply that the
form $ \alpha {D^2w_{\delta}} _{|H}(x) -\beta {D^2w_{\delta}} _{|H}(y) $
is strictly hyperbolic for positive $ \alpha, \beta$; since the function $w_{\delta}$ is
odd, it remains true for any $ (\alpha, \beta) \in {\bf R}^2\setminus \{0\}$ and thus Lemmas 5.1 and
5.2 imply Theorem 1.4.
\bigskip
\section{ Eleven Dimensions}
For a unit vector $a\in S_1^{10} \subset {\bf R}^{11}$ we
continue to denote $D^2 w_H(a)$ by $H(a)$.
\bigskip
{\bf Lemma 6.1. }{\em Let $a \in S_1^{10} $ and let $\lambda_1\ge
\lambda_2\ge\ldots\ge\lambda_{11} $ be the eigenvalues of
$A=H(a)$. Then}
$$\lambda_6 ={2\over \sqrt 3}\cos\left({\arccos(3\sqrt 3 P_{H}(a))+\pi\over 3
}\right)-P_{H}(a).$$
\medskip
{\em Proof.} This follows from Lemma 3.1 and Lemma 2.3.
\medskip
Let then $a\neq b\in S_1^{10} $ and let $O\in {\hbox {O}}({11} )$
be an orthogonal matrix s.t. $H(a,b,O):=H(a)- {^tO}\cdot H(b)\cdot
O\neq 0$. Denote $ \Lambda_1\ge\Lambda_2\ge \ldots\ge\Lambda_{11}$
the eigenvalues of the matrix $H(a,b,O).$ As in Section 3 above one gets
\bigskip
{\bf Lemma 6.2. } {\em Let $ A:=H(a),$ $B:={^tO}\cdot H(b)\cdot
O.$
$(i)$ If $P_{H}(a)-P_{H}(b)\ge 0 $ then }${\hbox
{Tr}}(B-A)=14(P_{H}(a)-P_{H}(b))\le 14\Lambda_1; $
$(ii)$ {\em If $P_{H}(a)-P_{H}(b)\le 0 $ then} ${\hbox
{Tr}}(B-A)=14(P_{H}(a)-P_{H}(b))\ge 14\Lambda_{11}. $
which implies
\bigskip
{\bf Proposition 6.1.} {\em Let $a\neq b\in S_1^{10} $ and
let $O\in {\hbox {O}}({11} )$ be an orthogonal matrix s.t.
$H(a,b,O):=H(a)- {^tO}\cdot H(b)\cdot O\neq 0$.
Denote $ \Lambda_1\ge\Lambda_2\ge
\ldots\ge\Lambda_{11}$ the eigenvalues of the matrix
$H(a,b,O).$
Then}
$${1\over 24} \le {\Lambda_1\over -\Lambda_{12}}\le 24.$$
\medskip
Proposition 6.1 and Lemma 2.1 give a proof of Theorem 1.3 exactly
as Proposition 3.1 implies Theorem 1.1 in the case $\delta=0$.
\medskip
{\em Remark 6.1.} The ellipticity constant $C$ of thus obtained
functional $F$ verifies
$C\le 4\cdot 24^2\sqrt{11}<10^4. $
\medskip
{\em Remark 6.2.} One can not directly use the approach of Section 4 to the
function $$w_H/ |x|^{\delta } $$ for $\delta >0$ since
although the corresponding Hessian $D^2(w/ |x|^{\delta }) $ always
has double eigenvalues, they position in the spectrum is
not fixed and can vary from (5,6) to (7,8), see Lemma 4.3 above.
It means that after the restriction on a hyperplane $H$ we
lose the property necessary to control the ellipticity and thus can not construct a singular solution
in 11 dimensions.
\section{Singular solutions with cusp}
Let $P$ be a linear elliptic operator of the form
$$P = \sum_{i,j} a_{ij}(x) {\partial^2 \over \partial x_i\partial x_j },$$
defined in a half-ball $B_+=\{ x\in B\subset {\bf R}^n, x_1>0\} $,
$a_{ij} \in L_{ \infty} (B_+)$ and satisfying the inequalities
$$C^{-1}|\xi|^2\le \sum
a_{ij}\xi_i\xi_j\le C |\xi |^2\;,\forall\xi\in {\bf R}^n\;.$$
Let $z\in C^2(B_+)$ and $Pz=0$ in $B_+, $ $z=0$ on $L,$ where
$L=\{ x\in B, x_1=0 \}$. Assume that $z<1$ in $B_+$. Then it is
well known, [GT], that
$$ |\nabla z(0)| \leq K,$$
where constant $K$ depends on the ellipticity constant $C$.
\bigskip
{\bf Lemma 7.1.} {\em The following inequality holds with
positive constants $K, \epsilon $ depending on the ellipticity
constant $C$:
$$ |z-dz(0)|\leq K|x|^{1+\epsilon },$$
where $dz$ is the differential of the function $z$}.
\medskip The lemma follows directly from P. Bauman's boundary
Harnack inequality, [B].
\bigskip
{\em Proof of Theorem 1.4. } We may assume w.r.g. that $F(0)=0$,
otherwise instead of the function $u$ we consider the function
$u+c|x|^2$ with a suitable constant $c$.
Set
$$v(r)=\sup_{|x|=r} u(x),$$
$$u_i=u(x_1,...,-x_i,...,x_n),$$
$$z_i=u-u_i.$$
Since $u$ is a solution of a Hessian equation the functions $u_i$
are solutions of the same equation as well. Hence functions $z_i$
given as the difference of two solutions of the fully nonlinear
elliptic equation are solutions to a linear elliptic equation
$Pz_i=0$ in $B$. Define a linear function $l$ as
$$l={1\over 2} \sum dz_i(0).$$
Set
$$u_0=u-l.$$
Let $|y|=|y'|=r<1$. Choose in ${\bf R}^n$ an orthonormal
coordinate system $y_1,...,y_n$, such that $y_1=(y-y')/|y-y'|$.
Set
$$u'(y_1,...,y_n)=u_0(-y_1,...,y_n),$$
$$v=u_0-u'.$$
Since $F(u')=0$ we get $Pv=0$ in $B$. Moreover
$$\nabla v(0)=0. $$
Hence by Lemma 7.1,
$$v(x)=o(|x|^{1+\epsilon }).$$
Therefore
$$u_0(y)-u_0(y')= o(|y|^{1+\epsilon }).$$
Set
$$h(r) = \inf_{|x|=r} u_0(x),$$
$$h_0(r) = \sup_{|x|=r} u_0(x).$$
Then
$$h(|x|)-h_0(|x|)= o(|x|^{1+\epsilon }).\leqno (7.1)$$
Since $F(0)=0$, we may assume without loss that $u(0)=0, \ h_0'(1)>0$.
Then by the maximum principle $h_0'(r)$ is a monotone function of
$r$. If $h(r)= o(|x|^{1+\epsilon /2})$ we may set $h\equiv 0$
and the theorem is proved. Assume that $h(r) >\epsilon |x|^{1+\epsilon /2}$. Then from
(6.1) it follows that $|h(r)|$ is a positive function for sufficiently small $r$.
By a direct computation
$$\lambda (D^2 h(|x|))= (h'' , h'/|x|, ...,h'/|x|).$$
Hence $h$ has no local minimums and since $h>0$ we get $h'>0, h''<0$ for sufficiently small $r$.
Therefore $h$ is a monotone, concave function for small $r$.
For any $0<r<1$ there exists a point $x_0, |x_0|=r$ such that $u_0(x_0)=h(r)$ and since
$h-u_0 \leq 0$ the quadratic part of the function $u_0-h$ is
non-negatively defined. Hence from the uniform ellipticity
condition for $F$ we get the inequality
$$-|x|h''/h'>\delta ,$$
on an interval $(0,a)$ for some $a>0$, where $\delta $ depends on
the ellipticity constant. From the last inequality it follows that
$$h(r)>r^{1-\delta }$$
on $(0,a)$. Since we can redefine $h$ on $(a,1)$ as a monotone,
concave function, the theorem is proved.
\pagebreak
\centerline{\bf REFERENCES}
\medskip\medskip
\medskip
\noindent [A] A.D. Alexandroff, {\it Sur les th\'eor\`emes
d'unicite pour les surfaces ferm\'ees}, Dokl. Acad. Nauk 22
(1939), 99--102.
\medskip
\noindent [B] P. Bauman, {\it Positive solutions of elliptic
equations in non-divergence form and their adjoints}, Ark. Mat. 22
(1984), 153--173.
\medskip
\noindent [Ba] J. Ball, {\it Convexity conditions and existence
theorems in nonlinear elasticity}, Arch. Rat. Mech. Anal. 63
(1977), 337--403.
\medskip
\noindent [C] L. Caffarelli, {\it Interior a priory estimates for solutions
of fully nonlinear equations}, Ann. Math. 130 (1989), 189--213.
\medskip
\noindent [CC] L. Caffarelli, X. Cabre, {\it Fully Nonlinear Elliptic
Equations}, Amer. Math. Soc., Providence, R.I., 1995.
\medskip
\noindent [CIL] M.G. Crandall, H. Ishii, P-L. Lions, {\it User's
guide to viscosity solutions of second order partial differential
equations,} Bull. Amer. Math. Soc. (N.S.), 27(1) (1992), 1--67.
\medskip
\noindent [CNS] L. Caffarelli, L. Nirenberg, J. Spruck, {\it The Dirichlet
problem for nonlinear second order elliptic equations III. Functions
of the eigenvalues of the Hessian, } Acta Math.
155 (1985), no. 3-4, 261--301.
\medskip
\noindent [E] L. C. Evans, {\it Classical solutions of fully nonlinear,
convex, second-order elliptic equations }, Comm. Pure Appl. Math.
35 (1982), 333--363.
\medskip
\noindent [Fu] W. Fulton, {\it Eigenvalues, invariant factors, highest weights,
and Schubert calculus,} Bull. Amer. Math. Soc. (N.S.), 37(3)
(2000), 209--249.
\medskip
\noindent [GT] D. Gilbarg, N. Trudinger, {\it Elliptic Partial
Differential Equations of Second Order, 2nd ed.}, Springer-Verlag,
Berlin-Heidelberg-New York-Tokyo, 1983.
\medskip
\noindent [HNY] Q. Han, N. Nadirashvili, Y. Yuan, {\it Linearity of
homogeneous order-one solutions to elliptic equations in dimension
three,} Comm. Pure Appl. Math. 56 (2003), 425--432.
\medskip
\noindent [HL]
R. Harvey, H. B. Lawson Jr., {\it Calibrated geometries,}
Acta Math. 148 (1982), 47--157.
\medskip
\noindent [JX] J. Jost., Y.-L. Xin, {\it A Bernstein theorem
for special Lagrangian graphs,} Calc. Var. Part. Diff. Eq. 15
(2002), 299--312.
\medskip
\noindent [K] N.V. Krylov, {\it Nonlinear Elliptic and Parabolic
Equations of Second Order}, Reidel, 1987.
\medskip
\noindent [LO] H. B. Lawson Jr., R. Osserman,
{\it Non-existence, non-uniqueness and irregularity of solutions to the minimal surface system,}
Acta Math. 139 (1977), 1--17.
\medskip
\noindent [N] L. Nirenberg, {\it On nonlinear elliptic partial
differential equations and H\"older continuity,} Comm. Pure Appl.
Math. 6 (1953), 103--156.
\medskip
\noindent [NV1] N. Nadirashvili, S. Vl\u adu\c t, {\it
Nonclassical solutions of fully nonlinear elliptic equations,}
Geom. Func. An. 17 (2007), 1283--1296.
\medskip
\noindent [NV2] N. Nadirashvili, S. Vl\u adu\c t, {\it Singular
solutions to fully nonlinear elliptic equations,} J. Math. Pures
Appl. 89 (2008), 107--113.
\medskip
\noindent [NV3] N. Nadirashvili, S. Vl\u adu\c t, {\it
Nonclassical solutions of fully nonlinear elliptic equations II.
Hessian Equations and Octonions,} arXiv:0912.3126, submitted.
\medskip
\noindent [NY] N. Nadirashvili, Y. Yuan, {\it Homogeneous solutions
to fully nonlinear elliptic equation}, Proc. AMS, 134:6 (2006),
1647--1649.
\medskip
\noindent [T1] N. Trudinger, {\it Weak solutions of Hessian
equations,} Comm. Partial Differential Equations 22 (1997), no.
7-8, 1251--1261.
\medskip
\noindent [T2] N. Trudinger, {\it On the Dirichlet problem for
Hessian equations,} Acta Math.
175 (1995), no. 2, 151--164.
\medskip
\noindent [T3] N. Trudinger, {\it H\"older gradient estimates for fully nonlinear elliptic equations,}
Proc. Roy. Soc. Edinburgh Sect. A 108 (1988), 57--65.
\medskip
\noindent [We] G. Weyl, {\it Das asymptotische Verteilungsgezets
des Eigenwerte lineare partieller Differentialgleichungen,} Math.
Ann.
71 (1912), no. 2, 441--479.
\end{document}
| {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaArXiv"
} | 2,945 |
package utils
import (
"syscall"
)
// IsProcessAlive returns true if process with a given pid is running.
func IsProcessAlive(pid int) bool {
err := syscall.Kill(pid, syscall.Signal(0))
if err == nil || err == syscall.EPERM {
return true
}
return false
}
// KillProcess force-stops a process.
func KillProcess(pid int) {
syscall.Kill(pid, syscall.SIGKILL)
}
| {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaGithub"
} | 3,053 |
Easter Egg HuntThere Are 6 Hidden Gems in Taylor Swift's 'ME!' Music Video — See What You Might Have Missed
Apr 26, 2019 11:18 am·
By Jennifer Machin
She's back! Taylor Swift just released her highly-anticipated single 'ME!' featuring Panic! at the Disco's Brendon Urie on Friday, April 26, and the music video is filled with hidden clues. Behind the bright, happy, multi-colored, over-the-top visuals, there are some hidden references pointing at things in her past, upcoming music and personal life. Check out all the Easter eggs for 'ME!' below.
The video starts off with a cameo of a snake slithering across the ground, which then bursts into a swarm of butterflies. This could be Taylor's way of saying goodbye to her Reputation era, which was a darker phase for the pop star. Let's not forget the snake is a major symbol for the drama she had with Kim Kardashian and Kanye West in 2017. She's basically saying she's over the negativity!
'Cool Chicks'
For the line, "There's a lot of cool chicks out there," Tay playfully incorporates literal chicks, which she teased a photo of on social media days before the video dropped. But she also included the Dixie Chicks. In the past, she's has openly spoken about her admiration for the trio. "If not for this woman and her band, I would not have known that you could be quirky, be fun, be yourself, be outspoken and brave and real," Taylor admitted during her 1989 tour. Considering the country stars acknowledged their cameo on Twitter, it's safe to say they're fans of Taylor too. Is Tay's way of hinting a collab will happen soon?
'Blank Space' Vs. 'ME!'
There are some parallels between "ME!" and "Blank Space." For both videos, Taylor is in a mansion wearing fancy clothes. However, there's a big change in behavior between both of these Taylor versions. "Blank Space" is her way of poking fun at herself in terms of what people say about her "crazy" dating life, while "ME!" has a more positive approach and is about accepting who you are and embracing it.
'Lover'
The word "Lover" appears as a neon sign in the background, and many fans speculate this could either be the name of another song or the title for the upcoming album. When a fan asked about the album's title name on Tumblr, Taylor didn't reveal that, instead, she simply replied with, "SOON MY LOVE SOOOOOOON," and added five pink hearts. "Taylor used five hearts. So I'm guessing it's LOVER (five letters) and the word appeared in the music video …" said another fan on Twitter about Taylor's upcoming album title.
When Brendon gets on one knee and pops the question, Taylor rejects him. In real life, there have been several rumors about her being engaged to boyfriend Joe Alwyn. This could be her way of suggesting it's not true … yet. One fan seems to agree. "Does that mean @taylorswift13 is getting engaged soon!?" they tweeted.
Surprise?
Taylor revealed there's a secret in the video and there's a possibility that it could be that she got a new cat. In the butterfly mural photo she shared on social media, there are also three cats hidden in the background, which represent her existing pets Meredith and Olivia-Benson and now this new addition. It's a growing family!
More in Videos
Taylor Swift Drops Highly Anticipated Song 'ME!' and Music Video Featuring Panic! at the Disco's Brendon Urie
Khloé Kardashian Addresses Pesky Plastic Surgery Rumors: 'Oh Man ... You Guys Are Really Reaching'
Date Night! Scott Disick and Sofia Richie Pack on the PDA While Leaving a Club in L.A. | {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaCommonCrawl"
} | 4,193 |
White Snake : Official Subtitled Trailer
From Light Chaser Animation, one of China's premiere animation studios, comes a visually stunning new take on a classic legend. One day a young woman named Blanca is saved by Xuan, a snake catcher from a nearby village. She has lost her memory, and together they go on a journey to discover her real identity, developing deeper feelings for one another along the way.
But as they learn more about her past, they uncover a darker plot of supernatural forces vying for power, with the fate of the world hanging in the balance. Conceived as a prequel to one of the most ancient and enduring stories in Chinese history, White Snake presents a sumptuous tale of trickster demons, deadly mythical beasts, assassins, wuxia action, and the promise of eternal love.
Learn With the Best Artists : Watch more than 300+ Hours of Master Classes and Workshops
animationchinaWhite Snake | {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaCommonCrawl"
} | 5,505 |
<!DOCTYPE html>
<meta charset=utf-8>
<title>Tests for current time</title>
<link rel="help" href="https://w3c.github.io/web-animations/#current-time">
<script src="/resources/testharness.js"></script>
<script src="/resources/testharnessreport.js"></script>
<script src="../../testcommon.js"></script>
<body>
<div id="log"></div>
<script>
'use strict';
test(function(t) {
var animation =
new Animation(new KeyframeEffect(createDiv(t), null, 100 * MS_PER_SEC),
document.timeline);
animation.play();
assert_equals(animation.currentTime, 0,
'Current time returns the hold time set when entering the play-pending ' +
'state');
}, 'The current time returns the hold time when set');
promise_test(function(t) {
var animation =
new Animation(new KeyframeEffect(createDiv(t), null, 100 * MS_PER_SEC),
null);
return animation.ready.then(function() {
assert_equals(animation.currentTime, null);
});
}, 'The current time is unresolved when there is no associated timeline ' +
'(and no hold time is set)');
// FIXME: Test that the current time is unresolved when we have an inactive
// timeline if we find a way of creating an inactive timeline!
test(function(t) {
var animation =
new Animation(new KeyframeEffect(createDiv(t), null, 100 * MS_PER_SEC),
document.timeline);
animation.startTime = null;
assert_equals(animation.currentTime, null);
}, 'The current time is unresolved when the start time is unresolved ' +
'(and no hold time is set)');
test(function(t) {
var animation =
new Animation(new KeyframeEffect(createDiv(t), null, 100 * MS_PER_SEC),
document.timeline);
animation.playbackRate = 2;
animation.startTime = document.timeline.currentTime - 25 * MS_PER_SEC;
var timelineTime = document.timeline.currentTime;
var startTime = animation.startTime;
var playbackRate = animation.playbackRate;
assert_times_equal(animation.currentTime,
(timelineTime - startTime) * playbackRate,
'Animation has a unresolved start time');
}, 'The current time is calculated from the timeline time, start time and ' +
'playback rate');
</script>
</body>
| {
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} | 8,003 |
{"url":"https:\/\/tex.stackexchange.com\/questions\/331145\/drawing-attention-to-sections-in-a-beamer-presentation?noredirect=1","text":"Drawing attention to sections in a beamer presentation\n\nI'd like to make the audience pay attention to sections since they are topics of the slides that will be presented afterwards and shouldn't be missed, so for every section I define a frame like this:\n\nhere's the code:\n\n\\begin{frame}\n\\frametitle{\\textarabic{}}\n\\begin{minipage}{0.95\\textwidth}\n\\begin{Arabic}\n\\begin{center}\n\\fcolorbox{blue}{blue}{\\textcolor{white}{\\LARGE{\u0646\u0645\u0627\u06cc\u0634 \u062a\u0646\u06a9}}}\n\\end{center}\n\\end{Arabic}\n\\end{minipage}\n\\end{frame}\n\n\nThe sections are shown at the upper right hand corner (the blue rectangle) and the subsections are shown in the grey rectangle. I am trying to find some other methods to make it look more attractive without the need to add lots of code defining new shapes and objects and such.\n\n\u2022 why does this have 3 close votes already? it seems like a reasonable question... please post comments with reasons if you plan to vote to close. \u2013\u00a0cmhughes Sep 24 '16 at 17:33\n\u2022 This should be closed yet. Please wait at least 24 hours after asking the OP for improvements to the question before voting to close. Also, if you downvote, please don't forget to revert the vote after the question is improved. \u2013\u00a0Martin Schr\u00f6der Sep 24 '16 at 17:59\n\u2022 Please rephrase your question to request less opinion-based answers (if any). Asking to make something \"look more attractive\" is subjective and not a good fit. Explicitly define what you mean by \"more attractive\" (for example, I want it to show up in red, or there should be an arrow pointing to the section, ...). \u2013\u00a0Werner Sep 24 '16 at 18:19\n\u2022 @werner I am not aware of all beamer or tikz options for such a request, so I couldn't be more specific. Perhaps a cloud instead of the rectangle (but then it doesn't look academic, rather childish) or the whole background being blue instead of the blue rectangle. \u2013\u00a0Gigili Sep 24 '16 at 18:27","date":"2018-12-13 18:46:58","metadata":"{\"extraction_info\": {\"found_math\": true, \"script_math_tex\": 0, \"script_math_asciimath\": 0, \"math_annotations\": 0, \"math_alttext\": 0, \"mathml\": 0, \"mathjax_tag\": 0, \"mathjax_inline_tex\": 0, \"mathjax_display_tex\": 0, \"mathjax_asciimath\": 1, \"img_math\": 0, \"codecogs_latex\": 0, \"wp_latex\": 0, \"mimetex.cgi\": 0, \"\/images\/math\/codecogs\": 0, \"mathtex.cgi\": 0, \"katex\": 0, \"math-container\": 0, \"wp-katex-eq\": 0, \"align\": 0, \"equation\": 0, \"x-ck12\": 0, \"texerror\": 0, \"math_score\": 0.6480095386505127, \"perplexity\": 628.0954971209408}, \"config\": {\"markdown_headings\": false, \"markdown_code\": true, \"boilerplate_config\": {\"ratio_threshold\": 0.18, \"absolute_threshold\": 10, \"end_threshold\": 15, \"enable\": true}, \"remove_buttons\": true, \"remove_image_figures\": true, \"remove_link_clusters\": true, \"table_config\": {\"min_rows\": 2, \"min_cols\": 3, \"format\": \"plain\"}, \"remove_chinese\": true, \"remove_edit_buttons\": true, \"extract_latex\": true}, \"warc_path\": \"s3:\/\/commoncrawl\/crawl-data\/CC-MAIN-2018-51\/segments\/1544376825029.40\/warc\/CC-MAIN-20181213171808-20181213193308-00554.warc.gz\"}"} | null | null |
{"url":"http:\/\/www.glueviz.org\/en\/stable\/api\/glue.utils.qt.process_dialog.html","text":"# process_dialog\u00b6\n\nglue.utils.qt.process_dialog(delay=0, accept=False, reject=False, function=None)\n\nContext manager to automatically capture the active dialog and carry out certain actions.\n\nNote that only one of accept, reject, or function should be specified.\n\nParameters: delay : int, optional The delay in ms before acting on the dialog (since it may not yet exist when the context manager is called). accept : bool, optional If True, accept the dialog after the specified delay. reject : bool, optional If False, reject the dialog after the specified delay function : func, optional For more complex user actions, specify a function that takes the dialog as the first and only argument.","date":"2018-01-19 21:39:59","metadata":"{\"extraction_info\": {\"found_math\": true, \"script_math_tex\": 0, \"script_math_asciimath\": 0, \"math_annotations\": 0, \"math_alttext\": 0, \"mathml\": 0, \"mathjax_tag\": 0, \"mathjax_inline_tex\": 0, \"mathjax_display_tex\": 0, \"mathjax_asciimath\": 1, \"img_math\": 0, \"codecogs_latex\": 0, \"wp_latex\": 0, \"mimetex.cgi\": 0, \"\/images\/math\/codecogs\": 0, \"mathtex.cgi\": 0, \"katex\": 0, \"math-container\": 0, \"wp-katex-eq\": 0, \"align\": 0, \"equation\": 0, \"x-ck12\": 0, \"texerror\": 0, \"math_score\": 0.18158236145973206, \"perplexity\": 5494.226226318876}, \"config\": {\"markdown_headings\": true, \"markdown_code\": true, \"boilerplate_config\": {\"ratio_threshold\": 0.18, \"absolute_threshold\": 10, \"end_threshold\": 15, \"enable\": true}, \"remove_buttons\": true, \"remove_image_figures\": true, \"remove_link_clusters\": true, \"table_config\": {\"min_rows\": 2, \"min_cols\": 3, \"format\": \"plain\"}, \"remove_chinese\": true, \"remove_edit_buttons\": true, \"extract_latex\": true}, \"warc_path\": \"s3:\/\/commoncrawl\/crawl-data\/CC-MAIN-2018-05\/segments\/1516084888135.38\/warc\/CC-MAIN-20180119204427-20180119224427-00346.warc.gz\"}"} | null | null |
Graco Model D200 with 5 gallon platen.
Graco Supply Systems can help maximize your plant's production capacity with features that minimize maintenance and streamline normal everyday operations. Drum stops and rails, plus optional roller, allow quick, easy, accurate placement of drum or pail. NATCON offers the full line of Graco Supply Systems. | {
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// requires
var mongo = require('mongodb').MongoClient;
var ObjectID = require('mongodb').ObjectID;
var url = require("../config.js").mongodbURL;
/**
* deleteTask module for handling requests on /add_task
* Request should contain the following parameters
* task's _id
* user's _id? prolly not cause task's _id is unique even among users' tasks
*/
var deleteTask = function(req,res) {
// connect to our mongodb
mongo.connect(url, function(err, db){
if (err) throw err;
// should be in place of the whole function but im too tired now and its late :D
handle(db,req,res);
});
}
// export the module
module.exports = deleteTask;
/**
* handle - handle deleteTask request
*
*/
function handle(db, req, res) {
// get out tasks collection
var tasksCollection = db.collection('tasks');
var error = null;
// check whether the task_id is passed as a parameter
if(req.body.task_id == null){
error = 'task_id is required'
}
// if there is not then tell them and stop RIGHT THERE or there will be violence!
if(error){
res.json({remove_task: 0, error: error});
}
else{
// get the parameters from the request
// then pass it to this strange object constructor because thats how mongodb's ids
// like to chill
var taskId = new ObjectID(req.body.task_id);
var user_id = new ObjectID(req.decoded._id); //from decoded token's data
// contruct the task object
var toBeRemoved =
{
_id: taskId
};
// first find the task in order to check if its owned by this user (kids these days)
tasksCollection.findOne(toBeRemoved, function(err, document) {
if(err) throw JSON.stringify({err: err});
// if there is a document with this _id
if(document){
//without .toString() even though the value and type of the vars are the same it gives false :/
if(document.user_id.toString() === user_id.toString()){
// remove the task since the user has the right to do it
tasksCollection.remove(toBeRemoved, function(err, data){
removeTask(err,data,db,res);
});
}
// got ya! its not your task -.- stop messing with our lives
else{
res.json({remove_task: 0, error: 'permission denied for this task'});
}
// else tell them that they have been bad boys
}else{
res.json({remove_task: 0, error: 'no task with such id'});
}
});
}
}
function removeTask(err, data, db, res) {
if(err) throw JSON.stringify({err: err});
// close the conenction
db.close();
// one document removed
if(data.result.n === 1){
res.json({remove_task: 1});
}
// otherwise its 0
else{
res.json({remove_task: 0, error: 'no task with such iddd'});
}
}
| {
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<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN"
"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd">
<html>
<!--
Copyright (c) 2011 The Native Client Authors. All rights reserved.
Use of this source code is governed by a BSD-style license that can be
found in the LICENSE file.
-->
<head>
<title>XaoS NativeClient Demo</title>
</head>
<body>
<h1>Xaos NativeClient Demo</h1>
<!-- Note xaos seems to have problems with larger dimension -->
<embed
width=640
height=480
src="xaos.nmf"
type="application/x-nacl" />
<p>
This is fairly rough port of Xaos - only mouse events are supported.
<br />
Left button zooms in, right button zooms out.
There is also a mostly working menu which appear when the mouse
cursor touches the top end of the screen.
</p>
<p>
XaoS is a GPL'ed open source project:
<a href="http://wmi.math.u-szeged.hu/xaos/doku.php?id=documentation:manual:gpl"> license</a>,
<a href="http://wmi.math.u-szeged.hu/xaos/doku.php?id=downloads:main">
source</a>.
</p>
The patches used to create this demo can be found
<a href="http://code.google.com/p/naclports/source/browse/trunk/src/ports/xaos/">
here</a>.
</body>
</HTML>
| {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaGithub"
} | 2,954 |
Daiki Arioka (有岡 大貴 Arioka Daiki narozen 15. dubna 1991, Čiba, Japonsko) je japonský zpěvák, herec, talent a člen J-popové skupiny Hey! Say! JUMP. Patří do agentury Johnny & Associates.
Kariéra
Dne 2. června 2003 byl přijat do Johnny & Associates jako nováček. Byl jako junior patřil do skupiny J. J. Express. Ještě předtím, než se přidal do Johnny & Associates, byl členem JUNES Project.
Když Daikimu bylo čtrnáct (2005), hrál Toru Sonobeho v dramatu Engine společně s tehdejším členem J. J. Express Jútoem Nakadžimou.
Dne 3. dubna 2007 se přidal do skupiny Hey! Say! 7 (dočasná skupina), společně s Jújou Takakim, Rjósukem Jamadou, Jútoem Nakadžimou a Júrim Činenem, začínajícím veřejným vystoupením u KAT-TUN koncertu 2007 Cartoon KAT-TUN II You.
Dne 21. září 2007 se stal členem skupiny Hey! Say! JUMP.
V říjnu 2008 dostal roli v drama Sensei wa Erait! (先生はエライっ!) (překl.: Učitel je skvělý!) společně s členy Hey! Say! JUMP Jútoem Nakadžimou, Rjósukem Jamadou a Júrim Činenem.
Téhož roku dostal další roli v seriálu Scrap Teacher: 〜Kjóši Saisei〜 (překl.: Kousek učitele: Znovunarození učitele) (スクラップ・ティーチャー〜教師再生〜) jako Irie Sugizó (入江 杉蔵). Byli tam ti samí členové jako v Sensei wa Erai! (Učitel je skvělý!).
Diskografie
Sólo písně
Kimi to Boku no Future (君と僕のフューチャー) (překl.: Tvá a má budoucnost)
Koncerty
Hey! Say! JUMP koncerty najdete na Hey! Say! JUMP.
Filmografie
Filmy
Jam Films 2: Fastener (2004)
Drama
LIMIT Mošimo, waga Ko ga... (リミット もしも、わが子が…, překl.: Limit kdyby, naše dítě..., 2000) jako Udó Takajuki (有働 貴之)
Hjakudžú Sentai Gaoranger (百獣戦隊ガオレンジャー, 2001) jako Fútaró (風太郎)
Haččóbori no Šičinin (八丁堀の七人, Sedm Haččóbori, 2001) jako Hikota (彦太)
Onna to Ai to MYSTERY (女と愛とミステリー, Žena, láska a záhada, 13. června 2001) jako Kazuki Učidate (内舘 一紀)
Saigo no Bengonin (最後の弁護人, Poslední advokát, 2003, epizoda 2.) jako Satoru Sakura (佐倉 悟)
Kajó Suspense Gekidžó (火曜サスペンス劇場, Úterní Suspenze Divadla, 2001) jako Akira Nagai (長井 晶)
Kočira Daisan Šakai-bu (こちら第三社会部, Místní zprávy, Sekce 3., 2001)
Engine (2005) jako Toru Sonobe (園部 徹)
Sensei wa Erai! (Učitel je skvělý!, 2008) jako Rin Takekura (竹倉 燐)
Scrap Teacher: Kjóši Saisei (překl.: Kousek učitele: Znovunarození učitele, 2008) jako Sugizó Irie (入江 杉蔵)
Čúšingura 〜Sono Gi Sono Ai〜 (忠臣蔵~その義その愛~, překl.: Čúšingura 〜Ta poctivost Ta láska〜 2012) jako Čikara Óiši (大石 良金 Óiši Jošikane)
Varietní představení
Šónen Club
Ja-Ja-jah
Hjakušiki
Jan Jan JUMP (16. dubna 2011-současnost)
TV vystoupení
Tensai wo Cukuru! Galileo Nóken (Vytvoříme génia! Galileo Nóken)
Gurunai (s Hikaru Jaotome, 5. srpna 2010)
Waratte Iitomo! (Spolu se smějeme, s Kótou Jabu a Hikaru Jaotome, 15. prosince 2010)
Hey! Say! JMUP TV vystoupení najdete na Hey! Say! JUMP.
TV reklamy
Deca Sports - Wii (2009)
Související články
J. J. Express
Hey! Say! 7 (dočasná skupina)
Hey! Say! JUMP
Hey! Say! BEST
Reference
Externí odkazy
Oficiální web Johnny's Entertainment
Oficiální web J Storm
Narození v roce 1991
Žijící lidé
Japonští zpěváci
Hey! Say! JUMP
Muži
Narození 15. dubna
Narození v prefektuře Čiba | {
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package com.marshalchen.common.uimodule.androidanimations.sliders;
import android.view.View;
import com.marshalchen.common.uimodule.androidanimations.BaseViewAnimator;
import com.nineoldandroids.animation.ObjectAnimator;
public class SlideInDownAnimator extends BaseViewAnimator {
@Override
public void prepare(View target) {
int distance = target.getTop() + target.getHeight();
getAnimatorAgent().playTogether(
ObjectAnimator.ofFloat(target,"alpha",0,1),
ObjectAnimator.ofFloat(target,"translationY",-distance,0)
);
}
}
| {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaGithub"
} | 2,458 |
{"url":"https:\/\/cslt.riit.tsinghua.edu.cn\/mediawiki\/index.php?title=%E6%96%87%E4%BB%B6:Probabilistic_Belief_Embedding_for_Large-scale_Knowledge_Population.pdf&oldid=15098","text":"# \u6587\u4ef6:Probabilistic Belief Embedding for Large-scale Knowledge Population.pdf\n\nProbabilistic_Belief_Embedding_for_Large-scale_Knowledge_Population.pdf(file size: 946 KB, MIME type: application\/pdf)\n\nThis paper contributes a novel embedding model which measures the probability of each belief $\\langle h,r,t,m\\rangle$ in a large-scale knowledge repository via simultaneously learning distributed representations for entities ($h$ and $t$), relations ($r$), and the words in relation mentions ($m$). It facilitates knowledge population by means of simple vector operations to discover new beliefs. Given an imperfect belief, we can not only infer the missing entities, predict the unknown relations, but also tell the plausibility of the belief, just leveraging the learnt embeddings of remaining evidences. To demonstrate the scalability and the effectiveness of our model, we conduct experiments on several large-scale repositories which contain millions of beliefs from WordNet, Freebase and NELL, and compare it with other cutting-edge approaches via competing the performances assessed by the tasks of {\\it entity inference}, {\\it relation prediction} and {\\it triplet classification} with their respective metrics. Extensive experimental results show that the proposed model outperforms the state-of-the-arts with significant improvements.\n\n## File history\n\nClick on a date\/time to view the file as it appeared at that time.\n\n Date\/Time Dimensions User Comment current 14:26, 8 August 2016 (946 KB) Fanmiao (Talk | contribs) 16:27, 22 May 2015 (463 KB) Fanmiao (Talk | contribs) 23:18, 20 May 2015 (463 KB) Fanmiao (Talk | contribs) 02:09, 18 May 2015 (461 KB) Fanmiao (Talk | contribs) 00:34, 18 May 2015 (461 KB) Fanmiao (Talk | contribs) 17:20, 17 May 2015 (461 KB) Fanmiao (Talk | contribs) 17:02, 14 May 2015 (456 KB) Fanmiao (Talk | contribs) 01:48, 13 May 2015 (456 KB) Fanmiao (Talk | contribs) This paper contributes a novel embedding model which measures the probability of each belief $\\langle h,r,t,m\\rangle$ in a large-scale knowledge repository via simultaneously learning distributed representations for entities ($h$ and $t$), relations (\\$...\n\u2022 You cannot overwrite this file.\n\nThe following file is a duplicate of this file (more details):\n\nThe following page links to this file:","date":"2021-05-16 12:50:21","metadata":"{\"extraction_info\": {\"found_math\": true, \"script_math_tex\": 0, \"script_math_asciimath\": 0, \"math_annotations\": 0, \"math_alttext\": 0, \"mathml\": 0, \"mathjax_tag\": 0, \"mathjax_inline_tex\": 1, \"mathjax_display_tex\": 0, \"mathjax_asciimath\": 0, \"img_math\": 0, \"codecogs_latex\": 0, \"wp_latex\": 0, \"mimetex.cgi\": 0, \"\/images\/math\/codecogs\": 0, \"mathtex.cgi\": 0, \"katex\": 0, \"math-container\": 0, \"wp-katex-eq\": 0, \"align\": 0, \"equation\": 0, \"x-ck12\": 0, \"texerror\": 0, \"math_score\": 0.8758806586265564, \"perplexity\": 6869.229034308241}, \"config\": {\"markdown_headings\": true, \"markdown_code\": true, \"boilerplate_config\": {\"ratio_threshold\": 0.18, \"absolute_threshold\": 10, \"end_threshold\": 15, \"enable\": true}, \"remove_buttons\": true, \"remove_image_figures\": true, \"remove_link_clusters\": true, \"table_config\": {\"min_rows\": 2, \"min_cols\": 3, \"format\": \"plain\"}, \"remove_chinese\": true, \"remove_edit_buttons\": true, \"extract_latex\": true}, \"warc_path\": \"s3:\/\/commoncrawl\/crawl-data\/CC-MAIN-2021-21\/segments\/1620243991269.57\/warc\/CC-MAIN-20210516105746-20210516135746-00313.warc.gz\"}"} | null | null |
Arbitration is a dispute resolution procedure whereby two parties in dispute agree (an arbitration agreement) to be bound by a decision of an independent third party (the arbitrator). The role of an arbitrator is similar to that of a judge save that, on principle of 'party autonomy' (whereby the parties can agree procedural and evidential matters), the procedure can be less formal. An arbitrator is usually an expert in his/her own right.
When appropriate take the initiative in ascertaining the facts and law.
Arbitration is private and often informal. Many property or construction disputes can be settled quickly and fairly by arbitration. A Chartered Surveyor arbitrator will be able to understand the disputed issues faced by the parties in a land, property or construction dispute.
Arbitration is carried out within a legislative framework with the current Act being the Arbitration Act 2010 which has replaced the Arbitration Acts 1954‐1998.
The arbitrator's decision, which is called the 'award' is final and binding. An arbitrator's Award has the same status as a Judgment or Order of the High Court and it is enforceable as such. It is not possible to appeal an arbitrator's Award and there are limited grounds for challenge under Article 34 of the UNCITRAL Model Law adopted in the Arbitration Act 2010.
Agreements to refer disputes to arbitration are often made in a lease or contract. If not, a separate agreement can be made by the parties after a dispute has arisen. | {
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Q: How to install a specific version of a Sensu plugin using `sensu-install`? In order to prevent that the latest version of a plugin will break the Production monitoring it should be possible to install a specific version:
Attempt
[user@host ~]$ sensu-install --help
Usage: sensu-install [options]
-h, --help Display this message
-v, --verbose Enable verbose logging
-p, --plugin PLUGIN Install a Sensu PLUGIN
-P, --plugins PLUGIN[,PLUGIN] PLUGIN or comma-delimited list of Sensu plugins to install
-s, --source SOURCE Install Sensu plugins from a custom SOURCE
A: It is possible to specify a plugin version while installing using sensu-install, e.g:
sensu-install -p sensu-plugins-disk-checks:2.0.1
Or if you want to install multiple plugins with version (note capital -P)
sensu-install -P sensu-plugins-disk-checks:2.0.1,sensu-plugins-memory-checks:1.0.2
Reference: #use-sensu-install-to-install-sensu-plugins
| {
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Q: Python 'requests' with proxy not working / leaking IP? (Strongly) related to: Requests Proxy not Working
I'm new to python so apologies for blunders I might've made.
Whatever proxy I choose, whenever I check my IP on http://www.whatismyproxy.com/ it displays my real IP and a "There may be a proxy"-note. I've tried dozens of different proxies from different sources...always declared as "elite". So apparently, the issue is with my code. Here goes nothing:
from lxml import html
import requests
base_url = 'http://www.whatismyproxy.com/'
def pagefetch(url):
httpproxy = "http://111.13.109.51"
proxydict = {
"http_proxy": httpproxy
}
page = requests.get(url, proxies=proxydict)
return page
def scrape1(base_url):
page = pagefetch(base_url)
tree = html.fromstring(page.text)
head1 = tree.xpath('//p[@class="h1"]/text()')
return head1
txt1 = scrape1(base_url)
print txt1
This is a simplified version of a scraper I'm currently working on, thus its slightly clunky.
To clarify, I have no issues connecting to the proxy(s).
Thanks in advance =) I'm using ubuntu 14.04 btw.
A: Your proxydict is wrong. It should be
proxydict = {
'http': httpproxy
}
If instead you wanted to specify your proxy as a parameter to your script, you would do this:
http_proxy='http://111.13.109.51' python my_script.py
| {
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Review: Season of the Witch
When it comes to Nicolas Cage performances these days, goofier is infinitely better.
Nick Schager
Photo: Relativity Media
When it comes to Nicolas Cage performances these days, goofier is infinitely better. Once a compelling comedic actor (Raising Arizona, Moonstruck) and, at his dramatic peak, an intensely off-kilter leading man (Wild at Heart, Leaving Las Vegas), Cage has detoured his career into big-budget action spectacles ever since The Rock, becoming a thoroughly phony presence whenever striving for subtlety, introspection, and recognizably authentic human behavior. Wild, bombastic, and severely self-serious are modes that now suit him far better, and not simply because they afford plentiful material for viral YouTube highlight packages; rather, Cage's affectation-overloaded turns bring idiosyncratic, electric personality to his B-grade genre vehicles.
Such is certainly the case with Season of the Witch, a relentlessly ineffective, often unintentionally amusing supernatural Crusades saga. Like last January's The Book of Eli, the film is a bit of disposable nonsense that melds tepid comic-book carnage with flimsy ideas about God, the Church, the role of religion, and the nature of good and evil. Yet in its favor, it's a throwaway animated by its uniquely bizarre headliner, who—sporting a scraggly goatee and long, dirty-brown locks that are more mid-'90s than mid-1300s—exerts most of his energy spouting ludicrous one-liners and trading contemporary-colloquial barbs with equally hammy sidekick Ron Perlman.
Directed by Dominic Sena with unnecessary color filters (everything's orangey! Now blue! Now black!) and Ridley Scott-ish blurry-battle cinematography, Season of the Witch concerns Behmen (Cage) and Felson (Perlman), holy warriors who desert the army over moral objections to killing women and children, but wind up being called back into church duty after arriving at a town besieged by a mysterious black plague. Suspecting that a girl (Claire Foy) is a witch causing the pestilence, the godly powers-that-be force Behmen and Felson—and some cipher companions—to transport her to a far-off monastery which houses a book that will destroy her and lift the curse.
As far as legendary odysseys go, Behman's is pitifully uneventful and lethargic, marked by a fleeting run-in with hellish wolves as well as what may be the cinema's all-time least thrilling rickety bridge-crossing sequence. Along the way, Cage's hero wrestles with guilt over the accidental murder of an innocent woman, indiscreetly leers at his caged young hottie cargo, espouses his disgust for organized religion's earthly leaders, and decapitates possessed monks with the aid of pitiful CG effects. In other words, it's The Crucible, except with real magic creatures, copious Cage bon mots (to Felson during one clash: "Whoever slays the most men buys drinks!"), and the incomparably ridiculous sight of Perlman head-butting Beelzebub.
Cast: Nicolas Cage, Ron Perlman, Stephen Campbell Moore, Stephen Graham, Ulrich Thomsen, Robert Sheehan, Claire Foy, Christopher Lee Director: Dominic Sena Screenwriter: Bragi F. Schut Distributor: Relativity Media Running Time: 95 min Rating: PG-13 Year: 2010 Buy: Video
Review: Country Strong
Understanding Screenwriting #67: True Grit, The Tourist, & Black Swan
Review: Monster Hunter Lacks the B-Movie Spark of Paul W.S. Anderson's Best Work
Review: The Croods: A New Age Is a Step Up that Still Leaves You Wanting More
Blu-ray Review: Martin Scorsese's The Irishman on the Criterion Collection | {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaCommonCrawl"
} | 291 |
Q: Change fontSize and text in tag using only one JavaScript function I am trying to change the fontSize and innerText using the same JavaScript function. I've changed the fontSize, but I also want to change the text inside the <h3> tag with the same JavaScript function. Is that possible?
<h3 id="h3_heading">This is H3 HEADING Click Below Button to Change Font Size</h3>
<button type="button" onclick="document.getElementById('h3_heading').style.fontSize ='72px'"">
Click me to change font size and Written Text Inside H3 Tag
</button>
A: Sure is, you'll need to change your onclick to point to a function in your javascript code i.e.
<script>
function changeFontSize(elementId) {
var element = document.getElementById(elementId);
element.style.fontSize = '72px';
element.innerText = 'Text you want here';
}
</script>
Your onclick would change to onclick="changeFontSize('h3_heading')"
A: I just removed that second " at the end of your event and it works. Additionally look at the rewritten onclick event for changing HTML.
<h3 id="h3_heading">This is H3 HEADING Click Below Button to Change Font Size</h3>
<button type="button" onclick="el = document.getElementById('h3_heading'); el.style.fontSize ='72px'; el.innerHTML = 'H3 changed!'">Click me to change font size and Written Text Inside H3 Tag</button>
| {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaStackExchange"
} | 5,362 |
Track, get insights in and engage your audience to make stories focused around them.
Plug in any keyword and see what real life questions are being asked on the internet. There are a lot of options such as filtering on country. | {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaC4"
} | 4,375 |
Community Health Maps
Information on Low Cost Mapping Tools for Community-based Organizations
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About Community Health Maps
CHM Online Tutorial
Technology + Youth = Change
by Chad Noble-Tabiolo
It all started in May 2013 when I watched the documentary entitled Revolutionary Optimists on PBS's Independent Lens. It showed how young people from a slum in Kolkata, India were able to map the deficient and unsafe water taps in their community, in order to plea with the government for more and safe drinking water lines. The film highlighted technology in an unconventional way. It showed GIS-technology as an innovative tool to mobilize youth for social change.
This heralded the beginning of a partnership with Map Your World to develop a mapping project in the Philippines in the summer of 2013. Through coordination with domestic and international partners, the youth mapping program was implemented in Southville 7 — an impoverished and neglected slum community, about three-hours south of metro Manila. The issues faced in Southville 7 ranged from lack of access to jobs, water and electricity to food insecurity and child and maternity health; and because of a lack of response from both the government and non-governmental sectors, the project was aimed to raise awareness and demand change.
In just a few weeks, a dozen phones were donated. Youth, ranging from 15 to 23 years old, were trained to go house-to-house to collect data. By the end of three months, 3000 families were surveyed and the needs of the community were mapped. Depicted below is Map 1, which shows the families who have direct access to water in their homes.
Map 1 – Families who have direct access to water in their homes.
Because of the unequal distribution of resources, it was evident who had direct access to water and who did not. Map 2 shows those families who did not have direct access to water. These families had to walk more than 1 kilometer to a communal water tap.
Map 2 – Families who had to walk more than 1 kilometer to access fresh drinking water.
Lastly, Map 3, represents the top four needs according to the three different subdivisions or sites in Southville 7. Collectively these maps and data provide an opportunity for proper and adequate planning for public health infrastructure and needs.
Map 3 – The top four needs according to the three different subdivisions or sites in Southville 7: Jobs, Water, Electricity and Healthcare.
The Android mobile phones used by the youth were powered by open-source applications for GPS-mapping and data collection. ODK Collect or Open Data Kit was the data collection tool utilized in the project. It can be found on the Android market. (NOTE: This tool is also described in the Community Health Mapping blog post on Field Data Collection). This tool is functional only after uploading a survey form that is created in Microsoft Excel and uploaded to the companion site www.formhub.org. The maps were created online with Map Your World, an online community mapping tool inspired by the Revolutionary Optimists documentary.
Map Your World Banner
In the end, the 30 youth involved in the mapping project were able to accomplish an endeavor that many people in their community had not expected. They were able to successfully map who in their community had access to water, electricity, jobs and vaccination for children under five years old, among others. They became leaders who are now equipped with leadership and technological skills that many in their community lack. They were empowered to raise awareness about the social injustices and health inequalities existing among them.
One of the community mappers with an array of Android phones.
The Southville 7's mapping work was primarily a vehicle for instilling hope, and the use of GPS/mapping-technology offered an opportunity for the youth to be the voice for their community. According to one youth, "For me, mapping is like knowing. Knowing the problems, and how people are coping with them. Through the work we can open the eyes of the people, not only the things that can help them, but things that can help us all."
Youth mapping their community
This entry was posted in Android, Apps, Case Study, Data Collection, Dynamic maps, Education, GPS, Web mapping and tagged Android, Case Study, GPS, ODK, Phillipines on November 13, 2014 by Geomenke.
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1 thought on "Technology + Youth = Change"
kurtmenke Post author November 18, 2014 at 12:27 pm
Chad Noble-Tabiolo graduated with an MPH in Native Hawaiian and Indigenous Health from the University of Hawaii at Manoa and a BS in Clinical Laboratory Science from Saint Louis University. At Hawaii, Noble-Tabiolo focused on youth empowerment to address the health of indigenous communities. In the summer of 2013, Chad was awarded a fellowship with the Honolulu and Manila-based NGO, Consuelo Foundation, to conduct a health assessment of a slum in the Philippines. Chad developed a youth leadership program where 30 youth was involved in data collection through the use of GIS-technology – a partnership with MapYourWorld. Currently, Noble-Tabiolo is posted in Lilongwe, Malawi as a Global Health Corps fellow for 12 months. He is working as a Monitoring & Evaluation and Communications Officer for a Malawian-based NGO called Centre for Youth Empowerment and Civic Education (CYECE). CYECE works in child rights issues, from sexual reproductive health and rights to child labour and child marriage.
The National Library of Medicine does not endorse any particular product, service, or developer.
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Analysis Android Announcement Apps APTR Case Study Conference Data Collection Data Visualization Dynamic maps Education Esri FAQ FOSS4G GIS GPS Internet Interview iOS Open Data Presentation Proprietary QGIS Review Software Survey Uncategorized Webinar Web mapping Workshop | {
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} | 2,673 |
#
# CONTENTS
Foreword
Introduction
1. Baby Business
2. Looking Back
3. Nurses at Work
4. Out on the Edge
5. Winging to Work
6. Animal Tales
7. Some Days are Diamond
8. On Death and Dying
9. Future Pathways
Acknowledgements
Frontier Services
CRANAplus
Bush Support Services
# About the Author
Annabelle Brayley trained as a registered nurse. She has lived on an isolated sheep and cattle station in Queensland and worked in rural and remote health. After retiring from health to pursue her passion for storytelling, she has become a regular contributor to RM Williams OUTBACK magazine. Annabelle lives in the small south-west Queensland community of Morven with her husband, Ian.
When Christine Patt (nee Sinclair) arrived in Halls Creek in 1965, nurses still communicated via radio.
# Foreword
'You know what you've got to do. Put a glove on, put your hand in and push the presenting part off the cord so that it can still pulsate. We'll come as soon as we can.'
It was 10.30 at night and I was the District Medical Officer on call for the RFDS in Alice Springs. I was responding to an emergency phone call from a remote area nurse in Ampilatwatja, 270 kilometres north-east of Alice Springs. She had a woman in established labour with a cord prolapse.
With the assistance of a local traditional Aboriginal midwife, she managed to give the woman some pethidine, put her on oxygen, got her to crouch on her elbows and knees on a bed and inserted her gloved hand into her birth canal. Holding the baby's head off the cord enabled lifesaving oxygenated blood to continue to flow to the baby.
Meanwhile, back in Alice Springs, we had taken off in a Navajo and were about ten minutes in the air when a safety light indicated the door hadn't closed properly. As per safety protocol we returned to base to check it out, delaying our departure for another agonising forty minutes. It was over two hours before we finally arrived in the community. I doubted the baby would be alive. At the clinic we found an exhausted nurse still in position and feeling paralysed from her fingers to her neck. I asked if she could feel a pulse in the cord but she was past feeling anything. When I listened with the Sonic-Aid, there it was: kathump . . . kathump . . . kathump. The baby was alive!
We got everything ready for a delivery and resuscitation. I still doubted the baby would survive but I phoned the paediatrician on call in Alice Springs hospital to warn him to be ready for a very sick baby. Then I said to the nurse, 'You take your hand out and I'll put mine in,' which we did, and I discovered that the cervix was fully dilated and the baby's head was well down. We turned the woman over onto her back and got her to push, and in less than a minute there was a very flat but alive baby on the bed. With a bit of help the baby was soon crying; it was wonderful!
We got back to Alice Springs about 4.30 a.m. with a perfect baby and a happy mother and the paediatric staff waiting for us wondering what all the fuss was about. Next afternoon I rang the nurse at the community and asked how she was. She said, 'After the plane took off, I helped put out the flares and then went back and cleaned up the clinic and got to bed about 4 a.m. At 6 a.m. someone knocked on my door asking for Panadol.' That's remote area nursing. Nobody in the community seemed to realise the magnitude of what she had done – she had saved the life of that baby and was still on call for everyone else.
Working in remote health is a huge challenge, one that I first became familiar with as a fifth-year medical student on an elective in the Southern Highlands of Papua New Guinea. During my time there, I delivered my first babies and learnt how to resuscitate newborns from the community midwife; learnt to cross-match blood under paraffin lamplight from a Pidgin-speaking health worker; and how to do lumbar punctures and set up external fixation of femoral fractures from local nurses. It was a 'see one, do one, teach one' school of medicine. I saw amazing things and gained many invaluable skills, and all from nurses and community health workers. It was a life-changing experience.
Six years in rural Africa as a young doctor further reinforced the fact that nothing is to be gained from keeping knowledge and skills 'secret' from any clinical staff. I learnt how to deliver breeches and do vacuum extractions from highly experienced midwives, and performed craniotomies and laparotomies under the guidance of a Russian trained Nepali surgeon. Sharing knowledge and skills across professional boundaries and traditional scopes of practice was essential to the way you worked in Third World situations. There was no room for professional hierarchies and egos.
When I came back to Australia I worked as a District Medical Officer in Alice Springs for eight years. As a result of my experiences in PNG and Africa, I was able to help establish the CARPA (Central Australian Rural Practitioners Association) Standard Treatment manual. It has become the 'bible' for remote area staff and, together with the CRANAplus procedures manual, demystifies emergency treatment and procedures, as is illustrated by another remote health story.
I was flying out to a single-vehicle rollover near Uluru. There was a nurse from Imanpa, a nearby Aboriginal community, who'd gone as first responder. I was able to talk to her on a satellite phone newly installed on the RFDS plane. She'd done the right thing and left the person in the car because he was a query spinal injury. He also had an obvious chest injury, judging from her description of the skin over his chest feeling 'crackly', indicating an air leak from a pneumothorax. She'd put an IV line in and a neck collar on, put him on oxygen and given him pain relief. She was on her own. We flew over the scene but couldn't land and had to fly to a nearby cattle station and drive back. As we were flying over, the nurse reported via the sat phone that the patient had deteriorated and was very distressed, and she could no longer feel a pulse. I said, 'You have to shove a needle in his chest.' She'd never done anything like that. I said, 'Just shove a needle in over where the chest is crackling.' She said, 'Oh, oh, oh . . . ' and then the line went dead. Once we landed it took another twenty minutes to get to the accident scene, where the nurse was standing with an expression somewhere between terror and triumph on her face. The man had a 16 gram needle sticking out of his chest and was alive. She had saved his life. Without that needle he'd have been dead from a tension pneumothorax.
There are lots of stories like this . . . and this book is full of them. Some will raise the hairs on the back of your neck, some will make you laugh, and some will make you cry. Others will tell you how it just is or has been, as the stories range across a century of nursing in rural and remote areas of Australia.
There used to be a standing joke that if you were a nurse and 'had a pulse' you could work in remote health services. That was never true, but it is true that the further away you are from metropolitan areas, the more likely it is that a nurse will be the most experienced health practitioner. Rural and remote areas have always relied on the character and skill of nurses, and will continue to do so. Well-resourced and well-supported advanced-practice nurse practitioners, training and working within genuine multi-disciplinary team environments, are the future. As you read this book you will realise that the nurses and health practitioners who choose to work 'out there' are well up for it.
Dr Nicholas Williams
MBBS, DRACOG
MSc(PHC), FAFPHM, FACRRM
# Introduction
When I was young and growing up in rural Queensland, I really wanted to be a hairdresser. However, my father thought young women should be nurses or teachers. So it was that I trained as a nurse. Obviously anyone can train for anything; however, true nurses are born rescuers and nurturers and either you are one or you're not. From the beginning, I regularly got into trouble for sitting on beds talking with the patients and listening to their stories, a predilection which ultimately led to the role I undertake now as a storyteller. Happily for all concerned back then, when I finished my training, I got a job as a receptionist with a shearing contractor!
Having started my training at Princess Alexandra Hospital in Brisbane, I finished it on a regional training program out of Charleville Base Hospital in south-west Queensland. The first thing that struck me in Charleville was how much broader my scope for practical learning was going to be. In a big city hospital, as a nurse, you often have to be in exactly the right place at exactly the right time to experience some of the really interesting incidents and challenges. And even then you'd have the luxury of more qualified people right there beside you to back you up. In the bush, as often as not, you're it; you're on your own. That's a sentiment reflected in this book by more than one very highly qualified city nurse who headed to the outback for an adventure and found themselves floundering and uncertain.
These stories span a century of nursing in rural and remote areas and cover a broad range of experiences. Over the weeks and months of collecting and editing these stories, I have worked some days with tears streaming down my face; other days I have howled with laughter. Every day, I've been humbled by extraordinary stories of bravery, courage, determination, motivation, commitment, comedy and tragedy, interwoven with the theme of ordinary people doing ordinary everyday things to ensure the primary health and wellbeing of their fellow man.
Nurses, as a breed, are generally taken for granted. Bush nurses are not only taken for granted, but they are also often completely overlooked, and yet the bush has traditionally run on nurse power. Not only do they nurse, but many of them also sell tickets in raffles, bake cakes for cake stalls, volunteer at sports events and help organise functions, all while keeping a watching brief on their communities. Nurses are often the lynchpins around which their communities revolve. Bush nurses are generally self-assured, creative and dedicated. In addition, most nurses who work remotely are highly experienced, innovative, resourceful and multi-skilled. By virtue of their isolation, they have to be.
Without doubt, we need more doctors in rural and remote areas. There are some things only a doctor can do. But the best doctors anywhere are those who recognise the value of collaboration; who understand that standing apart from multi-disciplinary solutions is counter-productive; who understand that their good outcomes often rest on the first response and preparation that was administered by a nurse.
And before any rural and remote ambulance officers and paramedics jump up and down about just who first responders are, you are represented here by Mick Lanagan, a volunteer ambo who's the guardian of the Great Northern Highway in Western Australia. There's also a couple of Aboriginal health practitioners, a couple of student nurses, a retired nurse who voluntarily ran the clinic in her community for decades, a carer and a whole gamut of nurses including registered nurses and midwives, both with and without remote area experience.
Bush Nurses is a celebration of all those who 'nurse' those of us who live in the inland of Australia.
Annabelle Brayley
# chapter one
BABY BUSINESS
One thing about babies is, once they're in there, they have to come out. The when, how and where provide the foundations of these stories about babies and the midwives who delivered them, sometimes under the most difficult circumstances, but always with the anticipatory joy of welcoming new life.
## Miracle Birth
central queensland
I am retired now, but I nursed for twenty years. Most of my nursing career was in the rural sector as I enjoyed the variety of doing a bit of everything, as opposed to at a large metropolitan hospital and having to choose your speciality. I also enjoyed the laidback attitude and knowing the people you were dealing with. I cannot go any further without mentioning those wonderful country morning teas made by the kitchen staff. Nothing would beat fresh scones with jam and cream after a busy morning. Of course, when the bureaucrats used to come, gone were the good things and out came the two-in-the-packet, Arnott's finest selection.
The story I'd like to share with you is one I definitely experienced personally. I was expecting my third child. Because we lived in the country, I was driving two hours to see the doctor as I was determined to have my baby in a private hospital in a larger centre. I had a thing about not having babies where I worked. It was something I vowed I would never do. After one particular visit with the obstetrician and feeling quite deflated and not at all empowered about my impending birth plan, I wanted to know why rural ladies could not be under midwives. After all, being one myself, I understand that they can offer a totally different approach to birthing.
I had discussed things with my husband and realised that, if I did in fact deliver in our local hospital, it would be advantageous as he wouldn't have to be away from the property for any length of time. Also, caring for two boys three and under would be much more achievable at home. As I was working at the time of this revelation, I walked into the director of nursing's office at our small hospital and asked her if she would consent to being my midwife. She agreed and then spoke with our medical superintendent, who reluctantly agreed. The deal was I had to have so many visits with him as well.
After that decision had been made, it felt like a huge load had been lifted from me. For the first time ever I felt that, if for some reason my husband couldn't be there, I was comfortable enough that my friend and colleague would act on my behalf and do the best for both myself and my baby, and I could just get on with the job of doing the hard yards.
When the big day actually came, we didn't realise it at first. Three weeks out from my due date my husband and I headed off to Bundaberg, four hours away, to do the last-minute shop and purchase a new vehicle. Arriving there at 9 o'clock at night after stopping along the way a few times for my Braxton Hicks contractions, we then spent time catching up with my husband's sister. Finally, at midnight we climbed into bed only to be rudely awakened by my waters breaking (something that had never happened in my previous births) an hour later. I woke my husband and told him we had to go home as I was going to have a baby. I phoned my midwife and told her I wasn't contracting so I was coming home to have this baby with the people I felt safe and comfortable with. After uttering an expletive upon finding out where we were and that we were four hours away, she said, 'Ring me when you get here!'
With that we were off and just like in the movies, it was cold and raining. All my husband could think (he confessed later) was, Every hospital we are passing is getting smaller! We arrived home in the early hours of the morning to a startled set of grandparents who were told, in answer to their question, 'What's happening?', that, 'We're having a baby!' My colleague came out and did a home visit and checked all was okay.
It was a strange labour, lots of stopping and starting, but eventually things progressed enough to head into hospital to have the baby. It could not have worked out any better, as my backup midwife happened to be working and a nurse I had total confidence in was there as well.
Then came the interesting bit. The labour progressed, but it was quite different from what I had previously experienced.
I finally started to push and delivered a baby boy but something was very different. I couldn't move and there was no sense of that relief you have after the baby is born. The whole world seemed to slow down and my recollection of events is as clear now as it was in the room that night. Right at that moment when the placenta is supposed to come out I thought, Gee, this is a big placenta, and just as I thought this, my mind registered that it wasn't a placenta at all. It was, in fact, another baby! Simultaneously my midwife said, 'Judi, don't do this to me!' All I could think was, Like I have any control! Clear thoughts like, No need to panic, we can just hold onto this baby until the placenta comes away, and We don't need extra clamps, came into mind and I couldn't quite believe how calm I was. It was a very surreal moment and there wasn't a dry eye in the room!
The next challenge was to get people to believe that we had really had twins. My husband is known as a bit of a practical joker and had been telling people there were two in there. He joked to people afterwards that I had had the choice of ticking a box: one was one baby at twelve pounds and the other was two at six pounds each. He told anyone who would listen that I ticked the second box. Even my mother wouldn't believe him until she came in and saw them for herself.
My plans of coming in, having a baby, then going home were totally thrown out the window. Fortunately they were a healthy size and took to feeding like ducks to water. Finally, a week later we were allowed to take them home. Our med super had a firm word to my husband about the need to look after his new precious cargo. We now had four under four – all boys.
Their births were an absolute miracle, and as a midwife it never ceases to amaze me seeing new life come into this world. From an analytical point of view it could be perceived as a near miss. Sometimes it is nice to be reminded, though, that women were created to have babies.
The feeling of warmth and security, knowing exactly who was assisting me in the birthing suit, I am sure contributed to the safe arrival of those boys. My other colleagues, who would bring me tea and toast in the middle of the night if I were up feeding, created a bond that is still strong to this day. Finally, to know that my husband didn't have to travel vast distances to see me and that our other children were able to sleep in their own beds was totally worth it.
Judi Bain, registered nurse and midwife
## Cyclone Baby
MARBLE BAR, WESTERN AUSTRALIA
I guess when you have been nursing as long as I have, you will have heard many myths about emergencies in the middle of storms, especially in the midwifery field.
In 2008, I was the nurse practitioner and sole nurse at the Marble Bar Clinic in north-west Western Australia. We received news around 5 p.m. that Cyclone George was bearing down on us. We had been aware of the path for some time and our town plan had been activated.
My job was to stay in the clinic and anyone injured or in trouble would be brought into me by police or FESA (Fire and Emergency Services Authority).
The clinic had survived cyclones before so I bunked down there feeling I'd be safe, even if a bit wet. We had gone onto red alert and the winds were screaming in at 125 kilometres per hour. The clinic, while withstanding the wind, was old and a few (too many) leaks developed with the horizontal rain.
At around 6 p.m., I received a call from a station about 50 kilometres out on the gravel road to Nullagine to say that a woman had gone into labour. Protocol was that women at thirty-six to thirty-seven weeks stayed in Port Hedland. This woman, who had reportedly just come visiting, was unknown to me. The station contact stated she was a Gravida 5 Para 4 (meaning this was her fifth pregnancy and she had already delivered four full-term babies, so it all might happen quite quickly) and she was due in one week.
As the manager of the station could not leave there, he wanted me to retrieve her. He had numerous families to protect on the station. So I made a bargain that I would come and meet them if they started driving her in. I contacted the police, who at this time were evacuating the local Aboriginal community, to see if they could provide a driver to come with me. No. I then contacted the local FESA for assistance. The local captain, Leona, agreed to come with me.
We set off into the wind, finding ourselves almost leaning forward to assist the troopy 4WD's forward movement. It was dark, black, wet and windy. Eventually we met the station car on the gravel road some 25 kilometres from Marble Bar. Both cars stopped close together and the four men in the station vehicle got out, opened the back of the troopy and literally lifted the lady onto the stretcher. I hopped in the back as well, then they heaved the doors closed and drove away, keen to get back to the station.
Leona got into the driver's seat and we both looked at each other a bit fearfully, as the troopy was tending to sway sideways in the wind. A cursory glance at the mother made me readjust my thinking. Her toes were curling with her pains and she looked like she meant business. I asked Leona to wait a moment while I examined her as best I could. When I got to the working end there was a little cap of hair waiting for me. Leona went to get out, to come and help me, but we decided that was not a good idea as the doors would probably pull out of her grip.
So she climbed from the front to the back, getting there just in time to receive the delivered child in our confined space. While I proceeded to go through assisting the work of third stage, Leona got the child settled with mum.
I am not sure if we were as aware of our movements and delivery as we were of the swaying troopy. However, all done, Leona crawled back into the front, turned the troopy slowly and headed back to Marble Bar. In contrast to our trip out, we were almost blown back. The mother spent two days at the clinic before she could be flown out. Mother and baby girl were both fine. I have never forgotten that night, and Leona in the ensuing years has gone on to become a registered nurse.
The joys of remote work are so rewarding. Your results are in front of you at all times. Sometimes you have to go about delivering the service in a different way, but what a way to get paid for having fun, doing what you do best.
Chris Haar, registered nurse, midwife
## Baby Magic
NORTHERN TERRITORY
I was working in a community in west Arnhem Land in February 1999; I'd been there for about twelve months. There was a young girl there who wanted to be pregnant, though she was a bit younger than we'd have liked, being only fifteen or sixteen years old. She came from a family of heavy drinkers but didn't drink or do drugs, and otherwise did everything right to make her pregnancy safe and viable. She just wanted to be pregnant, did all the right things and had turned up regularly for antenatal care. She had a good-size baby and everything went according to plan. We transferred our ladies out to Darwin at thirty-eight weeks for birthing; she was only a couple of days off going out and everything was going well when she went into spontaneous labour.
I am a midwife, as was one of my other colleagues, and the process was that we did the assessments and talked to the district medical officer in Darwin. Because she was at term and it was a first baby, we didn't do anything to stop labour and she just chooffed along doing all the right things as labouring ladies do.
The retrieval aircraft was coming and actually got to within ten minutes of us when they had a call-out to another delivery of twins, about as far away from us as they could go and still be in our health district. The DMO rang us explaining the situation and because our lady was well within the normal parameters of first stage of labour, the decision was made to divert to the twins, who were only at twenty-four weeks gestation. The aircraft turned around and went back the other way, which meant we wouldn't be able to transfer for several hours. We weren't concerned about that at all; all was going according to plan.
The labour progressed and the young lady became a little distressed as some women do. She was tired and a bit agitated and a bit over it, as happens when you're several hours into the whole thing. We had her cannulated as was normal in the circumstances and we got to the stage where, on examination, the baby was head down as it should have been. However, things didn't seem quite right, though we couldn't quite work out why.
She'd got to the stage where she was totally over it, she didn't want to be there, she wanted the baby born now, she wanted more pain relief and she wanted to run away. She got quite anxious and bit one of the staff. Her grandmothers, who were there supporting her, told her off. She proceeded to rip out the IV cannulas and then she did run away, despite us and her grandmothers telling her it wouldn't change anything; the baby still had to come out!
Next thing her husband brought her back and she wouldn't let him leave. He put her down on the bed and she clung onto his arm. In this community there was this whole thing around women's business and usually the mother would come with supporting women, in this case her grandmothers, and usually there wasn't a moment when they were not touching her and talking to her to help her through the delivery. Men were not a 'normal' part of the birthing picture. But anyway, he stayed with her, which was lovely, and he was there when she delivered a perfectly normal baby. The thing is, it was the first time, in my experience, that an Aboriginal man had been there for the delivery of his child.
The look of wonderment on his face was just magic and serves to constantly remind me of the privilege that is given to me, being involved in a family's birth.
Monica Ostigh, registered nurse and midwife
(remote area nurse)
## New Life
KALTUKATJARA (DOCKER RIVER), NORTHERN TERRITORY
The policy in remote Australia is that all pregnant women go to a main centre such as Alice Springs at thirty-eight weeks gestation for 'sit down', to stay at a hostel until their baby is born. Federal funding pays for their travel in and out once baby is born, and for two weeks' accommodation, extended by another two weeks if warranted. Only if it is a first baby is there funding to pay for an escort, company while you wait out those last few days and weeks.
Many women have no-one to leave their other children with. They worry that their husband will be lonely for them, and maybe have an affair while they are gone. There is often no family in town to sit with them and visit during the day. They may have no money as their benefits are going back to their other children, back at home. It can be a long, lonely waiting time, punctuated by antenatal visits to strangers they are meeting for the first time.
Many of the women in remote areas of Australia suffer from compromised general health, including illnesses such as diabetes, sexually transmitted diseases and rheumatic heart disease. These put them in a higher risk category when it comes to medical management of pregnancy and birth. Women want healthy babies and don't wish to put themselves and their baby at risk.
English may be the third, fourth or fifth language of these women, and interpreters are a rarity rather than part of routine health care. Even simple explanations give women more information to make a better-informed choice about how they wish to manage their conception, pregnancy and birth. Under current government policy, choice regarding place of birth is denied to women living in remote Australia.
Every year there are women who choose not to access health care during pregnancy or who present late for the birth of their baby. The most important factor in enabling women to access care during pregnancy and birth is the trust they have in their health care professional. Once trust is established, care can be delivered in many ways. Flexibility is required on both sides.
One girl was so shy about being pregnant and coming to the clinic, the midwife, who was also the RAN, used to go to her house, on a Friday afternoon when it was all quiet and no-one was there, for her antenatal checks. The girl went to 'sit down' but returned before the birth of her baby; she was lonely and scared. She came to tell the midwife and then returned again for 'sit down' having been able to touch base with her family.
Another woman refused to believe she was pregnant when the test was positive on a routine health screen. For many months she kept insisting she had gallstones (as she had seen them on an X-ray) and wasn't pregnant, but happily came for all her antenatal checks. At about thirty-two weeks gestation she decided she was having a baby and wanted to have it in the community. This was a community that had no night evacuation facilities and at that time only one RAN, who was also a midwife. She was carrying a large baby and hadn't gone for any scans – as she wasn't pregnant and had already seen her gallstones on an X-ray! The RAN talked to her about the risks and she went to 'sit down', eventually birthing a son.
On another occasion the RAN was called out at about 11 p.m. by a community woman who said she had a severe pain in her face. Several women were attending, one of whom was heavily pregnant and sat on her seat squirming and fidgeting as the RAN looked at the woman who had called her out. Nothing wrong with her face; the pregnant lady was in labour and a baby was born in the early hours of the morning.
Babies born to healthy mothers in the community generally remained in the clinic for twenty-four hours. They then went home and received daily visits from the RAN for about three days and after that were brought by their mothers to the clinic for review. With only one RAN on site, this was extremely tiring, as other community members did not stop being ill because a baby had been born. However, those babies and mothers did much better than those born away from family support and their community.
On one home visit, to see a new baby less than forty-eight hours old, the RAN saw the baby's three-year-old cousin, leaning over it and giving it a big hug. The cousin was covered in active chicken pox sores. The RAN was sleep deprived, having had only three hours' sleep since the baby's birth. She wandered back to the clinic, thinking, 'I know there is something bad about chicken pox and babies, I had better ring the doctor on call.' The doctor on call was very casual, saying, 'I don't think it is a big concern but I will ring the paediatrician.'
Two minutes later the phone rang with a frantic doctor on the line. If the baby showed the slightest symptoms of being unwell it needed to be evacuated immediately and in the meantime, how fast could we get some immunoglobin? The Alice Springs hospital had some immunoglobin in its pharmacy; however, release had to be authorised by a senior doctor in Darwin.
As usual, these fusses happen on Friday afternoons. Luckily the RAN's husband was in Alice Springs and was able to collect the immunoglobin from the pharmacy and drive home, an eight-hour road trip. As soon as he arrived the immunoglobin was drawn up and injected into the baby. Later blood tests showed the mother was non-immune so had no protective antibodies to pass on through breast milk. The other children in the house caught chicken pox from each other, but the baby remained chicken pox-free and grew up into a happy, healthy girl.
Women in remote Australia need appropriate information so they can make informed choices about conception, pregnancy and birth. They also need support in the choices they make, rather than being blamed or treated differently because they don't wish to follow the one-size-fits-all policy of the health department. Healthy babies can be born in remote settings; women need access to skilled practitioners who can provide good perinatal care and support women with accurate information regarding possibilities and risks. Health care professionals also need to be supported in the care they provide, so that adequate staffing levels are available and women can receive care from health professionals not distracted through sleep deprivation or with other health needs.
Lyn Byers, midwife, nurse practitioner
(remote area nurse)
## Stepping Up
COOBER PEDY, SOUTH AUSTRALIA
When I first started working as a missionary nurse with the Bush Church Aid Society in 1971, I was sent to relieve, for two weeks, in the opal mining town of Coober Pedy in South Australia. Without a doctor in the town, we relied our own medical knowledge, although we could always telephone or radio the Flying Doctor at Port Augusta for advice, and one of them did a weekly visit to Coober Pedy. In many ways we were very much alone and I thought I would never cope. However, after two years working at Cook, on the Trans Australian rail link halfway across the Nullarbor, and Laverton, another mining town in Western Australia, I was much more confident.
Originally there had only been two nurses at Coober Pedy, but on my return in 1973 there were now four of us working at the hospital: one doing outpatients, one doing inpatients and helping with outpatients, one in charge of the domestic scene and the fourth one off duty. We also had some help here with the cleaning and hospital washing by employing local workers. All the cooking was done by us and my cooking was still not brilliant, but I managed.
After my initial feelings of inadequacy two years prior, now I suddenly found the medical work in Coober Pedy intriguing. It was no secret that midwifery was my favourite and when I heard there was a mid in, it took all my resolve to stay out of it, even when I was on my days off. One day, a French lady presented in early labour with her first babe. As a rule, we never delivered first babies in the outback because the mothers had no previous obstetric history. This lady had been booked to go to Port Augusta a month before her due date. She was just about to embark on that journey when the labour started, and she presented at the hospital. 'I will not interfere unless asked,' I said to myself, but God already knew how much I wanted to be involved and provided me the ability to achieve.
The plane was sent for and when it arrived the mother was in such good labour that the plane turned back. Much more dangerous to deliver mid-air, it was decided. Not long after, the labour became obstructed, and we had a real dilemma on our hands. 'Would you be able to do a forceps, Audrey?' Carol asked. I thought, Would I? Just give me the chance! I had assisted with many and knew the procedure off by heart. The flying doctor spoke to me by phone. 'Whatever you do, don't pull hard,' he said. But he gave me permission to go ahead.
Gowned and gloved, I assessed the situation. The membranes were ruptured, the patient in labour, the bladder and bowel empty, the cervix fully dilated, the foetal heart present but dropping, and there was no time to lose. We explained to this lady that this was not usually our job, but in her case there was no other safe option. She gave her consent. I checked the position of the presenting part. Thank God it was a head, but which way was it lying? I had examined many women in labour but never with the head down so low. The feeling was quite foreign to my fingers as I searched for some recognisable marker. Suddenly I had it – a tiny ear on the upper side, to the patient's right. I now knew that this baby was in the best position for a successful forceps delivery.
I cut the episiotomy as I had done so many times as a staff midwife at the Royal Women's Hospital in Melbourne. The forceps lubricated, I gently inserted them one at a time, as I had seen done countless times before, but they didn't fit together and I knew they must before I could proceed. I took them off and tried again. This time a perfect fit and I knew I was ready. The next contraction came but I remembered the doctor's words so I didn't pull. Nothing happened.
Babies are tough when coming through the birth canal and when the passage is a bit narrow, as it was in this case, as long as the position of the head is safe and the forceps application is correct, I knew that more pressure could and must be applied to save the baby. The baby's heart rate was slowing and I knew there was no longer any choice. The next contraction had to be it so, when it came, I pulled with all my might, successfully extracting quite a blue little babe.
A quick assessment told me she may never breathe without some kind of intervention. I was comforted by the wise words of Dr Glynn White, one of my lecturers when I was doing Infant Welfare in Melbourne. 'All you need is oxygen and suction . . .' he'd said.
I complied, and with the help of frog breathing, another trick I'd learnt in my training days, I resuscitated the babe to a pink, screaming bundle and turned to deliver the afterbirth and sew up the episiotomy. The whole process was a tremendous blessing, not the least of it being that there was not a single forceps mark on the baby's face. What a miracle. A year later, the parents brought their little girl back to see us. There she was, fit, healthy and meeting all her milestones.
Audrey Aspeling, retired registered nurse and midwife
## The Arrival of Annabelle . . .
NORTH-WEST QUEENSLAND
It was Sunday afternoon on 9 September 1988 and we were at home on our cattle and sheep station 160 kilometres south-west of Mount Isa, and everyone was busy getting ready for the annual shearing. We didn't have a two-way radio. My mum, an art teacher, was up visiting from Sydney to help for two weeks.
Our fourth child, who was due in two days, was in a hurry! My waters broke and contractions began at about four minutes apart. I called my friend and neighbour Mandy to ask if she would take me in to Mount Isa when I got to her place. So with help from Mum and our nine-year-old daughter, Belinda, we bundled the other two kids into the wagon and headed off to Mandy's house, 40 kilometres down the dirt road. Eager to help, Mum said she'd drive, but by the time we reached the mailbox 2 kilometres down the road and ten long minutes later, I declared that I'd drive because I'd be quicker.
Driving up over the ridge to Mandy's turnoff, I breathed a sigh of relief to see Mandy waiting for me, followed by a much bigger sigh and prayer of thanks when I realised she wasn't alone. Bless my friend; she had called the local bush nurse at Dajarra. This wonderful grandma, Lesley, was waiting to help us; with her husband Norm driving the ambulance parked beside them, they were ready to take us to Mount Isa. I asked Belinda to drive Mum and the other two kids home and climbed into the back of the ambulance with a sense of peace, even though I knew our baby was in the breech position and that things could get tricky!
Lesley examined me and promptly asked Norm to step on it because this baby was well on its way to being born. Then she told me that an ambulance from Mount Isa was on its way to do a halfway meet so she and Norm could return to Dajarra as soon as possible, but that there was no way she was going to hand us over; she promised to be with us all the way and that the other ambulance could follow them back to Mount Isa! Lesley admitted that neither she nor Donna, the Mount Isa nurse, had ever delivered a breech baby but that didn't matter because our Lord was watching over us all.
The sun was getting low on the horizon and all the cattle and roos for miles around were on the move looking for a feed. Many of them were searching the roadside for grass to munch on, so we travelled slowly to avoid a collision with them.
It was tough going with contractions every minute or so; agony and sweat followed by a very short reprieve. Lesley lovingly cared for us and encouraged me. Her touch was gentle, her voice soft and calm even when she told me off for not already being in town for the past three weeks! She understood my dilemma: me wanting desperately to help my husband to get ready for shearing; three kids to care for; a governess too vacant for words and my lovely mum no help at all.
We met the Mount Isa ambulance and they were told to follow behind us. We were very nearly there, only 20 kilometres to Mount Isa, just rounding the bend to cross over Sybella Creek, when our baby decided it was time to join the world! Norm pulled off the side of the road as we began our first push. Lesley held my hand and wiped my forehead as Donna opened up the ambulance doors to join us.
This was agony beyond belief; our baby was presenting one foot and one knee, time and time again! What to do? Norm had called Mount Isa hospital for a doctor to come out and help, but that would take time we didn't have! One more contraction, a flood of agony, and I screamed out at the top of my lungs, 'God help me!' As I called out, Lesley says she heard God tell her to put her hand inside me, push back the knee and pull out the hidden foot before the next contraction.
With no time to waste, Lesley told Donna to move and did as she was told just as the next contraction gripped me. Out slithered our baby's feet, legs, body, shoulders and arms, with only her head to follow. Lesley and Donna were pleased but frowns still crowded their faces. A flood of relief swept over me just as the next contraction gripped me. Three, four, five contractions followed one on top of the other but our little girl's head remained stuck.
We were all struggling when Lesley realised that she had to get my bottom high up off the bed. One more contraction and still no head; I was lifted higher still as she gently pleaded with me. Exhausted and terrified, we managed to lift my bottom higher still as the next contraction overwhelmed me and our little girl's head slipped out. I collapsed back, trembling with exhaustion and excitement, but only for a split second because, as I looked over at Lesley and Donna, I saw that their faces were etched with grave concern and desperation.
I asked how our little girl was and was told that she had died. Working deftly, they quickly cut her umbilical cord. Donna then laid our little girl across Lesley's knees and she began cardiac massage. As Norm placed the tiny oxygen mask over her tiny porcelain white face to give her some much-needed air, Lesley told him quietly that only 100 per cent oxygen would do.
Pleading desperately in my mind, I told God that we loved this little girl He had given us and would be delighted to be able to raise her but that, if He needed to take her home, then we would accept His will. All was deathly quiet as Lesley and Norm did their jobs.
Finally a slight shadow of pink began to wash out the porcelain white in her tiny face. We all looked at each other in wonder and thankfulness as the pink flooded her little body and finally she began to try to wriggle and cry. Time to take stock; check for a pulse and the steady rise and fall of her chest. Yes, our Annabelle Lesley was alive!
Thank you, God, and His faithful nurse Lesley. Bless you, Lesley!
Pip Hacon, mother and grazier's wife
Postscript: Annabelle is now twenty-four-years old, married to a lovely bloke, lives in Toowoomba and thoroughly enjoys her job as a registered nurse in Accident and Emergency at Toowoomba Base hospital.
## The Magic of Midwifery
THE RIVERINA, NEW SOUTH WALES
Being a midwife is an amazing vocation. Birth is a miracle and to assist women to give birth and care for their new baby is an unbelievable privilege. My hospital is a major referral centre for a large region in rural NSW. Our catchment runs to the west, south-west and north-west for more than 300 kilometres across the plains, to the east 150 kilometres or more in the mountains. Currently 850 babies per year are born in the area, but one year recently there were 926 babies.
Many of the women we help are high risk, transferred from smaller bush hospitals and isolated areas. Some women are actively labouring on arrival. We are expected to be multi-skilled and have the ability to work in each area, from the midwives clinic to the birth suite, and the special care nursery. We work in antenatal and postnatal areas and, when necessary, give phone triage advice.
Every day I am challenged; every day I learn something new and not one day goes by when there has not been something to interest and/or amuse me and my colleagues.
A young doctor who worked some gruelling overtime hours went home dog-tired. He thought his wife had left him a stew in the refrigerator and he ate it. Next day he discovered that he had eaten the cat food. We thought he might come to work meowing.
A few years ago a woman presented to our office and said to the midwife, 'I am here to be "seduced" by Dr L.' Dr L was a well-respected doctor who had been in practice for many years. The midwife had trouble not laughing. She knew that Dr L was planning to 'induce' the woman's labour.
The midwife's sense of humour often carries her through the plain hard work on a shift. Her ability to remain calm and focused is important in an emergency situation. Midwives support each other in the difficult times and the good times. They deal with a balancing act created by the need to care for pregnant teenagers, older first-time mothers, expectant women from isolated areas, high-risk women with multiple medical problems, and women who give birth with apparent ease.
Midwives never know what situation is going to walk through the door and what they will have to deal with in any one shift. The challenging and the unexpected problems keep them on their toes and keep their brains stimulated beyond their wildest dreams. They need to make rapid assessments when there is a deviation from normal, and involve the doctor promptly as time can make a difference.
Life in the maternity unit can be either a feast or a famine. On one memorable occasion, we had ten babies arrive in three and a half hours. The first arrived at 1 a.m. and the last at 4.30 a.m. Extra midwives and a GP with obstetric qualifications were called in to assist in the birth explosion. Every room was taken, corridors were lined with people and one baby was delivered in the waiting room. Despite the sudden influx of babies there were no complications with any of the deliveries.
Triage telephone calls are a lifeline to expectant mothers and are treated seriously. Each call is documented and recorded for later reference. One such call was from a first-time expectant mother who was carrying twins. At thirty-one weeks she went into threatened premature labour, her waters broke and she had occasional contractions. She lived more than an hour's drive from the hospital where she was booked to give birth and was very distraught when she phoned. The very first thing I said was that she needed to calm down for the sake of herself and her unborn babies, and then I reassured her that everything would be all right. I collected the details and suggested she phone 000 for an ambulance, and assured her the staff would be waiting for her to assess her labour. The woman lived in the mountains to the east and, at night, kangaroos were a serious road hazard.
Eventually the expectant mother and father arrived, her labour was stabilised and she was flown north to the nearest tertiary care hospital with neonatal intensive care beds. That day she gave birth to a girl and a boy, and they were later returned to our special care nursery till they had grown and were feeding well. The new mother told me that my words reminding her to calm down for the sake of her babies, and my reassurance, were the most important things she heard that night. She was able focus on keeping her babies inside as long as possible rather than going out of control with fear.
One of the most important rules that I live by is to follow my gut feelings and to listen to the mother. One of my two daughters had four babies, felt very well during each pregnancy and gave birth without any problems. When she became pregnant with her fifth child she would say to me, 'Mum, this baby is going to die before I can push it out.' I heard these words on a regular basis. Her protection instinct was alert all the time.
Towards the end of her pregnancy she phoned me to say that the baby was hardly moving. I told her to go to her local hospital and have the midwives monitor the baby. She did so but remained anxious, so I phoned a tertiary centre some distance away and discussed the issue with the antenatal clinic there. They were very concerned at the history I gave them. They assessed her and the birth was induced. The little girl was a scrawny baby with little fat on her body. When the umbilical cord was checked they found two true knots in it, which had cut off nutrients during her development. In the opinion of the obstetric team, had she been left another day she would have died. Today I have a vibrant granddaughter named Meg Louise Grace. She was named Grace as her mother and I believe that it was only by the grace of God that she survived the journey of pregnancy.
Apart from some women presenting with a phantom pregnancy and thinking they are in labour, cryptic pregnancies are not uncommon. A young woman who lived in the country, had never been pregnant and had had no period for three years, was being treated by a naturopath for 'liver failure' and 'ascitis' (excessive fluid in the abdominal cavity). Her condition seemed to worsen, she continued to gain weight, experienced air bubbles and movement in her stomach and felt generally unwell, despite having a liver cleanse and other naturopathic treatments. She went to her local doctor who diagnosed her as thirty-seven weeks pregnant, and three weeks later she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Her husband was very excited about the results of his wife's worsening condition!
Another woman who did not know she was pregnant went to her doctor after three days of diarrhoea and pains. He sent her to the maternity unit, as she was 5 centimetres dilated with bulging membranes. She obviously had had no antenatal care as she did not know she was pregnant. Initially, when the doctor phoned, he thought she may have only been twenty-eight weeks pregnant. It was estimated that she was actually close to time as her baby was well developed.
All experienced midwives have attended many memorable births, and often women see you in the supermarket and recount their birth experience to you and remember the role you played in their lives. Many keep me informed of the progress of the child I assisted into the world, and I am invited to various family events and milestones of that child or adult.
I was the midwife for my younger daughter Mary-Jo and assisted her to give birth to her daughter Hannah-Rose and her son Andrew. They are two births that remain etched in my memory. These children continue to remind me that I am their Mama and their midwife. There is a special bond between us.
Every birth is a moving experience, whether the baby is born alive or not, and every family has a tale to tell. One of the saddest times for the midwife is when she is unable to find a heartbeat and the expectant mother knows her baby will not be born alive. Supporting the mother and her family through the labour and birth and then seeing them spend time with their baby is a privilege, but also can be emotionally draining. Creating memories for them in the form of footprints, special quilted blankets or embroidered small clothing is important.
While I love my job here in NSW, one of my greatest joys has been to travel to a number of developing countries and work as a volunteer in midwifery, maternal and child health. Most recently (2012), I have been on a midwifery safari to East Africa to visit tribal groups and nomads in Uganda, Kenya and Tanzania and learn of their birthing practices. The world of midwifery is truly amazing.
Mavis Gaff-Smith, registered nurse and midwife (Mavis has published several books including Midwives of the Black Soil Plains, No Births on Monday, Riverina Midwives and Midwife on a Mission.
Midwife Mavis Gaff-Smith once worked a shift in her maternity unit in the Riverina, New South Wales, during which ten babies were delivered in three-and-a-half hours.
# chapter two
LOOKING BACK
Looking back across a century of nursing, much has changed but much remains the same, most notably the dedication, determination and commitment of the people who choose to work in rural and remote areas of Australia.
## 'My dear, if you were a horse . . .'
EAST GIPPSLAND, VICTORIA
The copper-tipped arrow shot up quickly into the darkening Gippsland sky. Behind Black Mountain the sun was sinking, leaving the creek, our little wooden house and the surrounding land in shade. My older brother Bill called out to us: 'Quick – come outside and look at this!'
My mother and I rushed out onto the verandah, leaving the baby sleeping and my sister Juliet reading inside. Bill was standing by the lucerne paddock a few hundred yards away. 'Look at this,' he said. With all his strength he drew back his bow, fitted a second arrow and released it. In a smooth, graceful arc the arrow flew upwards. As it rose higher and higher we saw the arrow-tip gleam like a spark of fire when it caught the golden light of the sun.
It was beautiful. 'Ooooh!' we cried, watching the bit of flashing gold in the sky above the shadowed land. The arrow with its brightly shining tip seemed to stay up in the sky for a long time before beginning its descent back to earth.
Just then my sister Juliet wandered out on the verandah, still reading. The arrow gracefully arced down and down and down. With stunning rapidity – thwock! – the arrow shot into Juliet's upper arm. With a sharp, shocked little scream, she dropped her book. By the time that I heard the book thud onto the verandah, our mother was at Juliet's side.
At times like that, back in the 1950s, in this remote part of Victoria, with no electricity and the car away through the day wherever Dad was, our mother's nursing skills came in handy. Inside, she washed and dressed the wound. It was while this was happening that my sister, looking at the layers of fat under the punctured skin on her arm, said, 'Gosh – we're just meat!' Apart from this existential shock, the only enduring effect was the small scar on her upper arm.
We were living on our sheep farm in Suggan Buggan (Soog-en Boog-en), in East Gippsland. It's a wild and beautiful place on the edge of the Snowy River, 133 kilometres north of Orbost, which is 375 kilometres east of Melbourne. It was so isolated that when we first arrived the kingfishers by the river were not scared of us. It is still isolated because, even now, not many people are keen to brave the terrifying road to the Suggan Buggan River.
We had a horse called Coco, a cow called Prim, and Bruno, the first of a series of calves. Sometimes we had pigs. There was an orchard. My mother, Roma, grew vegetables, looked after the chooks and topped up our vitamin C by making rose-hip syrup. Juliet and Bill milked the cow even though Roma said, 'Girls shouldn't milk cows before adolescence, because it will make your hands big and no man will want to marry you!'
She taught us by correspondence school. As well as this, Roma looked after anyone in the surrounding district who needed medical help. Injured or orphaned animals also received her attention. She rescued hurt birds and fed them with an eye-dropper. She rescued joeys and baby possums and fed them with a baby's bottle. When they grew a little, we children would stretch dolls' jumpers over their delicate limbs and suede-like little torsos as they looked up at us with their big trusting eyes. Two orphaned possums, Shadow and Shy, lived in an enormous cage and ate scraps from our hands.
Cattlemen drove their herds of cattle through our property every spring until the Snowy River Hydro-Electric Scheme made it impossible to get through that way. Bill Pendergast was one such regular, a tough old guy. One time, when my mother asked him how he was, he told her that he had broken his foot. She expressed concern and wanted to do what she could to mend it, insisting that he must stay until it was better.
'Oh, no,' he said, 'I'll be off after me tea, thanks. I'll just keep me boot on till it mends itself.'
After Roma died, in 2004, Juliet and I discovered two diaries from her time in the bush, scribbled in old exercise books, which she had kept in the 1950s until she needed prolonged medical attention herself, for her ailing back.
In the first diary is an account of her treating our nearest neighbour, two miles away, Viv Richardson, when he managed to spill some molten lead in his eye. Another time she fixed him up after he cut his hand while sharpening his axe.
She also treated our cousin Keith Davies' burnt feet when he ran through the ashes Bill had run through moments before. The area Bill had run through had cooled and the area Keith chose was, unaccountably, still hot. Keith's family had a dairy farm at Gelantipy, which Keith runs now.
On Wednesday, 5 May 1954, Roma wrote that my father:
. . . was working on the house, knocking down the scaffolding when a three inch piece of board with a nail in it fell on his left hand, thumb side of wrist. Perfect puncture wound, very sore. I applied antiphlogistine poultice, after shaving it. Poor boy couldn't sleep. I did [illegible] and gave him aspirin and tea at 2 a.m. I pray to God that it doesn't give trouble. I have visions of amputation or tetanus or something.
Roma did a splendid job of looking after everyone but the responsibility clearly weighed on her sometimes: 'I gave poor Bill his H.I. of tetanus toxoid and am sitting here worried sick about a reaction. God, I hate having to give them to everyone,' she noted on 17 July 1954.
She gave the family polio injections in 1957 at Gelantipy. Some years before she died, she recalled how awful it felt to inoculate me because as she aimed the big needle at my arm, my usually placid baby face changed into an expression of disbelief, both comical and heartbreaking to see.
Roma's own health became increasingly worse as her back pain intensified. She often lay down with a hot water bottle – as hot as she could stand it – to ease the pain. Once, Juliet was filling the hot water bottle when she accidentally dropped the heavy kettle on the bench. Boiling water splashed onto the bottom half of her face. At Juliet's shriek, Roma leapt up and dealt with the resulting burn. Juliet remembers the skin peeling right off. She can't recall what Roma did, but there was no scar at all.
There are diary entries about Roma's back pain as early as 1954 when we were still living in the one-roomed hut by the river, waiting for my dad to finish building our house. On 6 May that year she wrote:
The washing seems to rob me of all my time. I stand in the river and slosh away. I boil here and cart things down wet and rinse them and hang them on a line by the river . . . and how my spine screams.
When she spent a day helping our dad to put in fence posts, she wrote, 'I love it but I pay for it.'
On 30 May 1954 she wrote, 'My back is feeling battered.' In August of that year she saw a Dr Stafford in Bairnsdale and then another doctor in Melbourne, and wrote:
The X-rays showed deformed vertebrae (congenital) which slipped forward after Penelope's birth etc. He will operate when I can get a bed – one to two months. Hell. How can I put up with the time? Very pleased and happy that that is my pain's cause. I was scared it would be TB of the bone, osteomyelitis or something.
The next entry is Friday, 26 November 1954. She wrote about having morphine four-hourly for two days after the operation.
I couldn't have borne the pain without the injections . . . They did my back and turned me and sponged me four hourly (sometimes six hourly and I nearly went mad with the pain and discomfort). I couldn't sleep and had to lie there hour after hour unable to move to lift my back one inch off the bed . . . when the nurses came they were angels and couldn't do enough for me.
A year later, she was staying with relatives in Sydney and seeing doctors there. She wrote in December 1955 that her cold turned into pneumonia, with pleurisy, and that Dr Rowe was disappointed in the state of her back and that she must rest, and he ordered a plaster jacket for six weeks. By 13 February 1956:
Dr Rowe said he had done all he could for me and I mustn't lift anything heavy and generally take it carefully for a year or two; to wear a surgical corset and come to see him in a month's time. I am very dissatisfied at his taking no notice of the sore bones in my back and on returning here I cried and cried – I went to see Dr Ryan here and told him the whole story. He suggested an X-ray and made the appointment. I feel very depressed at my future life because the Dr said my back would go again if I didn't take care. Also he said if I had another baby the spondylolisthesis would come again and this time plaster wouldn't fix it. He said I would never be strong and never be able to nurse again, a dreadful blow to me because it is my security.
A month after her return home, her back was already weakening and aching very badly. The following day it was so bad that she stayed in bed all day and our dad had to do all the chores. He did his best, but I remember him plaiting my hair so tightly that I could hardly blink.
In July 1956, Roma found that she was pregnant. During the pregnancy she had a terrible time with her back. My brother Patrick was born in Sydney and she was away for nearly a year. The doctors thought that she wouldn't be able to walk again. After a long while, she did walk, and then after more time could do so without crutches, but she always had trouble with back pain.
Soon after July 1956 the diaries stop. There were many more visits to doctors. Roma liked her doctor's bedside manner with a dash of black humour: an oft-repeated story, always told with much hilarity, was how Dr Maxwell looked at her X-rays then looked at her, and said: 'Well, my dear, if you were a horse, I'd take you out to the paddock and shoot you.'
Not long before Roma died, she told me she didn't regret a single day of living in the bush. She said that not one child ever said that they were bored. During all that time not one of us kids ever saw a doctor. We were not exposed to the usual measles and mumps of childhood and we didn't get colds or flu. And Roma dealt with inoculations, and accidents like arrow wounds. It was a wonderful part of our childhood and although Roma was very unlucky with her back, we kids were lucky to have the experience of living in the isolated bush, and we – and the people on neighbouring properties – were lucky that our mum was a nurse.
Penelope Hanley, daughter of Roma, registered nurse
The ever-resourceful nurse Roma Hollingsworth from East Gippsland in Victoria 'didn't regret a single day of living in the bush'.
## Nursing on the Wild Side
COOMA, SNOWY MOUNTAINS, NEW SOUTH WALES
I began as a nursing aide in Cooma, NSW, in the late 1950s when I was about sixteen. It was a small town then, with its claim to fame being that it was the headquarters of the Snowy Mountains hydro scheme. My stepfather, mother and two half-sisters and I lived on the outskirts of Cooma and my stepfather worked on the scheme. My mother – being a lively city girl – hated the place, missing the bright lights of the city.
It consisted of a main street with the usual shops selling food and clothing for the assortment of townspeople and outlying farms. Then there were the local pubs. I remember two in particular, and a couple of seedy nightclubs, that were frequented by the migrant workers. The hospital was called a community hospital and by today's standards was very small and basic, especially considering the population explosion that the Snowy scheme brought to the area.
It was a rough, tough town. The inner perimeter was taken over by the accommodation blocks for single men and a large mess hall to feed them. There was natural enmity among the diverse nationalities, many of whom still carried grievances from their homelands. Some formed gangs and there was fierce competition among them to see who could complete tunnelling first. The local boys hated them for what they saw as their cosmopolitan sophistication and ability to attract the local females.
The hospital, apart from caring for the local and nearby farming communities, also catered for the workers who did not require intensive medical attention. Serious cases were ferried to Canberra or Sydney.
On certain weekends, 'the girls' from Sydney would arrive by train and be transported to the camps where, I believe, there would be lines of men waiting for their services. Gamblers would also arrive to run games. I met one young man who showed me a suitcase filled with money. These weekends usually elicited fights, quite often with knives, which would result in injuries requiring hospital attention. Many of the migrant workers were young and, when in pain, wept with homesickness and loneliness.
My duties, as a dogsbody, were mainly boiling instruments, including needles and anything else that was reusable, and rolling bandages, which had been autoclaved along with the other dressings. Then there was the pan-room, dreaded by all junior nurses. I was terrified of duty on the men's ward and remember vividly the time I had the horrible embarrassment of picking up a male urinal incorrectly and spilling the contents over the ward. The men were so kind as I mopped up, as was the ward sister. I was mortified.
The women's ward had quite a few cases of dreadful bed sores – some so large you could fit your fist in them. These were generally older ladies from the outlying farms, who were bedridden for whatever reason and too proud to ask for help until their wounds needed prescriptive medical attention.
I was very young, awaiting acceptance as a probationer at a teaching hospital. Most of the girls were nursing aides like me, but I intended to go on to become a trained nurse. I only stayed in Cooma for a short time, as it was not considered a great place for a young girl to be working at the time. Still, I have many wonderful memories, such as going to a dance at Adaminaby via Jindabyne, before the area was flooded. When my time as an aide was up, I left for Brisbane and began my training as a nurse.
Beverley, retired registered nurse
## Halls Creek Heroine
HALLS CREEK, KIMBERLEY REGION, WESTERN AUSTRALIA
Mary Elizabeth Rogasch (Lil) was born in 1880 in Gawler, South Australia, and educated there. She trained at the Children's Hospital in Adelaide from 1906 to 1909. In December of that same year she received her first certificate of registration as a nurse, and in 1910 she earned a certificate in obstetrics from the Queen's Home. She also passed the necessary exams to become an Inspector of Nuisances.
Lil was a committed Christian and in 1917 was asked by the Australian Inland Mission to undertake a temporary position as a nursing sister in Oodnadatta, an isolated settlement in the north of South Australia, following the resignation of the incumbent nurse. After six months there, she travelled to Hergott Springs (Marree) to relieve Sister Clapton of the District Trained Nurses' Association for six weeks, enabling her to have a much needed break.
In 1918, Lil was given a permanent appointment with the AIM and along with an unqualified companion, Miss Mary Madigan, who was also appointed by the AIM, set off in August 1918 to face an unknown future as the first nursing sister at the newly established hospital in the remote settlement of Halls Creek, in the Kimberley region of Western Australia.
Lil and Mary travelled by train to Perth, where they met Dr Holland, who helped them buy some hospital supplies and home comforts for their accommodation. The SS Bambra took them from Fremantle to Wyndham, where they arrived at the end of September. From there they were to be met and escorted to Halls Creek. However, no sooner had the ship docked than an urgent message came to the Wyndham telegraph station from Halls Creek. There had been another tragic event in the settlement when Mr Ward, the storekeeper and Honorary Secretary of the new Hospital Committee, had been shot and wounded by an attacker who then fatally shot himself.
A race against time was needed as Sister Rogasch was rushed 250 miles (400 kilometres) south by a hastily requisitioned car. She treated the patient and brought him back to the doctor and hospital at Wyndham. It was a five-day round-trip over shocking terrain.
Mary Madigan sat out the five days in Wyndham. Then, once again for Lil, the two ladies headed south in an entourage of two buggies, each with four in hand, drivers, escorts and extra horses. This trip left Wyndham on 29 September 1918 and took almost two weeks. They camped out most nights or stayed at stations. The trip was very rough going through dry, sandy creek beds, timbered country and bushfires. At one stage, the ever-venturous Lil even enjoyed an exciting time driving the buggy a few miles with Tommy, the normal driver, closely monitoring the experience. On 12 October they finally arrived in Halls Creek.
The town consisted of a court house, post office, hotel, store, police station, miner's institute, and two cottages. The population was quoted as about 'twelve white people, including five children'. Visiting 'cattle-punchers' and diggers called in at times and numerous Aborigines were camped outside the township.
The hospital was the former miner's institute, which was originally built in 1898 and was made of mud brick with an iron roof. The building was completely refurbished. A new floor was laid and the walls given a fresh white wash. In her diary, Lil described it:
[Half] our building is a ward and a small room adjoining, which we use as a dressing room. Verandah all around. This half is enclosed with house canvas: you enter the door and there is our table with its homemade bookshelf lined with zinc to keep out the white ants . . . .two cyclone beds made presentable with our swag covers . . . a few cushions and a green gum bough in a rum jar constitutes our sitting, writing and rest room. Around the corner – no partition – are our dining table and chairs. Further is an annexe made cosy in the evening with a dark blue cambric table cover with a border of cretonne stitched around it. Same material covers our crockery shelves and (used) for hiding the pot box and little curtains for our window. No glass is put in small windows, a swing board affair instead. A large bowl of mignonette on the table really completes an inviting corner. We put the lounge and easy chair stovewards in the winter evenings. It is quite nice to see a tired postman resting there before he starts off for his resting place for the night . . . He had just come in from his 198 mile (318 kilometres) trek and had to go on 9 miles (14 kilometres) where there was good feed for his horses. His own bed was to be a (stock) trough filled with grass.
One room was a four-bed ward with whited walls and there was a small dispensary room. The kitchen was for both the patients and the staff. The white outside walls made the establishment look clean and inviting. A verandah ran around three sides and it was here that the patients preferred to sleep and rest.
The hospital quickly settled down and on 11 November 1918, which was in fact Peace Day, the official opening of the Halls Creek Australian Inland Mission Hospital was held. The Australian flag was raised on a pole in the hospital yard. All the settlers and some from further out attended; the national anthem was sung and speeches were made. Now the hospital could get down to do the work for which it was set up.
Initially, many people came from far and wide just to see and welcome the ladies. Patients were frequent and though some were very reticent about being cared for by a woman, they soon got over this feeling and began to savour the kindly face and tender care bestowed on them by the sister who was always in readiness for duty wherever she was needed.
Beds were occupied for up to four weeks as many of the men who came in from camps were suffering from malnutrition. Mary and Lil cooked hearty soups and meals and built the men up. A string of outpatients came in from far and wide and were treated for eye troubles; cuts and gashes that needed stitching, while sore heads and bodies were treated following drunken brawls. Broken limbs and other injuries – often as a result of a horse fall – were common. Then there were the more serious problems where the patient had to be stabilised and taken to Wyndham by buggy. On many occasions Lil would have to consult with the doctor by morse code over the telegraph line to get instructions for treatment.
She reported after the first ten months:
This no doubt seems to you a small population to need the help of a hospital, but the passing population is great and I do not think that a day goes by without someone coming in or going out . . . We have had seventeen indoor patients staying an average of twenty-eight days. When men are better, we feed them up: that makes the average stay longer than in a hospital where outside comforts are near.
When patients were admitted into the hospital ward they often preferred to be out on the verandah – they were quite used to sleeping outdoors. Lil was on duty twenty-four hours a day every day. Mary Madigan was a big comfort and help. Sometimes, when there were no patients, Fred Tuckett, who was probably the most prominent resident, sent Lil or both of them off for a walk or a horse ride while he took on the responsibility of dealing with any necessity for a few hours. Lil, however, was never too far away.
Thus Lil gave three years of dedicated work to Halls Creek. In 1920, Mary Madigan returned to Adelaide and for the next year, Lil was joined by another fully qualified sister, her own youngest sister, Sister Beatrice May Rogasch.
In 1923, Lil married Mac McCombe and they lived in Wyndham for eleven years before moving south to farm in the wheat belt. Lil died in Adelaide in 1967, aged eighty-six.
Adapted extracts from Sister Mary Elizabeth Rogasch – Halls Creek 1918–1921 by Joan Rogasch.
Pioneer nurses Mary 'Lil' Rogasch and Mary Madigan helped establish the first hospital in Halls Creek, Western Australia, in 1918.
## Angels of the Bush
MARANBOY, NORTHERN TERRITORY
I trained in General Nursing at the Brisbane General Hospital from 1915 to 1919 and then did my obstetric training at the Lady Bowen Hospital, also in Brisbane.
I was a member of the congregation at the Ithaca Presbyterian church. After speaking with both the Right Rev. James Gibson and the Rev. John Flynn, I was encouraged to join the Australian Inland Mission (AIM).
I asked Miss Doris Dunlop if she would accompany me to whichever centre of work the AIM sent me. We had trained together at the Brisbane General Hospital. She agreed and on 3 September 1920 we set off on an ocean steamer for Darwin, a trip that took nine days. We were the first Queensland nurses to join the AIM.
From Darwin we travelled by train and then car to Maranboy, which was to be our home for the next two years. The small tin field had a permanent population of about twenty, including five other white women. Although a number of travellers passed through Maranboy, mostly drovers and cattlemen, in all the time we were there, we did not see one white woman traveller.
The hospital was two storeys of galvanised iron set with some wire gauze for windows. It looked just like an oversized meat safe. We lived in the top floor and our patients stayed on the ground floor, which had a concrete surface. The humidity was generally about 90 per cent and the temperature between 38 and 44 degrees Celsius. We could never obtain cold water and never wore a cardigan the whole time we were there.
There was no Flying Doctor or pedal radio back then and the nearest doctor was about 320 kilometres away. We could only contact him by telegraph from the post office at the nearby tin mine.
The Aboriginal camp was not far from the hospital and on many occasions we could hear their corroborees and the persistent drumming of the didgeridoos well into the night.
Malaria was a common complaint among the few miners left in Maranboy, and they were very thankful to the AIM for the facilities for care and treatment at our hospital. Apart from the miners, our patients were people brought often long distances in to us after accidents or suffering illness.
Our stores arrived every six months by horse-drawn wagon, though we had a mail delivery every six to eight weeks. We lived on tinned foods. Fresh meat was very rare and even salted beef, carefully wrapped in a hessian bag, was a delicacy brought to us very occasionally by drovers passing by.
Soon after we arrived, some men from Mataranka brought us a puppy of mixed breed to be our protector. Named Wolf, he was a very intelligent dog and alerted us to the arrival of the postman or any travellers while they were still some way off. He would prick his ears forward and we would know to be on the lookout for visitors.
Our other friend and protector was Paddy, an Aboriginal man of about forty. He had been with the previous sister and was very proud of his position as 'hoshipal boy'. He regularly went walkabout but always came back. He would return looking quite fearsome, carrying his spears and with sticks through his nose. He called me 'Mitta Dokka'.
At three o'clock one morning, two gentlemen, Mr Francis Birtles – who, incidentally, was also the first person to drive from London to Melbourne – and Mr Roy Fry, were brought to our hospital for treatment after their car went up in flames about 130 kilometres from Maranboy. It took about three days for them to reach us and besides their third-degree burns, they were suffering from severe shock and were delirious. Sister Dunlop and I nursed them continuously for many weeks and I don't know how they recovered as their clothes were burnt right into their flesh. Eventually they were well enough to resume their journey to Darwin.
Another time, we treated an Aboriginal man who had fractured his leg. His wife, Polly, carried him to us and we put his leg in a splint. He would not remain in hospital and next morning we found him hopping around outside with the splint gone and his leg wrapped in bark. He went bush, and we understood he arrived at a station some weeks later wearing nothing but a lace blouse we had given to Polly and the crutches made for him by one of the men at the field.
One old sundowner came to us once with his foot crushed. One of his toes became gangrenous so we amputated it and insisted he stay in hospital overnight. He had never slept in sheets before but he duly recovered despite this and went on his way. A few weeks later he arrived back with his horse. It had a cancerous growth that he thought we might be able to cure. This was the only time we had to refuse a patient.
Our hospital was the centre of what little social activity there was in the district. We had a small harmonium and on Sunday evenings we sang hymns to the patients and any other callers. A party of politicians passed through once and spent the day with us. Later they sent us a gramophone and some records. This was a great joy to us but I think an even greater joy to the Aborigines who would stand around the hospital, laughing at our music until the tears rolled down their faces.
No padres or doctors came near us. There were no such people around then. Later I realised we were not far from what became known as the Rum Jungle. Little did we think there would eventually be a vast mining enterprise in the area.
Maranboy and the surrounding area was alive with long black snakes with red bellies. Sipping our afternoon tea one day, we saw Paddy become very excited. He told us there was a snake under our table! We moved and he quickly grabbed it and whirled it around his head before its head flew off. Later, we saw him proudly bear it back to his camp, where he ate it.
We had both suffered from attacks of malaria and towards the end of our time, my malarial attacks became serious indeed and I had to write and ask to be relieved of my duties. Sister Dunlop remained for the last couple of months and later married Mr Harold Giles, who became the manager of Elsey Station of We of the Never Never fame.
It was not until I was leaving that we were told that we had been known, for many hundreds of miles around, as Angels of the Bush. Paddy's sorrow at my departure was most touching and he wanted to come to Queensland with me to make sure I arrived safely. His actual words were, 'More better Mitta I come along your country.'
Adapted from the memoirs of Jean Mittelheuser (nee Herd), registered nurse, AIM
## Finding Fitzroy Crossing
FITZROY CROSSING, KIMBERLEY REGION, WESTERN AUSTRALIA
It was January 1970 and I was on my way to Fitzroy Crossing in the Kimberley region of Western Australia. My dream, since I was young, was to be a nurse and as a nurse, to work with the Australian Inland Mission (AIM). The year I spent at Fitzroy Crossing was adventurous, challenging, fascinating and fulfilling. At the same time it was demanding, nerve-racking and stressful. When I look back now I realise that the rest of my nursing career was influenced by this amazing experience.
I had a short stopover in Perth for a very brief orientation that included two days of instruction on how to take and process X-rays. Two days and we were expected to be able to take readable films to diagnose fractures or congested lungs. Well, I think the only decent X-ray I took for the year was one of a sealed package containing the engagement ring my boyfriend asked his mother to choose for him! I just had to know what the ring looked like before I opened it in front of him.
The wet season was in full swing when I arrived. I flew from Derby to Fitzroy Crossing on the mail plane. I had never been on a small plane before and was just a little anxious when the pilot pulled out a book and opened it on his knees as he took off. I wondered if he needed the instructions in order to fly the plane. However, we arrived safely and the heat hit me like a wall as I stepped out onto the airstrip. The temperature was over 43 degrees Celsius for the first two weeks I was there. I felt like a wrung-out rag as I tried to take in all the advice I was given by the current staff.
The hospital was staffed by three nurses, with another nurse going out to the stations running 'field clinics'. We would look after inpatients, outpatients and cooking on a weekly basis. The outpatient nurse would do any night work that was necessary. I have never worked anywhere else where all the staff went to bed at night and the patients would come and get us if we were needed. This was, of course, as long as there was no-one ill enough to need constant care.
Cooking for the staff, any visitors and the occasional white patient was a challenge. We were inexperienced cooks as well as inexperienced nurses. Our Aboriginal staff cooked for the rest of the patients in their own style on a camp fire. Our meat was brought in from one of the stations usually on the back of a truck covered with gum leaves. The sight of a full leg of beef being dumped on the table was a bit daunting. I had no idea of the different cuts of meat, so it was all cut into sections and frozen. None of us knew anything about freezing food and we just placed the meat onto trays and it was stored in the freezer uncovered! When we needed meat we partly thawed it, cut off enough for the meal and then refroze the rest. No wonder the health inspector shook his head in despair.
Our patients were mostly Aboriginal. Many of the children suffered from severe gastroenteritis or respiratory infections. An episode of gastro could trigger a downward spiral and they became extremely sick very quickly. The level of dehydration determined when the plane would be sent out so that the child could be evacuated to the Derby hospital. Although we consulted with the doctors, we were their eyes and ears so it was up to us to do an accurate assessment.
Our doctors were from the Royal Flying Doctor Service (RFDS). They would come out once a week or fortnight to run a clinic. In between clinics we could consult with the doctors via the two-way radio. There was an open medical session each morning. This meant you were describing symptoms to the doctor knowing that dozens of people may be listening in too. To save embarrassment we soon learnt to fully assess the patient before we went on air. When we had an emergency and felt we needed a patient evacuated, we could ring the RFDS at the Derby hospital and get direct advice. If it was to be a night flight, the medical superintendent would come out on the plane himself. He would ask us, 'Is it was worth risking my life?' What a dilemma it was to be confident enough in your assessment to say 'yes'.
A night flight meant lighting the airstrip. This would mean we would have to locate the local police officers and ask them to light the flares. When we heard the plane overhead we would load the patient into the back of the hospital ute and drive out to meet it. It was a small town and a night flight gave the locals a bit of excitement. We, however, just hoped we had made the right decision.
Knowledge of things mechanical would have been helpful but I had none. As well as the hospital ute to maintain, we had a generator for power and a diesel pump for our water. I became stressed every time I had to crank the pump to turn it on. We turned the generator off during the day after the chores were done and also at night. One night I came back to the nurses' quarters, after turning off the generator, and noticed a movement across the track. I called for one of the other girls to bring a torch and there in front of me was a huge king brown snake! We kept long-handled shovels around the buildings so we grabbed one each and with great trepidation we killed the snake. I was shaking like a leaf.
In the wards we had low metal stretchers with a mattress, sheet, pillow and a grey blanket. However, at night you would find the patients sleeping on the floor huddled around a hurricane lamp. During the day they would sit out in the garden under the trees. We would have to go out and find them to give medications or do dressings. It was such a contrast to our big sterile hospitals down south.
A piece of equipment that caused much hilarity and anxiety was our gas 'autoclave'. It worked like a pressure cooker. We would place a wrapped bundle of linen and instruments in it, clamp down the lid and light the gas. Steam hissed out a valve at the top and we had to adjust a lever to control the pressure. The bundle was wet when we took it out and we had to place it in the sun in order to dry the linen. I'm glad our modern-day 'infection control' nurses were not there to see it!
The annual race meeting and rodeo gave us all some entertainment. Although we had to look after any patients and deal with any injuries, we still had time to see a good bit of the action. The station people for miles around would attend so it was a real social occasion. The Race Ball was a highlight and I remember sewing a special dress for the night. We were in great demand as dance partners as there were more men than women in the area.
So many memories come back to me. We swam at beautiful Brooking Gorge, had dust storms that rolled in across the paddocks and left behind a terrible mess to clean up and experienced tropical storms that provided spectacular sound and light shows. We lived beside the mighty Fitzroy River and were awed by the sight of it in flood.
We were young nurses with limited experience volunteering to do a job that stretched our capabilities. It was a privilege to work with the people of the area, both black and white. We did not realise it at the time but we were part of history and are proud of the work we did.
Beryl Scott, retired registered nurse
## Well Done, Bush Nurses
WARBURTON, FAR EASTERN WESTERN AUSTRALIA
Nursing in an isolated community is certainly different. There were four of us, all double certificate registered nurses from Queensland, New South Wales and Western Australia. We met in Perth to do some preliminary training in nursing protocol and basic vehicle maintenance. We also enjoyed our last taste of shops, dining out and bright city lights.
Somewhere on the journey to Warburton, out in the desert about 1500 kilometres north-east of Perth, we each recognised the enormity of the task ahead. However, our enthusiasm for this adventure never waned. We hardly knew each other and now we were going to be living and working closely together for the next year or so, in a place we didn't know, with people who spoke languages we didn't understand. It was a challenge that called for patience, respect, good listening skills, friendliness and a good sense of humour.
We learnt a lot about each other on the long drive out to Warburton, along rough, sandy roads towing a large caravan that was to be our sleeping quarters until the nurses' home was built. Dust, flies, taking our turn at driving and cooking, adjusting to the heat and never-ending landscape were all part of this team building process. My three companions were good women, great nurses, reliable under pressure, and I learnt much from them in the time we spent at Warburton.
A new hospital and nurses' quarters was to be built at Warburton. In the meantime, the old hospital was our home and workplace, though we continued to sleep out in the caravan. Other staff at Warburton included school teachers, community welfare department workers, government liaison workers, office staff (for processing pensions, mail, telegrams, and meteorological info four times daily, etc.), a maintenance man and some missionary linguists. The Aboriginal community consisted of several tribes who mostly lived in humpies, though some lived in stone houses. There was a substantial dirt airstrip, a community store and a fuel facility.
Nursing care was available twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. We held clinics every morning and evening and we delivered babies and kept patients in hospital overnight when necessary. One of our priorities was to establish a community nursing program. Even though we could usually find someone to interpret when we needed to, we needed to learn the languages, so we took lessons with the missionary linguists. These were interesting and helpful, though we could only have lessons at night when we were probably not at our best for learning.
Each morning, we used the radio schedule with the RFDS in Kalgoorlie to consult with doctors, knowing that they were available any time for emergencies as well. Doctors visited on a regular basis for clinics, a highlight for us professionally and socially. The visits ensured good patient care and entertainment for the whole community. Most patients, no matter how sick, didn't want to leave their country and people to go to the unknown; however, emergency air transport to hospital in Kalgoorlie was always available, when required.
I remember my very first clinic. The noise of people yelling to each other outside, mothers trying to quiet crying children inside and lots of people in queues waiting their turn, the smells, noise, confusion and laughter were so different from hospitals I had worked at previously. One little boy had a dead bird in his hand and a big smile on his face. He kept twisting the bird's neck and could hardly wait to get out to a fire to cook it! It was amazing how quickly one felt at home in all of this. The Aboriginal kids loved to colour in, so we had lots of kids on the verandah at the weekend to colour in the drawings we had prepared. It was great to hear their chatter.
Inter-tribal fighting was a problem. Some fights lasted for hours with lots of yelling, men with spears, women wailing and people running back and forth. We learnt to treat spear wounds, suture machete cuts and tend cut heads from where women had been hitting themselves on the heads with stones.
There was a power plant generating electricity during the day. We all learnt patience while treating the paraffin fridge with lots of tender loving care. The telephone system was the old party line around the town area, with the phone having separate mouth and ear pieces and the wind-up handle. Communication with the outside world was done by mail or telegram. Our donkey (hot water system) worked really well, especially when we remembered to light it and keep the fire going! Clearing blocked pipes and drains was all part of the romance of working in the bush though, mostly, we could find someone to help us out.
A mouse plague seemed to last for months; I've never seen so many mice in all sorts of places. While eating a meal you could hear them running over the dishes on the sink. In bed, the mice would run over you, stopping for a chew on your hair. We had traps to catch up to four mice at a time, and you'd hardly have walked away when the trap was full and ready to be emptied. Many a scream was heard at night while doing rounds by candlelight, as a nurse stepped on an unsuspecting mouse or it jumped out in front of her on a work bench.
There also seemed to be nearly as many lean and scruffy-looking dogs. I often saw dogs sneaking a lick or two of flour while it was being mixed in the bowl ready to make a damper. Rubbish bins were 44-gallon drums suspended between two posts, which made them easy to empty. Many clever dogs would climb into these bins for a free feed. The drums rocked back and forth while the dog was inside. Meanwhile, some of the children, armed with their slingshots of tyre rubber and stones, would find the swinging, squeaking bins and wait in readiness to shoot at the dogs as they climbed out. The dogs were safe most of the time and it provided lots of entertainment for these developing little hunters.
Church was held on Sunday mornings after clinic, out in the dirt under two large trees. Men and women sat separately and the dogs sat around the outside of the women and children. Often we nurses were late to this gathering and had to work our way through the dogs to a spot in the dirt. Dogs and children went off playing during church but in a place where mothers could watch them. Church was all in language delivered by the Aboriginal pastor. We recognised lots of the songs by their tune, not the words. It was good to sit with people in church, taking time to worship God, and feeling the sense of God's presence with us out in the middle of Australia.
When communion was held the pastor pointed to another place and gave the hand sign of drinking. So we went too. Sitting in a circle in the dirt, the bread was a small damper which the pastor took and broke in half and walked around giving each of us a pick at it. The wine was cold, sweet, black tea in a well-used billycan. Very tricky to put the billy to your mouth and take a sip without estimating badly and spilling it down your front, leaving little for the rest of the group.
Because of the isolation, regular trips to town were non-existent so short holidays, out of the community, visiting tourist sites some kilometres away were taken in turn by the staff. These were a necessary part of keeping our sanity and freshness to our work in the bush. On weekends, there would be a get-together, with other white staffers at someone's house, for meals, games or singsongs and sharing experiences. These were good fun nights.
A Presbyterian pastor, who was a talented bagpipes player, visited our community once. It was unique to hear him playing his bagpipes as he walked round the streets of the town area, dressed in his kilt, with children following and mimicking him and laughing with the sheer exhilaration of this novelty. I have never heard the bagpipes sound so good.
There was always letter writing to friends and family back home, keeping up with correspondence, listening to music, reading and generally sharing stories and other mayhem in the nurses' quarters. We'd sometimes visit one or other of the Aboriginal camps, just sitting and talking together with the women and sharing stories. It was an amazing way of learning from each other and building friendships. The power plant engine needed to be turned off at night, so walks in the cool quiet of the night to the pump shed were a welcome break from routine. The stars seemed so close and brilliant, in the vast expanse of the night sky, in the centre of Australia.
Finding your place in the team and contributing consistently through the good and the bad is essentially the backbone of a good unit. We didn't always get it right – we are human after all – but respecting each other and having the fortitude to politely confront issues before they got out of hand created a better working atmosphere. My team mates were good at this.
Living in an isolated place, making the most of the life you had, was a satisfying lesson to absorb. We learnt to appreciate the beauty of the desert, its colours, vastness, ruggedness, amazing big skies, wildflowers and wildlife. Shivering in its cold, sweltering in its heat, dealing with the flies, working together, providing good-quality health care without hesitation, we were indeed bush nurses.
Marilyn Watson, registered nurse and midwife
## Cut Loose
DERBY, NORTHERN WESTERN AUSTRALIA
While staying in Derby, I met a nurse called Maisie who was having her orientation before taking up the position of the first community nurse at Halls Creek. Maisie was from Victoria and quite a bit older than most of the nurses there. I remember thinking at the time that she seemed ill-equipped for the task ahead of her, as she had never been off a bitumen road before.
I later asked Maisie what preparation she'd had for this job. None! Had she had any experience driving a 4WD vehicle on dirt roads? None! Did she have any mechanical knowledge? None! Could she change a tyre if it had a puncture? Yes, her brother had a Land Rover just like the one she drove and he had shown her how. He had demonstrated it all very fast so she made him do it again step by step while she wrote it all down on a card that she kept in her glove box. At the time, she told me she hadn't had to use it.
It amazed me that the health department could send a person to travel those roads with no experience and no training to deal with whatever she might meet.
I have since worked for the health department and I am not so amazed.
Adapted from 'The Four Wheel Drive' by Liz Robson, Louisa Downs Station, 1969–1971, courtesy of the Kimberley Nurses History Group publication, Boughsheds, Boabs and Bandages: Stories of Nursing in the Kimberley
## Forever a Nurse
NORTHERN TERRITORY AND WESTERN AUSTRALIA
After doing her training in Perth, my mum, Midge Morrison (now aged eighty-four), went off to Tennant Creek in the Northern Territory to 'nurse the world'. She met my father there and wherever he gained employment, either in a town or managing a station, the employer got Mum for free as she would start a clinic for the place, including the Aboriginal camps. She'd have clinic evenings, baby days, immunisation days and, of course, doctor's day when the Doc would fly in after us kids got the goats and old Bluey, the horse, off the airstrip.
One time, in 1968, at Mainoru, we were awakened by a couple of Aborigines who'd been brought up to the homestead: a sick old woman and an ill two-year-old child who had come in from the bush way north in Arnhem Land. We were the first white people they had ever seen.
Mum was clinic sister in Pine Creek for many years, operating out of an old silver bullet caravan parked at the back of the police station. This wasn't always the best place to be as some of the Aborigines wouldn't seek her medical help in case the policeman saw them and locked them up on some outstanding warrant.
From Pine Creek, she ran a highway beat from Adelaide River all the way down to Katherine. As there was no ambulance at Pine Creek, if any patients needed transferring to either of these places, she would simply take them in her Mini Moke and flag the ambos down on the road, meeting them halfway.
One time, a road train with three trailers hauling fuel rolled and when Mum got to the scene of the accident, the driver was sitting up against a tree. When Mum asked him what happened, he said he'd been checking out the inside of his eyelids! Another time she thought a severely bashed woman had her brains exposed, but it turned out to be fire ash placed on the head wound to stem the bleeding.
In the early 1970s, Mum went to Onslow in Western Australia as the community health nurse and had a large beat there servicing pastoral properties and, of course, the local Aboriginal community. One time, a cyclone was imminent and I took a call at home from the local copper who asked where Mum was, as everyone was supposed to be safe and sound at home. By this time, the winds were getting pretty strong and we were on red alert. They found Mum down the camp hammering sheets of tin with 3-inch nails trying to help make the camp safer.
Five years ago I was residing in Exmouth and got talking to a young man whose name I recognised. He had been a child on a station that was part of Mum's Onslow run. I told him that Mum was the clinic sister and this (by now thirty-year-old) man's eyes widened and he asked, 'Sister Morrison?' with horror. He went on to tell me that as soon as Mum drove in to the station, he and his brothers would run for the sand dunes. Apparently, after Mum had had her chat and a cuppa with the boys' mother, their mother would call to them to come and say goodbye to my mum. They would obediently do so and then mum and their mum would grab them and they'd receive their next immunisations!
Mum went south to Mandurah for a few years and worked in mainstream hospital emergency rooms and the like, but found it very stifling with the hierarchy and protocols. Soon she found herself over in Queensland doing relief nursing at various Aboriginal communities.
Throughout the year, she would beg other nurses for their old uniforms, which she'd take to New Guinea each Christmas period to relieve the Salvation Army bush nurses at remote village outposts near Kainantu in the Highlands. The villagers had her trekking over mountains for two days to reach and treat patients. She even performed an emergency tracheotomy up there. She would return to Australia with a completely empty suitcase.
I recall an old drunk, who went through a plate glass window and refused to go to hospital. He would only see Mum, who proceeded to sew him up with 150-plus stitches.
The people of Pine Creek and Onslow all have very fond memories and a great respect for my mother.
She had six children and mostly brought us up singly, as things were often hard at home with my father (who had war neurosis). For me, she's my mum, but for her, being a nurse has always been who she really was.
Fiona Gorman, daughter of Midge Morrison, retired registered nurse
## The Way It Was
SOUTH AUSTRALIA
I commenced my training in 1960 at the Adelaide Children's Hospital and I am still working part-time. In those days if you got married you automatically had to resign. The same if you became pregnant. If you wanted to have a profession, earn money and be independent of your parents, you abstained from sex as the best policy. Contraception came in a bit later. We all had to live in the nurses' home and did we have some fun. The ways we found to get in and out of the home after hours were ingenious.
I looked at our exam paper the other day. One question was how to do a nasal toilet. That was in 1963. Students now would laugh at that. They are much better equipped with knowledge on all subjects, but they still can't arrange the pillows for comfort like we were taught or change a dirty bed without it going everywhere. The Sisters in Charge were very conscious of their laundry bill.
I can remember one night, while working at a country hospital, we had to take a corpse to the morgue across the car park. It was dark and raining, we were hurrying and we hit a pothole. The body ended upon the ground so I now know what a 'dead weight' means.
Nursing has been so good to me over the last forty-eight years.
Christina Mowbray, retired registered nurse
## Adventure in Andamooka
ANDAMOOKA, SOUTH AUSTRALIA
In 1965, my husband and I took our two-year-old son to live in Andamooka to try our luck on the opal fields. The Australian Inland Mission had recently established a hospital there and as I have general and midwifery certificates, I made myself known to the staff. Over the next few years the sisters occasionally called on me for help and to relieve when they went on leave.
When my husband was killed in a mining accident in 1973, there happened to be a changeover of staff at the hospital, so I asked Mr Doug Lyons and Rev. Max Griffiths if they would consider me for the position. They agreed and decided that instead of there being two staff members it would be just me, thus leaving the second bedroom for my two children.
The work was certainly challenging and very well worth doing. It helped that people knew me and could talk to me. It was very satisfying to me that, while at the hospital, I ran two courses of St John's First Aid, with everyone graduating after taking their exams with examiners from Woomera.
The Flying Doctors flew up from Port Augusta and held a clinic once a fortnight, and were always ready with advice over the two-way radio phone. To evacuate sick and injured to Port Augusta, the retrieval plane had to land on a salt pan a few kilometres away. I was an ambulance driver as well as attending nurse. If it was dark we set battery lamps out: red at both ends and green at the sides. Thank goodness for the excellent RFDS pilots.
For the duration of the wet season, sometimes we had to survive without the RFDS clinic runs. The longest time we had to endure was six weeks. During this time, one morning at breakfast a man arrived to tell me his wife had been in labour since midnight. It was to be her second caesarean and she should have been sitting safely in Port Augusta at this time. In fact, she had been until her husband became lonely and drove down and brought her home!
After a moment of panic, I phoned Dr Sadler in Port Augusta. He got in touch with Woomera Weapons Research Establishment and they, thankfully, sent a helicopter to pick up my mother-to-be, who was met in Woomera by the RFDS, who in turn got her safely to the appropriate delivery room.
Around the same time, because of the flood waters, a couple of Andamooka residents informed me they had run out of their medications. The doctors were holding a clinic in Coober Pedy that day so, ever resourceful, they bought a plastic doll and stuffed it with the required pills. The pilots fashioned a parachute from an old sheet and, as they flew past on their way home, they parachuted the doll down to me.
My advice to all nurses thinking about remote area nursing? If you are prepared to treat chooks with vitamin K injections because of alleged poisoning by neighbours with rat poison; little dogs in difficulty in labour; bigger dogs suffering after dog fights with eyes hanging out; and then, of course, all your human patients, then go for it! You will love it.
Sister Fay Tilmouth, retired registered nurse
The resilient Sister Fay Tilmouth, who raised her children while working as a nurse in the remote town of Andamooka in South Australia.
## Basking in Bamaga
BAMAGA, FAR NORTH QUEENSLAND
I was brought up as a country girl and always wanted to be a nurse. The love of the bush never leaves, so after graduating in 1970 (General and Midwifery) it was only natural that my career would eventually move from busy capital cities to rural and remote areas, especially after seeing the monument to Flynn of the Inland and hearing the story on my earlier travels.
By the early nineties, I was single again with a grown-up son, so decided to travel around Australia. After visiting Cape York with a friend I was given the opportunity to go back and work at the hospital in Bamaga, which is situated about 10 kilometres from the tip of Cape York. The population there consists mainly of Torres Strait Islanders and Aboriginals and we worked under the umbrellas of Thursday Island and Cairns Base hospitals.
Most transfers were sent by helicopter to TI (Thursday Island), about a ten-minute flight. My first important lessons were to gauge which way the wind was blowing as you want to land into the wind; not have the wind pushing you from behind; and how to light and position the flares on the landing pad. Most importantly, you had to get any dogs or horses off the pad. The locals up there were not fussed about flying, but quite happy to be in a tinny in those rough oceans to the north where distance was measured in jerry cans of fuel needed for that particular trip. Any sort of flying was avoided if possible.
The locals do have a wonderfully relaxed attitude towards life so that times and dates meant nothing. This was quite frustrating for me at first, but I soon learnt that you had to go with the flow. We always worked with a local enrolled nurse (EN). Often it was only the two of you on duty with a doctor on call. The ENs had very basic training but were worth their weight in gold when it came to keeping you safe and giving you access to clients who would call in. Because family names were handed down it was essential to get the correct file. For instance, I thought I was being very smart one day and collected a file I required, only to have everyone burst into laughter when the file was for an old lady and the client I had in front of me was her granddaughter who was obviously expecting a baby. I left the file finding to the professionals after that, and date of birth took on a whole new meaning.
Child rearing was done by the whole community so you often saw children out and about with different families. Everyone was related in some way or another so criticism was best avoided. Once you gained the confidence of the EN, you gained the confidence of the community. However, this did not happen overnight.
They loved their food and took ages preparing lunch at work. Then they sat down and talked and ate in a relaxed manner. I soon realised this time could be made into fun food learning sessions and the exchanging of recipes. So much for the usual life of the nurse who eats her food on the run, especially in the big city hospital.
They loved the outdoors, so our antenatal clinics left the confines of four walls and were held under shady trees in local parks or in someone's backyard.
One never went into the house unless invited. I thought I was going up there to teach them but in reality they taught me. I learnt to stop and smell the roses. I learnt to listen and to hear. I learnt to look and to see. I learnt to feel and see both sides of the story. And I learnt to draw on past experiences and use my gut feeling when nothing was obvious at the time.
We sent our clients off to have their babies in TI and they usually stayed there unless, of course, there was a football match on in town. Then they would come back, by tinnie, hopefully getting back to TI in time for the birth.
Often you are working with no access to machines or the latest of technology. I remember walking into the emergency birthing suite and asking where the CTG (cardiotocography) machine was. Is the latest technology even the answer when you can't follow through? Better to concentrate on basics and what you can do in the present situation.
We as 'whites' are so hung up about paper work and time restraints that it's slowly choking us. These people were not early risers and our times were adjusted accordingly. I remember a new rule that came out that all staff must wear enclosed shoes. Usually, if shoes were worn at all, it was sandals and thongs. My faithful EN had worn her new shoes for quite a few days when she finally told me, 'No more shoes.' She promptly took them off and sat down. The shoes landed on the floor and out fell pieces of squashed paper. Never having had new shoes before, she had no idea that the usual stuffed paper in the shoes had to be removed.
I learnt tolerance and patience and I also learnt to question the way of the white fellow. I know we are not always right and we have much to learn. Sometimes we never ask what they want; we think we know and we get frustrated and annoyed when they don't want to do things our way.
Now I have retired after forty-six years of nursing but when I look back on my amazing career, it's the years I spent in rural and remote that will always mean the most. I could never see my career going back into a hospital situation after going rural/remote. Not only do you see parts of our amazing country that you would never see otherwise, but the exchange of ideas, food, culture, traditions and the back to basics of nursing is so refreshing and often there is not a computer in sight. It really does make you feel like a real nurse.
Lyle Barter, registered nurse (remote area nurse)
## The Nearest Nurse
CHANNEL COUNTRY, FAR SOUTH-WEST QUEENSLAND
Living in a remote community where there is no medical help at all ensures that anyone who has been in the nursing profession is called upon to assist, advise, and perform miracles. In the days when phones were unreliable and the RFDS was still several hours away, the medical problems were expected to be handled by the nearest nurse. Never mind that that particular nurse had never been trained to work without a doctor close by, or other mentors, and also that there was no equipment except maybe a thermometer, a watch and the nurse's hands. Luckily most communities and rural stations had the good old RFDS medical box.
These boxes contained medicines in bottles or boxes with numbers on them to identify the product or medication. There were bandages with numbers, eye droppers, eye glasses (for washing out the eye), medicine glasses, rubber tubing for tourniquets, thermometers (usually useless because of the heat), syringes and needles, and other miscellaneous first-aid equipment.
The medications were only to be given with the doctor's permission, except in emergency. In the early days before expiry dates, some of these products were unusable because they were affected by the heat and there was no airconditioning back then. These days the boxes are checked regularly and replaced when expired. Some of the medications are kept under refrigeration.
Mothers with babies and young children were happy to have someone to ask for advice on problems affecting their children, such as colds, coughs, vomiting and diarrhoea, constipation and many other things, and to have that person ring the doctor on their behalf, as most of them were in awe of doctors at that time and worried about saying the wrong thing, or just not knowing what to say. I think people were always reassured by having someone to take control in situations where they had no experience.
Wounds and sutures were fairly common, and suture materials were given to most of us by colleagues. Instruments were boiled in a saucepan on the stove (in rain water so they wouldn't be corroded by bore water) and the operation was generally performed on the dining table. It was usually necessary to have a torch holder assist. This often sorted out the 'gung-ho' from the helpful. It wasn't unusual to have the torch holder end up on the floor! I found that some of my children, and in particular one grandchild, were the most reliable for this job if they were around. My husband usually entertained the relatives with cups of tea and stories while the job was being done. At times it was required to keep the patient close by for observation and this required giving them a bed. Sometimes it was necessary to do regular wound dressings or check on people who had been unwell, so this required home visits.
There were some very distressing events, often involving a death. Sometimes it was necessary to organise for a deceased person to be taken to a morgue, usually by the policeman, or to arrange for a funeral. This was made harder by the fact that the person and relatives were usually well known in the community.
Gymkhanas, rodeos and other horse sports were not my favourite times. There were usually some accidents. In fact, the very first gymkhana I attended, when I didn't really know anyone well, a young rider broke his leg and I was called on to help. All we could do was get a door to place him on and get him to the RFDS plane. That was many years ago and things are a lot different now in terms of treatment and retrieval.
There were also, of course, happy events and some very humorous things that happened. There was a John Wayne episode one day, when a man brought his son to me saying he was shot! Turns out the two young brothers had a gun and one accidently (we think!) shot the other in the upper arm. It was a small shotgun and dad wanted the pellets removed. His advice to me was to 'give him some whisky and a hot knife'! However, I sent him up to Jundah hospital to have it sorted, and it was decided to leave the pellets as they were not harming anything.
Anne Kidd, retired registered nurse
## Managing the Mountain
MANGROVE MOUNTAIN, CENTRAL NEW SOUTH WALES
When I asked the Bush Nursing Association (BNA), in 1970, if I could to go to Mangrove Mountain, an isolated spot in from the central NSW coast, they practically handed it to me on a platter. The Bush Nursing Centre had been closed for eight months. In preparation for going up, the head office sent me to St Vincent's where I learnt to suture, pick bits out of eyes and look at anything that came in as a casualty. There was a policy manual there, which I was asked to read.
The day I travelled up there I had a flat tyre, locked myself out, finally got in, lit a fire and smoked myself out. This was fun! The CWA ladies had cleaned the place out, scrubbing it from top to bottom. Next morning, I woke to find mice had danced all through the draws and cupboards. That became a daily cleaning exercise until a young man named Ross found a floorboard missing in a cupboard. I was so thankful because after three weeks I was ready to leave.
I was 'on call' 24/7 but I could have two days off as deemed by the committee of locals from the mountain and surrounding districts. My hours off were from 8 a.m. to 10 p.m. on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The committee was very conscious of the community needs and it was they who raised the funds to pay me – of course, they funded that in part with the takings from the clinic. A visit to the clinic cost $1.20 and a home visit was $2.50. Patients paid mileage and for any medication I gave them; everything was carefully recorded. As the community was responsible for paying me there were a few times the wage could not be met but I never went without; I was kept very well with lots of vegetables, eggs, milk and chickens (both prepared and alive).
No two days were the same and I spent most of my time at the clinic unless called out. Then I left a sign on the clinic door saying either 'car accident' or 'home visit'. I worked one late night a week, from 5 p.m. to 8 p.m. – this was good for mothers as they could nip up with their children for their vaccines.
Every day, there were the usual fractures, cuts, bites and stings. People turned up with odd spiders in bottles or with tourniquets applied, sometimes in the wrong place. I had to know how to recognise them quickly so I didn't make a mistake, so I went off to the Reptile Park at Gosford where I bought books and asked lots of questions. I never held any of the antivenoms in my clinic as I was not considered far enough from Gosford hospital.
Farm accidents were many and varied. Suturing was a big part of my day. I dressed burns and the occasional shotgun wound. One day, I had a patient with a fractured leg, plaster intact, who rode in on horseback for me to check the plaster and the circulation in his toes. At least once a year I delivered an early baby, one of them right on my doorstep.
I attended a lot of accidents on the Pacific Highway and on the main road through to Newcastle. Long weekends were the worst; I could be out for hours. It was hardly worth my time undressing so I used to just lie on my bed and if I slept, well and good, otherwise I was up and away with a sign on the car, extra torches and my special bag and oxygen. The ambulance officers and police were very helpful to me and gave me every assistance in some rather sticky situations.
We had a large population of Greeks and Italians and smaller groups of Maltese and Turkish people. This meant I sometimes needed an interpreter. I often had to use younger members of the family but I refused to learn any of their languages and spoke English at all times.
On Sundays, I taught at the local Sunday school and throughout the years I taught first aid to the Brownies, Girl Guides and Scouts. Folk knew my times at the Centre and always knew where I was out of hours so they would just find me when they needed me. I always carried everything with me in my car in case of an accident. I became a member of the CWA, who were great supporters of the Bush Nursing Centre.
Every year, I looked forward to going down to Sydney with the president of the committee to attend the AGM of the BNA. I enjoyed comparing notes with the other bush nurses who were able to get there.
When the BNA finished in Mangrove Mountain in 1975, I stayed on for another seventeen and a half years as the community nurse. It was an interesting and challenging position and I met some very odd characters but they were all part of the mix. Lots of people looked out for me and offered help.
I was very surprised and honoured to be awarded an MBE. The citation read, 'For services to nursing and the community since 1970. Miss Eleanor Boxsell has been the bush nurse at Mangrove Mountain, an isolated area on the Central Coast of NSW, and has been almost the sole source of continuous medical care to the scattered community. She has displayed outstanding devotion to duty.'
I didn't know anyone in the outside world even knew what I was doing.
Eleanor Boxsell, MBE, retired registered nurse, midwife, child health nurse
## Once a Nurse, Always a Nurse
CHARLEVILLE, SOUTH-WEST QUEENSLAND
I came to Australia for a year in the early '70s, working in Perth, Sydney and for a short stint at the Springsure Hospital in central Queensland because I wanted to visit the outback. I went back to England, but really, there were much better opportunities out here so I returned to Sydney in 1974.
I met my future husband Peter and moved to Charleville Hospital to work until we married and moved to 'Patricia Park', at Adavale, in far south-west Queensland. I ran the Adavale Clinic for many years and relieved the matron at the Quilpie Hospital as required. I was the sole nurse at Adavale but in England I'd had a very comprehensive training at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Birmingham and later worked as a midwife and paediatric nurse, so I had experienced a wide variety of challenges and acquired broad range of skills. I was isolated but unafraid.
Later on, we moved to another property closer to Charleville although still 80 kilometres from town, much of this being dirt road. I worked as Director of Nursing for the Blue Nursing Service in Charleville prior to being the Director of Nursing at the Charleville Base Hospital for some years, and participated in various health forums and committees because the health and wellbeing of the community has always interested me.
In thirty-seven years working as a registered nurse in south-west Queensland, I have seen a lot of changes in rural and remote health, the most notable being the introduction of specialist fields in medicine. Generally, GPs are no longer required to provide specialist services like obstetrics, anaesthetics and surgery. Back in those days, the local GP could deliver a baby, whip out an appendix or deliver an anaesthetic for someone else in theatre. The hospitals were much busier because the wards were often full of kids with gastro and adults with stomach ulcers. Treatments are so much better now so we don't see that so much any more.
Of course, back then, there were more GPs and many country hospitals were training venues for registered and enrolled nurses, so there was a culture of learning that was attractive to staff. A local lass could train at a large country hospital, go to a regional or city hospital for a block of lectures and practical experience and return each year with new skills and more confidence. In Charleville, we had several private doctors attending the Base Hospital, including Louis Ariotti, who was a very resourceful and successful surgeon and teacher.
Nowadays, you mostly have to go to the city for those services and much less is being done in country hospitals, although there are visiting specialists in some larger rural hospitals. The closure of many maternity wards has made a significant difference to hospital numbers and also to the health and wellbeing of young parents. It's expensive to travel away for regular visits to an obstetrician and to have to be away from home for the delivery.
On the other hand, these days there are more allied health professionals. We have wonderful domiciliary nursing services in the country and things like palliative care, respite for carers, meals on wheels and so on and the ongoing use of technology, in particular telemedicine, should enable more consultations for patients and health professionals. People just need to be taught how to access things for themselves.
I've retired, more or less. I'm still vitally interested in rural and remote health though, so I've gone back to study in the field of dementia. It's a growing challenge and I'd like to continue contributing, to say nothing of keeping my own brain busy and healthy. It seems a very appropriate choice at my age!
Maggie Wade, registered nurse, midwife, paediatric nurse
## City Girl
MORVEN, SOUTH-WEST QUEENSLAND
I came out, from Brisbane to south-west Queensland, fourteen years ago when my children were in their late teens and twenties. The family joke is that Mum left home first! I was single and looking to travel but, in the end, I didn't get very far. I was supposed to go to Injune, but I got a phone call the night before I was to travel telling me that Injune had cancelled and asking could I go to Augathella instead. I had never even heard of it and had to get the map out to find out where it was.
After working in the top echelons as a colorectal nurse in Brisbane, I found myself floundering. I suffered many a terrifying moment, in those early months in Augathella, as I struggled to become multiskilled. To my horror, the doctor wasn't even on the premises 24/7. It didn't matter that he was just 50 metres away in his house; I was used to having a doctor right there, at my beck and call. The staff were stand-offish at first as, I now know, is the way of the bush. You have to prove yourself before you're accepted. Despite that, it was an absolute pleasure to work with the enrolled nurses at Augathella. Enrolled nurses in the bush are the stable base of most hospitals and these were local girls who had experience I only dreamt of. I quickly understood that I needed to learn from them so I asked a million questions. I do think they often tired of me and thought me a bit of a strange one.
My first experience with the bush telegraph was on a particularly cold morning when I went walking expecting to warm up enough not to require a jumper. However, it was so cold I shivered all the way. When I got back to the hospital, I called in to have morning tea with the girls and they all laughed because they'd already been told via the bush telegraph that I was silly enough to go down town without a coat. For a city girl it was very confronting to think I was being watched every step of the way. Now, many years later, I embrace that watching, caring nature of bush people; to belong and to be cared about.
I learnt a myriad of things in Augathella; I looked in kids' ears, sutured wounds, did home visits to the elderly – all fascinating stuff and skills I'd never used in the city. My experience base expanded and I moved on to Charleville, a much bigger town and a larger hospital. I worked on what was called the General Ward. Well, wasn't that an understatement! One moment you'd be looking after an elderly person, the next somebody with a mental health issue, and then somebody having a heart attack would present.
Again, I felt my skills were lacking. I watched and learnt. The staff were amazing and I worked in awe of them. One day, at a social event, I got talking to the District Manager about my doubts in myself despite having been so in command of my practice in Brisbane. He suggested that I make a plan and upskill.
I pondered that for a long time until, one day, a lady had a nasty haemorrhage after having a baby. There wasn't always a midwife on shift after a delivery and as I was the most senior registered nurse on duty, it was me who had to deal with it. Happily, her outcome was good but it was the catalyst I needed to begin a new 'upskilling' journey.
I had always admired the mystical nurses who worked by themselves in the bush, attending to everything in their communities. I completed my Rural and Isolated Practice (RIPRN) course and Midwifery. The RIPERN course was new and set up between the Royal Flying Doctor Service and Queensland Health. The main objective was to legitimise what remote area nurses did.
Feeling far more confident, when an opportunity arose in 2002 to apply for the Director of Nursing (DON) position at Morven Outpatients Clinic, I eagerly applied and got the job.
Morven is a tiny town of 250 people with the nearest doctor 93 kilometres away. The clinic services a much larger geographic area including many grazing properties; halfway to Mitchell to the east, Charleville to the west, Augathella to the north and Bollon to the south. It sits on the junction of the Warrego and Landsborough highways in south-west Queensland so, for six months of the year, it caters to the tourist crowd as well. It was a dream come true. I threw myself into the role. There was a wonderful doctor in Augathella who became my mentor and friend. He visited Morven one day a week and we would still be seeing patients at 9 p.m.
Reflecting back is enlightening. I undertook my new role for all the right reasons and with wonderful preparation, thanks to the people I had worked with. Morven, although tiny, was and is challenging. I was required not only to see patients, but also to 'manage' the facility. I had no preparation for that side of it and I would labour long into the night trying to balance the books, do orders, check stock, rearrange the clinic a hundred times trying to get it exactly 'right'.
My work partner was officially the gardener/cleaner but she became so much more, as I learnt is the way of the bush with work colleagues. I might have been the nurse, but the roles intertwine. I had no illusions of power in the position; we worked as team for the good of the community. If I got a little 'big-headed' I was quickly brought down to earth. One day, after an incident, I was relaying the details via the phone to debrief and seek support. Unfortunately, I said something like 'I'm here on my own', meaning that I had no doctor or other medical people to help me with the situation. When I got off the phone, she snapped at me: 'Who do you think I am? Just a piece of shit on the floor?'
It was very confronting and, at that moment, I realised I was never really alone in this isolated position. I had my work mate, visiting colleagues and the people of the town and properties for assistance. Since that day, I couldn't tell you how many times I have called on the locals to help me out.
In the beginning, life in health was uncomplicated. To receive medications for the clinic, I would write out a quick list and fax it through to Charleville. To pay a bill, such as electricity, I would just put it in an envelope and send it off. What happened after that wasn't my concern. All I had to focus on was the health care of the community. There was little paperwork, and corporate and clinical governance were unheard of out here in my little haven.
Morven was a bit like turning the clock back. People referred to me as Matron. I could never quite roll the 'r' as they did! At first I thought, No way! I hadn't even worn a sister's veil because I was university trained. I corrected everyone for about the first two years but then I gave up, realising it's about that old-fashioned respect of the nurse and the position. Now when people call me the Matron when they speak to me, I appreciate it for what it is.
Many funny things have happened along the path. One day, in the ambulance, we ventured down the Bollon road to a truckie who was diabetic and was having a turn. We'd brought a number of men from town in case we had to lift the patient. He'd got himself out of his road train and was lying on the ground in the shade of the trailers, which were loaded with cattle that were bellowing very noisily when we arrived. I approached the patient and knelt down beside him to check him out. Just then, one of the beasts peed all over me! Well, didn't that set the crowd into raptures? They had tears in their eyes for days laughing at the Matron covered in cow pee. I did see the funny side eventually!
Today, health is changing. Instead of faxing off orders for medications, I enter my requests onto a database. My work partner, Sandra, does much of the administration as well as the cleaning and gardening but there is still a lot of extra electronic paper work for the DON to do. Every little thing goes onto a database. That aside, the basic nursing care I give to my community has not changed. I still look after them all, from babies to the elderly and everyone in between. There is a different doctor in Augathella in recent years and I am lucky because he has also become a valued work colleague and friend.
Sandra is my right-hand woman. Without her and this wonderful community, nursing in this medically remote location would be much more challenging. Sandra is also the honorary ambulance officer in town so, when I leave town at the end of my working week and return to my home in Charleville, Sandra takes over and attends to the health needs of the community. Where else would you get such great teamwork? I have a job where I am respected, appreciated and supported by my community. Working in Morven for the last ten years as 'Matron' has been a privilege and the best job in the world.
Jill Macdonald (nee Carroll), registered nurse, midwife, rural and isolated practice registered nurse (RIPRN)
Postscript: As a result of restructuring in Queensland Health, in November 2012, the DON's position was declared surplus and the Morven Clinic was downgraded and reclassified as an outstation of the Augathella Multi Purpose Clinic. The Morven community is fighting to have the decision reversed.
## Swansong
QUILPIE, FAR SOUTH-WEST QUEENSLAND
Walking past the old glass cabinet in the hospital foyer, looking at the historical equipment in the form of glass syringes, bedpans, theatre instruments and old beautifully bound record books, my mind goes back to the days of veils, heat and dust. What a wedge of memories come flooding back, filled with much laughter and some tears. This is my swansong; my last day. Forty-five years of my nursing career coming to an end!
In 1967, having finished my training at the Alfred Hospital in Melbourne, my first posting as a graduate nurse was to Quilpie, a small, isolated town in far south-west Queensland. It was my love of the bush that drew me back to this landscape and the embrace of friends met in my earlier childhood. Little did I imagine what incredible experiences were to unfold: some happy, some tragic and some just downright dramatic.
Within four weeks of my arrival I went on night duty. I was the only nurse in that rambling old hospital and at first I was scared, but after a while I enjoyed the quietness, and felt quite safe walking along the verandahs, past the many unlocked doors, to check on patients.
My first experience in dealing with trauma and isolation occurred when a woman was murdered. The matron and doctor at the time were socialising at the Club and didn't believe me when I described the emergency call I had received. So, when I notified them to say I had sent the ambulance out to do a halfway meet, they were furious. They soon changed their tune when I again rang to tell them that the ambulance had returned with the patient DOA (dead on arrival). Detectives and police arrived from Charleville within hours. It certainly was a very eventful night!
Before 000, we often received funny calls direct to the hospital requesting a trip to the post office or asking to be taken for chicken and chips at the café! One amusing night I received a call on night duty to a house in town. A woman said she had developed a terrible rash on her lower body. Thinking she may be having an allergic reaction, we quickly dispensed the ambulance to the house. I still laugh at the memory of the woman meeting us under the street light outside her house where she proceeded to drop her undies to reveal a pimple on her bottom!
At one time we had a severe gastro epidemic, particularly affecting young children and babies. There were so many babies admitted to the hospital we had to put them in cardboard boxes and prop them up, doing a twenty-four hour vigil of nappy changing and feeding to rehydrate. Finally the exhausted staff succumbed to the virus, going down like flies.
Back then, there was no refrigerated morgue, so any deceased person had to be buried early in the day with many perfumed flowers and spray before it became too hot.
At times, there was a shortage of staff both nursing and domestic, so the patients would chip in and shell the peas or help fold the linen; a bit of occupational therapy! There were no silly regulations back then preventing such interaction.
I spent my twenty-first birthday on night duty! My parents had travelled up from Melbourne bringing cases of champagne to celebrate an organised dinner at the Hotel Imperial. I wasn't allowed to swap shifts with a willing staff member, so we agreed that she would cover me by one hour so I could at least stay out until midnight. The matron found out about this arrangement and the following morning (which was my actual birthday) I was asked to attend her office at 9 a.m. I was duly hauled over the coals.
I had arranged to meet my parents and friends out at a friend's property for the rest of the day. On the way I had a flat tyre, which I dealt with, and then the car stopped right in the middle of the Bulloo River. It was all too much. I had a drink of tomato juice, crawled under a mulga tree and went to sleep, where the search party found me several hours later.
Years later, after leading another life, I returned to the Quilpie district at the tender age of fifty, marrying an old friend from those early years and settling down to live on 'Beechal', his property 150 kilometres from town. I commenced work at the hospital for a few days each fortnight, just to keep up my skills. Having practised midwifery for the past thirty-five years I was disappointed not to be delivering babies, but the newer doctors considered it unsafe with no backup if anything went wrong. However, for ten years I continued to perform ante-natal classes, enabling contact before and after the birth. I loved doing this as it enabled one to engage and support young mothers who were often a long way from their families.
Over the next fourteen years, nursing played a pivotal role in my life; at first to renew contact with the community but later, when the drought of 2000–2010 occurred, it provided us a much needed extra income. It also kept me sane.
Travelling from 'Beechal' to Quilpie provided many challenges, particularly when it rained and the river was in flood. I had to take an alternative route on a wet-weather road. On one occasion I drove through a creek with no markers only to have water over the bonnet of the car and coming in the windows. I was determined to get through!
Due to massive rain, Quilpie was isolated for two weeks. There was a shortage of staff at the hospital, so I was flown to town in a helicopter to work full-time. What a sight it was to see the town surrounded by water. Once, on my journey in to work, I managed to get bogged. While finding rocks and branches to place underneath the wheels, I slipped over and fractured my ankle.
The following week I was to become the Acting Director of Nursing (DON) for six weeks. Because of the staff shortage I managed to perform the role from a wheelchair, in plaster!
Looking back, I recall the warmth of the community on both my arrivals in Quilpie. The first time was a great time to be young and free. There were many jackeroos and governesses on stations in the surrounding district in the late sixties, so it wasn't long before I made friends among young and old members alike, many who remain dear friends. With much partying, we attended polo carnivals, races, gymkhanas and polocrosse events. I recall Spiro Corones, who owned the newsagency, asking us what music we would like him to play on his record player. To his delight we suggested 'Zorba the Greek' so, thereafter, he would put it on loudspeaker and we would perform Zorba's dance in the main street, under the stars!
How lucky was I to meet and work with such fun-loving, beautiful girls who have stood me in good stead through good and fun times as well as the bad. In this small town the people are so privileged to have such a caring environment in which to be nursed back to good health or to be to be nurtured through aged care and palliative care for those dying. While it's sometimes difficult for staff in a small community because they know everyone very well, when an emergency occurs, all the staff in town turn up to assist with amazing teamwork and support, whether they're on duty or not.
As I look out across the gardens, I recall that, with no vet in town, humans weren't our only patients. We had one particularly beautiful female doctor who was to remain with us for nearly three years. Some local boys wanted to test her out and brought in a young unbroken colt that had a huge wound on its head. Much to the amusement of the inpatients, they threw the horse on the lawn in front of the hospital, tied its legs and sat on its rump. The doctor, who had no experience with horses, calmly knelt down and proceeded to suture the wound, with a staff member poised ready to grab her, if the horse struggled. The men were most impressed.
Today, as I complete my last shift, I can't help reflecting on the enormous changes that have taken place between the early years of my experience and now. Regulations in all areas have stifled lots of activities within hospitals everywhere. Imagine a vegetable garden in the hospital grounds, where some of the inpatients and members of the wider community could come and maintain it. They could enjoy the fruits of their labours in the form of nutritional food, to say nothing of the benefits of exercise and companionship.
However, the positives of new technology include better and more efficient diagnosis in the treatment of patients; the I-stat machine, which can assist in diagnosing a patient's condition within minutes with a simple blood test. Modern X-ray equipment and miraculous teleconferencing enables specialists to observe and advise both medical and nursing staff 'in the room' but from afar. These are just some of the modern wonders for people in the bush enabling better health outcomes.
I will walk out of this dear place – 'and bow and accept the end of a love or a season' ('Reluctance' by Robert Frost). This nursing life has stood me in good stead, providing friendship, laughter and tears, but above all the satisfaction of providing tender loving care to people from all walks of life, from the beginning until the end of life.
Dee Crotty, retired registered nurse and midwife
# chapter three
NURSES AT WORK
Every day, nurses provide emergency and primary health care for people living and working in the inland of Australia. With their continued commitment, they help ensure the sustainability of the outback.
## Out and About
HIGH COUNTRY, VICTORIA
I was called to see a patient who had almost succeeded in slipping under a fence, away from a cranky cow, but the cow had pinned her ear to the ground with the tip of its horn. I had nearly arrived there when a neighbour ran onto the road calling me to stop as his wife was choking.
I hurried in and fixed the wife up for a while with her head over an inhalation. After, I found the patient horned by the cow in bed suffering from shock. I examined the tiny hole in the ear, fixed that up, and hurried back to the other patient. Both patients recovered satisfactorily.
On my door there was hung a slate and pencil. I had to write where I had gone and the patients either came after me or wrote their trouble on the slate.
Looking out my back door one day, I saw across the field two men with guns trained on each other. As I watched, the man furthest away, over 100 yards (90 metres) from the nearer man, turned to say something to those around him and at that moment the nearer man shot him twice in the back then walked off into the bush.
I hurriedly threw the saddle on Jim (my horse) and rode round to the wounded man. When I was nearly there, a woman ran out waving a sheet, which frightened Jim. However, she rolled it up and I put it quickly on the front of my saddle. In a few minutes, I was examining the man on the ground. I saw where one bullet was close to the surface and cut that one out. Snow was now falling.
With two saplings used with the sheet, we made a rough stretcher and, tying the patient to this, it was placed across a car. With one man driving and another holding the improvised stretcher, away they sped through 25 miles (40 kilometres) to Dr Ley and his hospital. The patient was delirious and his legs were stiff. Doctor said the second bullet had lodged at the man's lung. He thanked me for cutting out the other bullet so speedily.
Extracts adapted from Memoirs of a Victorian Bush Nurse in the 1920s by Alice Martin, registered nurse and midwife, transcribed by her daughter, Val Watson
Before there were cars, it was up to gallant bush nurses such as Alice Martin, from the high country of Victoria, to reach patients on horseback.
## Never a Dull Moment
HALLS CREEK, KIMBERLEY REGION, WESTERN AUSTRALIA
Leaving my home on the farm at Temora, NSW on Boxing Day 1965, little did I realise what really lay ahead of me in the two years following, but to quote the old saying 'ignorance is bliss' I flew into Halls Creek via Darwin, leaving a hot, dry summer for an energy-sapping wet season in the Kimberley.
It was a neat township, with a population at the time of approximately 100 whites and 500 Aboriginal people. I was pleasantly surprised by the cool, comfortable hospital with its wide verandahs and breezeway and by the inquisitive welcome of the locals.
Confronting the radio transceiver, however, was a different kettle of fish; it terrified me! It was not just the process of trying to decipher messages through the static, but knowing that half of the Kimberley population was tuned in to the 'Galah Session' to hear what was going on and what urgent medical cases were being discussed.
I vividly remember one particular case where an Aboriginal man presented at the hospital one evening in great distress with severe pain in his lower abdominal area. Gail and I sat with him throughout the night, poring over our medical books and coming to the conclusion he had a torsion of his testicle. As soon as we were able to contact the RFDS Base at Derby the next morning (no phone in those days), a plane was sent out to evacuate the patient.
The next morning with trepidation we called in to the doctor, only to be bawled out over the airwaves, 'Sister, how well did you examine the patient? He has the mumps!'
Most evacuations, however, were essential, including the wife of a station owner who was badly injured when she failed to negotiate a sharp bend, called the Devil's Elbow, on the road south-west of Halls Creek. The Shire President, Ernie Bridge, drove the ambulance, into which we hastily threw some medications, blankets and pillows; there were no stretchers in the ambulance. The retrieval was made without too many dramas; the lady was flown out to Derby and subsequently made a good recovery.
However, often due to a combination of injury, illness and distance, not all evacuees survived, and this left us with feelings of helplessness, frustration, grief and pain.
Our little hospital soon became the social centre of the town and hardly a night passed without someone dropping in. Right behind the hospital grounds was a mining camp, and many a night was spent playing cards, listening to records, making our own beer or chatting over a cup of coffee.
We never seemed to be short of company to go to the outdoor pictures. We'd leave a note on the front door as to our whereabouts, take our own chairs and hope that there wouldn't be a dog fight at a crucial time in the movie.
The running of the hospital went smoothly with Gail, Helen and I taking it in turns to do everything for a week at a time. One did the cooking for the patients and ourselves, one cleaned and washed, while the other one would attend to the medical needs of outpatients and inpatients.
We had a well-stocked treatment room, complete with X-ray machine, which we learnt to use quite adeptly. We gave the dental tools a good workout and the stomach pump, usually with Gail dry-retching in time with the patient. We had a great range of medications, bandaids and Mercurochrome, the latter two items in great demand with Aboriginal children who loved to ring the doorbell and show us a little scratch or sore, which miraculously got better after the application of Mercurochrome and band aids.
I fondly remember one elderly Aboriginal man who required injections in his buttocks. At the completion of the injection he would say, 'Tank u, tank u – my bottom tanks u.'
Race week was a time of great activity, excitement and apprehension, the town busting at the seams with the influx of people from the stations from miles around. This increased the risks of brawls and accidents, however, depending on the number of patients in the hospital at the time, we were usually able to accommodate some visitors in the wards.
After the frenzied activities of race week (we also helped with the catering for the Race Ball) things would quieten down for a time, before gearing up for the Christmas party. Head office would send up boxes of gifts for distribution among the children from the town and surrounding stations. These were sorted and wrapped and then the cooking would begin: patty cakes of all sizes and colours and toffees, among other things. The problem was how to keep the toffee from melting or becoming too sticky, until we hit on the idea of using the morgue fridge! Fortunately it hadn't been in use for quite some time, so we set to and scrubbed, washed and scrubbed until it shone, inside and out. End of problem.
August 1966 was a special time as we had a visit from Rev. Fred McKay and Hamilton Aitken, the official photographer for the AIM. Three memorable events took place with their visit: an outside evening church service in the grounds of the hostel, a barbecue breakfast beside the creek at Old Town, followed by a short devotional service and the news that we were to have three weeks' leave to return to our families. What great news that was.
In between work and going on the Aboriginal reserve to teach basic hygiene and health care to the women and children, we found time for swimming in the waterhole, playing tennis and dancing.
There were quite a few keen tennis players in town and many a hard-fought social match was won and lost. Mind you, broken strings necessitated the offending racquet to be sent to Perth for re-stringing.
One moonlit night, we realised we had an intruder in our food storeroom. Not really knowing if they had fled or not, Gail bravely stood outside the door with a didgeridoo in her hand calling, 'Come out whoever you are!', while we sent for the police. No-one appeared, but later when our stores were checked, it was found that quite a bit of food was missing.
The next night the police, the shire clerk and a couple of volunteers sat up on an all-night vigil in one of the wards, in the unlikely event that the intruder would return for further supplies. However, this did not eventuate. We never found the culprit.
On one occasion, we invited Slim Dusty, Joy McKean and Barry Thornton to share morning tea with us after one of their 'oh so popular concerts' where coloured shirts, high-heeled riding boots and big hats were the order of the day. We did enjoy the time spent with them. The next day saw us entertaining the WA governor for morning tea. Never a dull moment!
Being a keen gardener, I planted many trees around the hospital, some of which were still growing when I returned several years later. I also had a flourishing vegetable garden, growing tomatoes, onions, cabbage, cauliflower, shallots and pumpkins. We had to pollinate the pumpkins ourselves, as there were no bees to do the job. The biggest pests were stray dogs, who loved to dig in the damp, soft soil and often uprooted the vegetable plants.
As I look back at those two wonderful years of hard work, spiritual growth, sadness, laughter and lasting friendships, I remember the words of the one who said, 'The initials of AIM should really stand for the "Australian Institute of Matrimony",' as so many of us met our future husbands while in these areas.
I thank God for bringing Rev. Fred McKay to Temora in 1965, showing slides and photos of the work of the Australian Inland Mission, as it was his visit that led me to Halls Creek – a journey that has had such a profound impact on my life.
Christine Patt (nee Sinclair), retired registered nurse
Christine Patt (nee Sinclair) recalls two years of 'hard work, spiritual growth, sadness, laughter and lasting friendships' as a nurse in Halls Creek, Western Australia.
## Australia's Frontline Matron
DARWIN, NORTHERN TERRITORY
Edith McQuade White commenced her nursing career at the Brisbane General Hospital, graduating in 1928. Having then done her Midwifery and Child Welfare Certificate, she became Matron of the Delta Private Hospital at Ayr in North Queensland. In 1937 she relocated to Darwin, where she worked as a sister at the Darwin Hospital before being posted to Katherine. In those days, this entailed a fourteen-hour train trip with an overnight stop at Pine Creek.
At Katherine, Edith was Sister in Charge, with several other duties in addition to her work in the hospital. For instance, she reported local weather conditions daily to the Darwin Weather Office. When required, at night she also set out and lit the paraffin flares on the runway for Dr Clyde Fenton, who used an aeroplane to visit patients in outlying areas.
She was later posted to Tennant Creek, a rough, frontier mining town where the hospital provided the only medical services between Katherine and Alice Springs, a distance of some 1180 kilometres. After seven months, she was advised she was to return to Darwin. Shortly thereafter, war broke out and she was informed that she had been appointed Staff Nurse in the Australian Army Nursing Service. She wrote, 'To my bitter disappointment the Government would not release me from the Northern Territory Medical Service [NTMS].'
Edith continued with the NTMS until the military authorities advised her that it had decided to establish a 1200-bed Army Hospital to be known as the 119th Australian General Hospital (AGH). Much to her surprise, she was appointed as Matron.
There were many difficulties for the hospital in the early period. The site selected at Bagot Compound was about 10 kilometres from the town, and as a temporary measure the army nurses were accommodated at the quarantine station travelling in and out every day in army trucks. By the end of 1941, new hospital buildings at Berrimah were sufficiently completed to move one medical officer, Matron White, six sisters and three general-duties men to this new site to prepare for occupation.
At the same time, the Administrator of the NT, Mr C L A Abbott, decreed that all civilians should be evacuated from Darwin. Following the fall of Singapore, the recently opened civilian hospital was seconded by the army for military use, which left the 119th functioning in three different locations. This caused Edith great difficulty in administration and rostering of staff.
The hospital received its first battle casualties on 18 February 1942, when eleven badly wounded patients were admitted from a convoy that had been attacked the previous day in the Timor Sea. The following day was one that Edith would never forget. She later wrote:
The 19th February 1942 was a unique and memorable day for Australia when she was attacked by enemy planes. At 10.45 a.m. an Air raid warning was heard just as enemy bombers and fighters came over the town of Darwin. For a few minutes it was not realised by staff and patients that the armada of planes overhead was the enemy approaching. The sound of the bomb explosions and ack-ack fire soon disillusioned everyone. Patients were placed under beds and those who could, made their way to the long grass. Others scrambled to the few slit trenches which had recently been dug.
Among the casualties admitted to the 119th AGH that day were hundreds of cases of burns from the ships, the wharf and the oil tanks at the harbour. The facilities for treating these were poor and the nursing staff worked for thirty-six hours straight until 190 of the most seriously injured were transferred to the Mununda, a hospital ship that had been hit at anchorage in the harbour. Despite thirteen men being killed and many wounded, the ship remained seaworthy and set sail from Darwin at 11.30 p.m. on February.
Edith's impression of the scene was recorded as follows:
The wharf was still burning . . . as I waited with four sisters who had volunteered to help the staff of the Manunda, the whole scene was one of devastation. Bodies were washed up on the beaches. Men were collecting the dead and placing them on barges for burial at sea. It was so sad to see so many ships smouldering.
As a consequence of the attack, the decision was made to move the hospital again, this time to Adelaide River. Edith now had her staff scattered over an area stretching 130 kilometres from Darwin, in five separate locations. New logistical challenges arose at the Adelaide River site, with the result that yet again the hospital was moved across to the south side of the river.
Between October and December 1942, a number of groups of women and children from the islands to the north of Australia descended upon the 119th AGH. Edith wrote:
Their admission to the hospital presented many difficulties, so few being able to speak English. They were starving and very ill . . . there were a few deaths among the nuns who were some of the refugees. They had been hiding in the hills of Timor and were badly in need of clothing.
These people numbered well over three hundred and provided a particularly difficult nursing and social challenge to her staff.
Under Edith's direction, the nursing staff of the 119th demonstrated great skill and understanding in the manner they nursed their patients under extremely difficult conditions. During the remainder of 1942 and into '43, the hospital received many casualties resulting from Australian and American operations to the north, as well as from the bombing raids over Darwin and the surrounding area.
In March 1943, Edith White was promoted to Lieutenant-Colonel in the Australian Army Nursing Service, and was promoted also to Principal Matron of the Northern Territory. In January 1945, she was appointed Principal Matron attached to the headquarters of the Australian Infantry Forces covering the areas of New Guinea, New Britain and Bougainville. She was discharged from the army on her return to Australia in 1946.
Despite playing a significant part in the care and healing of thousands of men and women in the only part of Australia where major enemy action was encountered, she was never officially recognised for her contribution.
Adapted from Australia's Frontline Matron, written by Rev. Arch Grant and included courtesy of Frontier Services
## All in a Day's Work
DARWIN, NORTHERN TERRITORY
I was a casualty nurse at Darwin Hospital back in the days when there was never enough staff and hardly a doctor to speak of. Back then, if you wanted a fast track to the top, or perhaps just a foot on a rung or two up from the bottom, Darwin was a good place to be. The order of seniority was simply who got there first and who stayed the longest, which is how, after about four months, I, a newly minted, general-trained nurse, found myself considerably higher up the scale than a newcomer who had three certificates and ten years' experience.
In the odd times when there was a lull, these highly skilled nurses might sit around rolling bandages or emptying rubbish bins while the 'old hands' like me did the nursing. Needless to say, many of them took a dim view of this and moved on.
I experienced things I might never have known had I followed a more orderly path through the ranks. We were run off our feet but what an exhilarating run it was. We used our wit and common sense, complained about double shifts and often ended up doing, or being, something entirely different by the end of the day.
One day, I was sitting beside an ambulance under a shady tree, 215 kilometres down the Stuart Highway, waiting to rendezvous with the Katherine ambulance. They had a patient who needed to have some tests in Darwin. He was old man with abdominal pain.
We got calls to lots of abdominal pains. The term covered everything from diarrhoea to childbirth. And who could argue? These things certainly caused abdominal pain. But it would have been easier if the request for an ambulance had added such descriptive words as 'because she's started labour' or 'because there's a bloody great spear hanging out of his tummy'. They'd have given clues to the sort of equipment we might need.
But this old man was the genuine thing. He certainly had abdominal pain but, as yet, no obvious diagnosis. The notes told me his tests were to see if his pain was associated with his treatment for Hansen's disease; that's leprosy. Terrific.
We did the transfer and headed back. It was not a good trip. The driving was erratic. The driver was doing double shifts as he planned to leave the next month to join the hippie trail to London via Kathmandu and he needed the money. At least the radiator held water. On a previous trip into the bush I believe this same driver peed into the leaking radiator in the hope that he might get the ambulance to a vaguely remembered waterhole. Both he and the nurse survived so I guess he found it.
My legs were beginning to feel as if they were part of the ambulance furniture. I shook them and the stretcher moved. I started feeling sick from the heat and the fumes seeping into the back of the van. Before the outskirts of Darwin I was holding the patient in my arms and sharing the sick bowl.
The same day, and two hours after I was supposed to have finished my shift, I had to jump back in that ambulance and head back down the track to a spot where a man was reported to have slit his throat.
A few miles past the turn-off to Humpty Doo we found the man who would guide us to the scene. We followed some tyre tracks until they petered out, then we walked. It was getting towards the end of the Wet and the spear grass towered over us and made the whole thing just a teeny bit spooky. I was already a bit jumpy not knowing the circumstances that precipitated the cut throat, or even whether he was alive or dead.
Then, at last, a clearing. A body wrapped in a blanket lay on the ground beside a dead fire. A little further away what looked like a man was propped against the trunk of a tree. A brown paper shopping bag covered his head. I didn't have a good feeling about any of it and for the first time that day I was glad the driver had come with me.
I went to the blanket by the fire and lifted a flap. There was a grunt and an arm shot out and pointed towards the tree. I saw the blood down the front of this second man's shirt before I got to him, but his breathing was okay and he had a regular pulse. The paper bag came away easily and revealed an elderly man with a bushy grey beard. There had been a lot of blood but it was hard to tell what damage there was. I told him I would take him to the hospital. He mumbled an apology.
Back at the hospital, a woman in the waiting room saw him come in and told me his name. He's not well, she said, touching her head. I found his file in Records. It was a thick one. He has done this before. Poor, poor old man. Surely somewhere in the country, there is a psychiatrist who could spend some time in Darwin.
Not every day called for escort trips out and about, but every day was busy, interesting and challenging and altogether one of the best times of my life.
Margaret Hanlon Dunn, retired registered nurse
## Stranded
BIRDSVILLE, FAR SOUTH-WEST QUEENSLAND
Having returned home, after about sixteen months in Oodnadatta, I found it difficult to settle back into the big smoke and yearned for the wide-open spaces and beautiful countryside as I battled the traffic in the concrete jungle. So when Wendy contacted me in 1978 to join her out in Birdsville I jumped at the chance to breathe in a little more red dust.
We arrived in town and met the locals gathered at the airstrip waiting to pick up their provisions from the weekly plane. After a week of settling in and learning that we didn't have wheels, following the hospital car's demise in an accident, the other sister departed in her own jeep, leaving us high and dry. While plans were afoot to get another vehicle, we knew that nothing happened fast in the bush.
A few months later our 4WD arrived and I'm sure the first few tanks of petrol were laced with kangaroo juice. We enjoyed the freedom of being able to pick up our own groceries, the Flying Doctor crew from the airstrip and even have a picnic tea down at the waterhole without having to borrow the policeman's family car.
Once mobile, we reinstituted the clinic run up to Bedourie, some 190 kilometres from Birdsville as the crow flies. That township, nestled near the Hamilton Creek, which fed into the Diamantina River, was surrounded by mud flats and watercourses on two sides. Normally everyone used the straight, low road during fine weather but after heavy rain the low road became inundated and the higher flood road was the only way into Bedourie. Because of the unpredictability of driving on the clay road after rain, most people avoided going out of town if they could; that included us.
A couple of months later, I cancelled the routine clinic run because of bad weather and settled into a day at home with a good book. That was until an urgent medical call came through requesting assistance for an injured drover with a suspected broken leg. The drover was moving cattle to the east of one of the camps when he was kicked in the knee by a beast and couldn't walk. With the Bedourie airstrip flooded, the Flying Doctor had no alternative but to ask one of us to drive the 320 kilometres on the flood road to assess the man's injuries. So while the camp boss negotiated the 80 kilometres through thick mud and over fast-flowing creeks to reach Bedourie, I set out on my journey armed with a mud map from the local constabulary.
About three hours into the trip, I missed the turn-off and churned through crusty black soil until I became bogged when the surface crumbled under the weight of the truck. As the truck sank in the sticky quagmire, I removed my shoes and socks and rolled up my jeans before jumping out of the truck to survey the damage. When I saw that I was stuck in mud up to the doors, I made a cup of tea from our hot-water thermos before sloshing around in the knee-deep mud to plan my extrication.
Easier said than done, I decided, after the planks of wood and hessian bags disappeared into the muddy water, followed close behind by the prickly vines I'd stripped from a bush. A couple of hours later, I was exhausted from digging and playing in the muddy plains and despondently returned to the truck cabin a mud-splattered mess. I was grateful for the mud covering when the water-loving insects emerged at sunset and invaded the cabin in search of food.
Having raided the tucker box, I divided the meagre provisions into three portions as I didn't expect to be found until morning at the earliest. My thoughts went to the poor bloke with the broken leg but I was afraid that he'd just have to tough it out as I was stuck fast. As the quarter moon rose and the stars twinkled in the dark sky, I became more disheartened with the passing hours and rebuked myself for being inattentive and getting bogged.
A while later I thought that I was dreaming when I saw dancing headlights in the distance, but as they grew closer I knew that Wendy must have alerted the surrounding properties that I was missing. Sure enough, the two chaps had come to rescue me from my muddy dilemma and were relieved to see that I was still in one piece. With a concerted effort and engines revving, my truck was chain-pulled out of the quagmire and we headed to their homestead for a hot meal.
Being conscious of my responsibilities to my patient, I declined their generous offer to stay the night and continued my trip some 32 kilometres further on. It was after midnight when I got to the darkened town and the only light came from the back of the pub; I headed straight there like a moth to a flame.
After the hotelier recovered from the shock of seeing a pale-faced, mud-spattered apparition appear at her back door, she made me a cuppa. I could have done with something stronger but I was on duty! My patient had apparently treated himself to pain relief from the bar before retiring in his swag on the pub verandah. His loud snoring indicated that he was adequately medicated.
Early the following morning I checked him over before consulting the doctor on the radio session, and decided to leave him in town to rest his bruised knee for a few days.
While I was there, I decided to conduct a clinic before heading back home and my tardy appearance got a few funny looks from the townsfolk. Without a change of clothes, I'd crawled back into my stiff mud-caked jeans and jumper that morning.
In due course I arrived back at the Birdsville Hospital and peeled of my filthy clothes before hitting the shower. All in a day's work for bush nurses!
Sue Nilon, retired registered nurse
## Down the Hole
COOBER PEDY, NORTHERN SOUTH AUSTRALIA
One never knew day or night what might come through the front door of the medical centre. Carol was in charge, and was certainly a very efficient and creative boss. It can't have been easy to coordinate such a changing and potentially critical scene, and I admired her for the way she did it.
One day, the phone rang and a panic-stricken voice communicated the latest crisis. A miner had fallen down an 80-foot drill hole and would need a shot of painkiller before being winched to the top. Carol looked across at me. Would I be prepared to go down a hole that deep via a narrow dirt opening in the ground not much wider than myself? 'Yes,' I said. 'I'll go.'
I collected the analgesia and a syringe, changed into my jeans, and went with the ambulance crew out to the Eight Mile mine. 'Don't let your feet hit the sides too much as you go or the dirt will fall below.' This instruction echoed in my head as I perched on the narrow piece of wood that was to lower me down the dim shaft. I clutched firmly at the ropes attached to my unstable seat, dangling my feet as straight as possible as the winch dropped me slowly downwards to the injured man waiting below.
He said nothing when I reached him. Pale under facial dirt and sweat, his body crumpled up under him, this man showed the pain and anguish that did not need words. I administered the analgesic, spoke encouragingly of the soon-to-come rescuers, and was raised upwards again the same way I had come.
Remaining to watch, I was so impressed with the efficiency and gentleness of the Coober Pedy rescue team. We flew our patient to Port Augusta that night for proper assessment and treatment, where he eventually recovered.
Audrey Aspeling, retired registered nurse and midwife
## Hot Shots
HALLS CREEK, KIMBERLEY REGION, WESTERN AUSTRALIA
One of the tasks we had to learn was to take and develop X-rays. On my fourth day's orientation in Derby en route to Halls Creek, I had been given a lesson in taking them and printing them.
By March, we were having trouble with film clarity and after a discussion by radio with Derby, we became more diligent in replacing the film bath regularly. It was a smelly job and, in retrospect, environmentally unsound; we just tipped it in the garden!
This, however, wasn't enough, so the Derby radiologist offered to come out on the monthly Flying Doctor clinic. I think he also wanted to see Halls Creek. We demonstrated what we did and he said our execution of the X-ray was fine and the machine was okay. We then developed the film. As the chemical bath was hotter than normal, we used to leave the film in for less than the standard time and in cool weather we adjusted for this. I developed a film and he was staggered at how quickly I was back out of the room.
'No wonder they don't come out,' he said. 'You have to leave them in each tank for five minutes.' The room we used was normally 38 to 44 degrees Celsius, so we suggested he show us.
He abandoned the development after five minutes and said he would sort something out. He then spent the day testing times for maximum exposure and minimum enclosure in the room. He went into town, bought a big red timer so we were accurate and advised us not to stay in there rinsing the film but to go out and use the garden hose.
Adapted from 'X-ray' by Michelle Meehan, registered nurse, AIM, Halls Creek 1970–1972, courtesy of the Kimberley Nurses History Group publication, Boughsheds: Boabs and Bandage: Stories of Nursing in the Kimberley
## At Home in Marree
MARREE, CENTRAL SOUTH AUSTRALIA
I'd been doing relief work with the Child Health Service in Tasmania and then around country hospitals in South Australia, when I decided I was tired of living out of a suitcase and accepted a job with the Royal District Nursing Service of South Australia (RDNS) working at the Marree Hospital in the centre of the state. I came here for five years and thirty years later, I'm still here!
The RDNS was formed in 1912 and was one of the first nursing services in South Australia. In 2006, the Marree Hospital was taken over by the Royal Flying Doctor Service (RFDS) Central Operations and renamed the Marree RFDS Health Service. Technically we are still a registered public hospital with two beds, but only for short-term/acute admissions.
I am the only full-time staff member; however, I am fortunate to have two ladies in the district who are registered nurses interested in keeping their registrations current by assisting at the Service, which allows me to do patient transportations at times and to get away for study or training opportunities and holidays.
When I first drove up to Marree, the road was all dirt from Hawker and used to wind through Beltana. Now there is mostly bitumen all the way and it bypasses Beltana altogether. There are only 47 kilometres of dirt left to seal now between Lyndhurst and Marree.
There was a dust storm every day during the first week I was here as the area was in its sixth or seventh year of drought. It was very dusty and, depending on the wind direction, I had to shovel dirt from the front and/or back verandah each day as the gauze screens didn't keep anything out.
Apart from the weather, I had to get used to using a two-way radio even though the telephone had come to Marree about two years before – this was just as the Ghan (train) stopped coming through Marree. There was still a passenger and goods train to the area until 1986 and Stateliner Bus used to bring the mail and passengers, but the bus stopped at about the end of 1988. From then the mail came up to Leigh Creek by air or road, and later by a mail contractor by road. There has been no public transport in or out of Marree since then, which can be a bit of a logistical nightmare for patients who don't have transport and need to attend appointments eight hours away in the city.
Even before the RFDS took over, they were doing regular clinic visits and emergency evacuations in Marree. I had to learn early on how to check the dirt/gravel airstrip before the plane could land, and where to put the flares for night landings and departures. These days Marree has a bitumen strip and electric lighting but we still use the flares if the generator fails. We get used to seeing the red belly of the RFDS plane around here – it lands in Marree on average once a week.
We've had lots of accidents over the years, though, fortunately, not many of them fatal. We had seven people in a motor vehicle accident once, which was a bit hectic, but most of them were actually okay, just shocked. One person was nearly scalped so the RFDS came and retrieved her. At one stage, I had so many people turning up with knee injuries, I was getting really good at predicting what their X-rays and tests would show!
It's always rewarding to see your successes walking around. One day, I was just going back into the room where there was a sick baby awaiting the RFDS retrieval team plane when she stopped breathing, literally just as I entered room. I was able to resuscitate her and get her away on the aircraft. She now has children of her own, which is wonderful to see. Many ladies have had babies over the years, but most relocate to a bigger town three weeks before their due date so they can be closer to major hospital services. So I've only actually helped deliver one baby since I've been here. In the first few years a lot of women went into premature labour and had to go south, sometimes for many weeks or months.
The first time I had to suture a horse, out in the middle of the paddock, I became very good at jumping out of the way. That was another skill I had to learn: treating animals. When you're the only person around who might know how, everyone asks!
There have been many incidents over the years, some of which I'd like to forget. I know one of the situations I had to get used to very quickly when I first moved to Marree was the amount of drinking and fighting. After a while, I could work out which nights I'd be working by the music that was playing around town. It doesn't happen so much now, but when certain music's playing, I still keep an ear out. I wasn't a great fan of Slim Dusty music when I came to Marree but I soon became one, when I realised I could relax when I heard it playing.
As you would expect, the population has changed over the years – well, some of the population. There are some that have gone away and moved back again. There are the past residents that come back for social events such as races, gymkhanas and camel cup, who are sometimes hard to recognise, but they remember you. There are lots coming back now with their own children, some of whom look just like their parents at the same age, especially at the local swimming pool. Yes, we have a school/community pool, which was installed the first year I came to Marree. I have been a supervisor at community sessions ever since.
We have quite a lot of sporting and fitness activities available. Night tennis is played over summer months since the local Progress Association had lights and fencing installed on the tennis courts. We also play indoor cricket under lights. We hold aquarobics in the pool over the warmer months and at present we're into Zumba in the cooler months. There are public swimming sessions seven days a week from October to April, and there is a town gym, a football oval (with no grass) and a fitness track next to it. When I first came, I was really into ballroom dancing so I used to hold sessions and even had some of the older residents coming along who usually didn't go out, but we haven't held these for many years. There is darts at the local hotel, which is really well attended, and not everyone who plays is an alcohol drinker.
There are actually a lot of people in Marree; we have a population of only about 100 (if everyone is home), but that number can treble when Lake Eyre is full as it has done twice in the past couple of years. Lots of tourists come to Marree to either drive in to or fly over the lake – it's quite spectacular.
I certainly didn't plan to be in Marree forever, but even though I don't have family as such in Marree, I feel I have a big extended family with all the friends I have made over the years. The school nominated me for a Children's Week award many years ago; I was one of the first community nurses nominated by a school and I did receive the award. I was a finalist in the Nurse of the Year in 1999 and featured on Random Acts of Kindness in 2009. I was privileged to be awarded an Order of Australia Medal (OAM) in the Queen's Birthday List 2009. Each and every one was a huge surprise but those things make you feel that you must be doing something right.
I am still enjoying the work and I hope not to leave Marree for a few more years. It is the people you meet as well as the lifestyle and work situation that make up the remote area experience. I can attest to the fact that this job is definitely not boring or monotonous, as you never know what is in store. There will always be lots of interesting characters to meet and challenges to face. It is amazing how your outlook broadens through an experience like this.
June Andrew, OAM, registered nurse, midwife
## Outback Serendipity
BIRDSVILLE, FAR SOUTH-WEST QUEENSLAND
As a registered nurse, I was a girl on a mission to find excitement when I joined Frontier Services in 1982. Backpacking around Europe for nearly two years had not whetted my appetite for adventure so I decided to try the outback.
Given a choice, I chose Birdsville because I'd seen a model of the Birdsville Pub at the Munich Beerfest in Germany, and I thought it looked pretty cool. Within two weeks of my interview, I was on a plane to Birdsville, via an orientation week in Charleville. I didn't spend much time at the hospital though. I spent most of it with the local vet learning how to stitch up and treat animals. Just in case . . .
The nurses of the AIM and Frontier Services have, historically, been required to turn their hand to anything and my first job in Birdsville was to help unload the plane. I then delivered the next fortnight's fruit and vegetables to the hospital, where I introduced myself to the other RN, Leanne Hemer. Between us, we provided all the local medical services, supported by a monthly RFDS clinic. We also did all the vet work around the area. We were even expected to teach Sunday school, although I always managed to avoid that! We baked for social events and sold tickets in raffles. Happily, the Birdsville Pub lived up to all my expectations and I fell in love with one of the owners, Kym Fort, whom I eventually married.
Relocating to Adelaide, I undertook an advanced course in clinical nursing, followed by midwifery and then a neonatal intensive care course. In 1995, I returned to Frontier Services and the Birdsville Hospital for several years. I was much more dedicated to the job and enjoyed working with a young university-trained nurse, Kersten Davis. Kersten was committed to primary health care and evidence-based nursing practice whereas, by then, I was fascinated by the positive health care benefits of complimentary therapies such as aromatherapy. Our partnership worked really well because we were able to see the alternatives and provide the community with real options. Of course, there were some challenges; you become so close to people in a small remote community that, while you personally share the joy you also share the tragedy. Our job was to provide whatever was needed to enhance the lives of everyone who lived in the Birdsville region. I always felt we made a very real difference; generally, it was an absolute privilege.
These days, I have retired from nursing, working instead as the general manager of the Outback Loop Birdsville and Innamincka hotels. With our hearts still firmly entrenched in Birdsville, Kym and I spend our time between Adelaide, Birdsville and Innamincka.
Jo Fort (nee Laurie), Retired registered nurse, midwife, neo-natal nurse
## Every Day's a Training Day . . .
CENTRAL AUSTRALIA
Growing up on the Tweed River in the 1950s, I never had any sense of racism at all. My nine brothers and sisters and I went to school with white kids and we were just one big crowd of friends. We'd have sleepovers at each other's houses and my mother would say she reckoned she didn't know whose head was what. There were dark heads and blonde together. We always knew who we were though. We're Bunjalung.
Someone once told my mother that the community should be looking after her children. My mother is a very wise lady and she said, 'The only person looking after my ten children is me!' She didn't go for this kinship kind of thing. That's the way she was and that's the way I am. I moved my family up to Nerang when they were very little.
I'd been working in aged care on the Gold Coast, when I decided to go to Docker River to work in 1997. It's out past Ayers Rock, about 250 kilometres down a dirt road. I had no idea where I was going. I worked as a carer in aged care there. After about six months, an old guy asked me if I was Aboriginal. I said I was and then he said I should become a health worker. I had no idea what that was so I went over to the clinic and spoke to the nurse.
She explained it all to me and then we had to take it to the local council. They wanted me to train as well so I worked in aged care and two days a week I worked in the clinic on my own time. I did my course through Batchelor (Batchelor Institute of Indigenous Tertiary Education). Because I couldn't do blocks I actually said I'd do everything on the community and then, when I go on leave, I'd stay in Alice Springs and complete the Cert III (in Aboriginal Health Work). I was on a mission and did it in six months. (It usually takes two years.)
Then I applied for a job and ended up on Bathurst Island. I was a new chum! I had no idea where the Tiwi people were and, really, no idea what I was doing but I learnt fast. The experience was I went there for five years and set up and managed their first aged care program. And I started teaching Aboriginal girls to be carers in aged care. I'm very keen on training.
After that I went and worked remote for a while, then ended up as clinic manager for Congress (Central Australia Aboriginal Congress) in about 2006. I tried to retire in 2010. I went home but the whole thing is I do feel for the people in the Northern Territory so I went back. I'm based in Alice Springs and I work wherever I'm needed.
As a clinical health practitioner, every day is a training day for me as sometimes I'm learning things and often I'm teaching them. A lot of nurses get sent up here who can't put a cannula in, who can't do an ECG, so I show them how. I encourage our young Aboriginal workers to do the training, to learn as much as they can, because they're the ones who'll be here long after the nurses have packed up and gone. The nurses don't stay too long because it gets too stressful for them.
I have managed clinics and still do sometimes when I'm needed. On a normal day I might do the equipment checks, set up and use the screening machines, do the ECGs and things. I can take blood, stitch a wound and put in a cannula. I do pregnancy check-ups and provide the health care people in the community need.
We attend accidents out on the highways or in the bush, providing patient care and treatment, assessing and making judgements about whether to medicate or ring the DMO on call. So I can pretty much do most of what a nurse can do.
One of the problems is, back in 1998, there were 400 Aboriginal health workers registered in the Northern Territory; today there are barely 200. It's got to do with lots of things. With the health workers, some of the people have retired or walked away because they've been made to feel like they're not doing their jobs for their people.
I don't get angry but I do get frustrated sometimes. I'm very passionate about what I do and I've been in the job for nearly sixteen years. The biggest problem is most of the nurses have no respect for and no understanding of Aboriginal people. They are there to do a job; they shouldn't get involved in family issues on the community. It's nothing to do with them. Some people are very narrow-minded. They wear rose-coloured glasses and they can't see the big picture.
I'm sixty-two now, but I look after myself and the passion will always be there so I reckon if I'm still okay I'll keep going. I don't work as hard as I used to. I go home for breaks now. Every now and then I jump on a Qantas plane and visit my girls back in Queensland or go see a friend in Darwin. I just turn up . . .
Jo Appoo, Aboriginal clinical health practitioner
Clinical health practitioner Jo Appoo is passionate about her work in Central Australia and says she'll keep working for as long as she's able to.
## Elcho Experience
ELCHO ISLAND, NORTHERN TERRITORY
I began my journey as a remote area nurse in the Northern Territory at the start of 2010. I was living in Melbourne at the time, working in community health, which I enjoyed, but contemplating a new direction. I came across an advertisement for a relief nurse in remote Northern Territory and immediately it spurred my interest. I applied to work with the Remote Area Health Corps and within a couple of months I had a two-month posting to Elcho Island, a remote island, in the Arafura Sea, right up in the top end of Australia.
Initially, I attended cultural training, in Darwin, at the Charles Darwin University. However brief, it involved first-hand knowledge of Aboriginal culture and being my first exposure to the teachings, I was looking forward to building on this experience.
The plane to Elcho was a small twin-engine aircraft that seats thirty people; I had never been on a plane so small! There was a stopover to Maningrida and when I stepped off the plane I realised that I was in Arnhem Land. Although it was January, in the midst of the wet season, the aridness of the land was still apparent. The vastness of the land was striking and the rich ochre colour of the dirt made the tall thin, trees and scant buildings surrounding the airport stand out in contrast.
Finally, we arrived on Elcho Island, home of the Yolngu. I was greeted by the health centre manager and taken straight to my place of residence in downtown Galiwinku. As we drove, I was confronted by a place with a shanty town edge, houses scattered with hand paintings and open doors, families and babies and dogs spilling out onto their front gardens and the partially bituminised roads. The locals walking on the road were casually going about their daily business, while our car weaved around them and the road-savvy camp dogs.
After my first day of trying to adjust to my new surroundings and work life, I took a trip to the local shop. On my way I was greeted by curious onlookers, asking me, 'What's your name, yapa?' Not knowing the word they were using, I was happy to find out that they were calling me 'sister' a common term to use for a female you don't know. With this knowledge, I instantly felt welcomed.
Growing up in Adelaide and living in Melbourne, I'd had limited travel experience. On Elcho, I remembered being in the local shop for the first time and feeling quite overwhelmed. I was the only white person that I could see. They called me 'balanda' or 'white person'. To focus on one's skin colour was a concept that I had not really reflected upon before. Neither had I been seen and called on the basis of my colour. The confrontation of the moment was enlightening. It made me aware of the feelings that one would experience in another culture. Furthermore, it gave me a glimpse of what one might feel if they were the only Aboriginal person in a predominantly white environment, especially if they were referred to directly as a black fella, or Aboriginal. I had never thought about this before and the intensity of the moment was groundbreaking for me.
My house was a luxurious place. I was quite lucky to land this type of accommodation. Yet after a few days in the place, I noticed scratching coming from the airconditioner throughout the night and each night it was getting louder and louder. I took respite in the lounge room and later reported it at work. The local electrician was the one who dealt with the problem. Working on standard 'island time', two or three weeks later, he 'promptly' investigated the airconditioner and found not one, not two, but a whole family of rats in residence. He stated to me that afternoon that the problem was 'dealt with' and in my sleep-deprived state I couldn't wait to return to bed that night! Finally I rested my head. The next eight hours were accompanied by an orchestra of vocal rat sounds. They were trying to escape because they were plugged in with rat poison and so I listened to each one of their untimely deaths. Next day I slept!
The most impressive aesthetic of Galiwinku was the beachfront. The work office was set just behind 'beach camp'. The incline of the road heading towards the centre of town was lined with palm trees, which were often stooped to the right, due to a good storm. There sat, before the winding path to the shore, a solitary piece of playground equipment on which I often spent the late afternoon watching the sunset, talking to the local children or witnessing the foreboding clouds in the distance. The sunsets from that beachfront are still, to this day, the best I have ever seen and watching the local people drag their boats in to shore was really quite magical.
The camp dogs, however, were another story! I became aware of the beach-side dogs on my first beach walk. There was a pack leader to the beach camp crew; inherently assertive, he seemed to have human attributes, with the palest blue eyes that you have ever seen on a dog. On one of many long walks along the beach, they decided to turn on me. The weather was changing and a storm was brewing. The dogs collected together and started to run towards me, all ten of them! I had become aware of what to do in a situation like this: you stand your ground and even if you don't have a rock you hold your clenched fist in position above your head and scream 'Sha!', which literally means 'go away!'
But this situation was different and it was obvious that a simple proclamation of 'Sha!' was not going to work, so I ran for my life and screamed up to the beach camp for help! Momentarily I fell, slipping on a wet rock and cutting my wrist. Finally I heard a local lady coming towards me to help me. The surprising thing is that the dogs really listen to the local people; they have a strong level of control over the dogs. The lady who came to assist me threw rocks at the dogs and they scampered away. She was kind enough to join me on my subsequent walks along the beach, hurling rocks as we talked.
The outreach work was amazing. We would fly in a single-engine plane twice a week to small remote communities, to set up a clinic for acute and chronic health care. On Tuesdays we would visit surrounding communities by 4WD and on Thursdays we would commute to the other end of the island, Gawa. I had never learnt how to drive a manual car, let alone in 4WD conditions, but I learnt quickly! So I would set off in river-like conditions with a nurse who didn't like using the vehicle in 4WD, and an Aboriginal health Worker. The conditions were difficult, but I soon learnt which part of the road was passable. Surprisingly, I never got bogged. The best part of driving was listening to the health worker, who was later to become my mari (adopted grandmother), spot wildlife. Despite her glasses she had impeccable eyesight. For instance, she would exclaim 'bapi!' in Yolngu Mathu and we would try to see where the snake was, watching her point in a particular direction.
Mapuru is a community that became dear to my heart. We flew to the small community on the mainland of Australia every Monday. During one flight to Mapuru the dirt strip was inundated from the recent 'yindi' rain or 'big' rain. However, the pilot proceeded to come in and when the back wheels hit the ground, the front wheels did not follow and so we continued to skid along the strip with the nose of the plane in the air until suddenly it fell forward. That was a bit of a hairy landing!
To get to the community, one had to trudge through a river. We carried everything that we needed for the day at the clinic with us, all of the medical supplies, laptops, equipment and so forth, so it was quite the task to manoeuvre carrying the luggage while trying to avoid getting wet. Shoes were never an option! The health care team, including the visiting GP, had to roll up their pants and battle the river to get to the other side. There was seldom diesel to power the generator when we were operating the clinic. For privacy we used the clinic room and when taking blood it was best to line the person up in the direct sunlight, shining in through the window, to ensure best access to a vein. The level of humidity meant your clothes would be soaked with sweat within half an hour of being in the tin-encased room, so more often than not we'd move the clinic out on the porch or under the tree, which was far more accommodating for everyone.
During my visits to Mapuru, I observed one lady who would often rouse the people and get them to come along to be seen. She had a mop of ringlets that would gyrate as she waved her arms around, shouting in Yolngu Matha to the slow movers, to tell them to 'boundi!' or 'hurry up!' She was a character who I instantly warmed to; she and the Old Man used to sit and talk to me, often asking if I was 'adopted'. Old Man would ask me every time I came to Mapuru, if I was 'adopted', and each time I would answer politely, 'No, I'm not adopted, I have a family.' Not really understanding why he kept asking, it got to the point where I was thinking, Maybe he thought I had no family back home?
After a few weeks on the island I had gathered that balanda often get 'adopted' by local Indigenous people to learn about culture and be a part of family, to form a connection and understanding of Aboriginal traditions. After having a chat with Old Man on friendship and family, I was happy to become 'adopted'. I was given a skin name and he bestowed me with the name 'Morning Star'. I was quite honoured and that is how the lady that I worked with, the senior Aboriginal health worker, became by kinship my grandmother or 'Mari'. This was fantastic because we already were great friends and she was teaching me the local language, due to my interest and enthusiasm.
When I was leaving Elcho Island, I had a farewell with the health centre staff and friends I had made. As I was leaving, I was told that I had something waiting for me at the office, a present from my 'nandi' (mother) from Mapuru. She had a large basket flown over on the plane, which she had woven for me with brilliant craftsmanship and vibrant Mapuru colours. I was delighted. I wanted to show her my appreciation. I went on a trip to Cambodia and while I was there, I visited a small village and found some beautiful handmade baskets. When I returned to Elcho Island the second time, I went to Mapuru and gave her the best basket that I had found. She studied the basket and was pleased, but seemed more excited to see me!
Experiences like these can be life altering and it certainly was for me. Since then, I have embarked on many more 'out bush' experiences and will continue working in remote locations in Indigenous health.
Sarah Emily Hamm, registered nurse
Sarah Emily Hamm and her colleagues had to trudge through a river with a wheelbarrow holding their work gear – including medical supplies and laptops – to reach Mapuru in Arhnem Land.
## Dedication
KIMBERLEY REGION, WESTERN AUSTRALIA
I was providing a service in women's health to a remote area covering a 200-kilometre radius. This area consisted of about 40 Aboriginal communities, mostly quite small and inaccessible during the wet season. Many of the women in these communities had no access to women's health, unless they specifically made their way into town for this important check-up.
Most women don't have transport so when they come to town it is usually in a car full of other community members who all have their own agenda for being in town, and a woman wanting a Pap smear is probably not a priority for the rest of the car load. Because transport is always an issue, many of these women were either very overdue or had never had a Pap smear, which is why I took myself to them. With my Pap smear box under one arm and my head torch poised and ready, I made my way out to most of the communities over a twelve-month period.
I remember one day in November, which is a time of the year that is notoriously known as the 'build-up', I attended to a number a Pap smears in a small room with no airconditioning or fan. I can tell you, it wasn't only the clients' crotches that were sweaty that day!
At another community my only option was to provide women's health checks in a kitchen, once again without airconditioning. Fortunately the fan was working; however, when the fan was going it blew the curtains out, which took away any privacy. So, just before attending to each Pap smear I would turn the fan off and hope that the sweat dripping from my neck didn't land where it wasn't supposed to!
I am very proud to say that I performed many Pap smears that year and to women who really needed them. It was certainly worth the brief moments of discomfort.
Vanessa Page, registered nurse and midwife
Nurse and midwife Vanessa Page sees patients across a 200-kilometre radius among some forty Aboriginal communities in the Kimberley region of Western Australia.
## Looking After Bill
TARA, DARLING DOWNS, QUEENSLAND
I was working in the area of Tara on the Darling Downs as a home and community care coordinator. I was on my daily round of home visits and was on my way to see old Bill, who lived alone on his 1000-acre property. I had driven from a neighbouring property and entered via the back entrance down a track. It certainly wasn't what you'd call a road; more, deep gutters that looked like a parting in the bush.
After a cup of tea, a set of observations and a routine check of his vital call equipment (links through the phone line in case of emergency), I was on my way. It had been raining quite heavily a few days before but the water had receded from across the small bridge that was linked to the two dams on the property. The road was very muddy and slippery and there were cattle wandering across the paddock onto my path. I was creeping along in the car but all of a sudden I felt the vehicle slide and I had no control. The car did a total 360, going around a large tree to the side of the track, around a couple of bewildered cows and back onto the track with the car facing forward, gliding me out of the front gate.
I didn't know it at the time but old Bill was watching from his kitchen window. He was quite astonished at my car skills; little did he know they were non-existent at the time.
I stopped down the road to catch my breath. I looked out of the window to see a small wallaby peering at me from behind a bush. I thought to myself, I have just done this incredible driving feat and survived but all I have around to give me a standing ovation is a kangaroo. I gave it a smile and drove on to my next appointment.
Off to old Bill's place again, but I found he wasn't home. He had poor vision and shouldn't drive so I wondered where he was. I was travelling on a dirt road heading towards the next home visit when lo and behold old Bill saw me and pulled up in a cloud of dust in his worn-out ute. I needed to take his blood glucose level and check his blood pressure and with no-one likely to come along, we sat on the back of the ute in the middle of the bush and I conducted the health check. I asked him where he was going and he replied he was going into town to do a bit of shopping. Poor vision or not, he was determined not to give up the driving and no-one could convince him other-wise. I didn't argue because I knew I wouldn't win but it did get a mention to the local doctor.
It was always interesting to visit old Bill. On another day I decided to take my husband and baby to visit as he always asked about them and I knew he often got lonely. I pulled up in the car only to have a gunshot sound above my head. I looked up and noticed that the grandson was visiting and he had found old Bill's 22 rifle and was taking pot shots, from the verandah, of anything that moved. I sounded the horn to alert old Bill and I heard some yelling coming from inside. Bill hadn't noticed the boy sneak the rifle out of the house. The boy copped a whack over the head with the back of the hand. A few apologies were made and after that the visit went smoothly.
Tess Robinson, registered nurse
## The Bus Trip
STUART HIGHWAY, NORTHERN TERRITORY
When on holidays, it's time to get away from it all and leave work behind. For a nurse, however, it isn't always possible.
I was in the Northern Territory, doing a bus trip from Darwin to Katherine and back. We saw lots of sights and even took a cruise on Katherine Gorge. We were all in tourist mode. On the way home, we stopped for afternoon tea. One of my fellow passengers sustained a nasty gash on his hand. If we had been within cooee of a hospital, I would have asked the driver to take him there to have the wound sutured. However, that was not to be, so I made do with the first-aid kit on the bus. The casualty was allergic to the antiseptic solution in the kit, so I needed to scrounge around elsewhere to find one he could tolerate, then steri-stripped the gash and secured the wound as firmly as I could. I then gave him strict orders to get it attended to at the hospital when we got back to Darwin.
At our next refreshment stop another passenger complained of stomach cramps and feeling faint. I'd noticed she hadn't drunk much water all day, and it was quite hot. She was pale and her skin turgor was poor. Managing a stubborn, dehydrated patient was challenging, but the driver and I kept her stable enough until we got to Darwin Hospital for proper treatment. So much for being on holidays!
I caught up with the bus driver again the next morning. A knowledgeable bloke, he was a walking encyclopaedia on practically everything Territorian. He told me I taught him something. On every future trip, he said he would find out who among the passengers was a nurse or a doctor.
Ruth Tye, registered nurse
## Locked Up
PRISON SYSTEM, NEW SOUTH WALES
I'd been working in a low-security prison at Oberon when the opportunity came up for us to go up and relieve for a couple of weeks at Ampilatwatja, a community near Utopia, north-east of Alice Springs.
The prison at Oberon was 70 kilometres from town on a dirt road. It's an open prison, which means that it has no boundaries and the young offenders, all boys, who go there, are there on a trust basis. If they blow it, they go back into a lock-up. The young men there are on a kind of training program. They go for debriefing sessions out in the bush, learn to climb and abseil, go orienteering and generally learn skills that hopefully help them assimilate back into society and stay out of trouble. They are well supported and it's a pretty successful program.
I was the only nurse there, so I had lots of autonomy medically. The doctor would come once a week to see anyone I thought he needed to see. Anything at all suspicious, like an appendix for instance, we'd ship out to Oberon Hospital.
Before that I had a casual/part-time job at Mulawa, the women's prison at Silverwater. At the same time I was working a second casual/part-time job at a private boarding school in Sydney. I'd leave one job and go straight to the other some days so it was a real contrast.
Some of the boys were fascinated by my other job and asked lots of questions about the women. They were so totally different: the women at Mulawa were the toughest of the tough; they had committed the worst possible crimes imaginable.
The most interesting thing about the boarding school was the attitude of some of the mothers. The isolated mothers of boarders would pull out all the stops to get down there if their sons were sick or hurt. Some of the mothers of city boys would say, 'I'm busy. You deal with it!'
Isolation is not always geographic.
Rhonda Smith, registered nurse
## The Nurse who Listened to Her Heart
BIDYADANGA, NORTH-WEST WESTERN AUSTRALIA
As you drive south from Broome to Bidyadanga, sweeping across the Roebuck Plains, the world unfolds before your eyes. Kite hawks whirl overhead, hump-backed Brahman cattle graze sacredly in the long grass. The sky is a shimmering blue, laden with humidity.
Two hours later you turn off the Great Northern Highway past a sign of multi-coloured handprints that advertises the local arts centre. This is a good sign . . . it points to hope.
The road into the community is flanked by red pindan dirt and dotted with fat termite mounds whose denizens forage at night for spinifex. Bidyadanga itself is neat, dusty and relaxed. People amble by. Nothing is hurried. Once known as the La Grange Mission, this is the largest Aboriginal community in Western Australia. Twelve hundred people live here. Among them is a relative newcomer who we have come to see.
Her name is Sue Stewart and she runs the local health clinic, a nurse-run clinic powered by Aboriginal health workers. Sue Stewart's journey to Bidyadanga began four years ago when she and her husband Barry were on a trip around Australia. After leaving Gippsland in Victoria, they headed west, hit Perth, turned right and made their way up the WA coast.
They camped one night at the Port Smith caravan park, a popular stop for grey nomads on the way to the pearls and pizzazz of modern-day Broome.
There that evening, under a starry night sky, they enjoyed a performance by the Family Shoveller Band, a well-known local Aboriginal group. The mother of one of the Shovellers got talking to Sue, invited her to check out the Bidyadanga clinic, and thereby planted a seed that grew into a new life. That woman was Christine Farrer, who works on reception at the clinic and who is now one of Sue Stewart's best friends.
Not long after returning to Victoria, Sue made up her mind; she wanted to give it a go at Bidgy. So she quit her job as charge nurse of the dialysis unit at Bairnsdale Hospital and told Barry it was her turn now. That was code for 'sell your trucking business and come with me'. Nicholson River Transport was duly put on the block and the Stewarts relocated several parallels above the Tropic of Capricorn.
As Sue drives me around Bidyadanga, pointing out the store, the swimming pool that helps to keep the kids healthy and the church, it's clear that this was a good decision. She is happy, she has simplified her life and she is using her skills to make a difference to people she loves. There is also a lot of laughter in the Bidyadanga clinic, which makes for a wonderful working environment.
Sue is patient, has gained acceptance and, while still occasionally perplexed by some of the cultural differences between black and white Australia, has learnt to go with the flow. 'This is how it is,' she explains, referring to a clinic where there are no appointment times.
She is proud of the strength of her new community, where traditional law is still taught. One of her grandsons had the time of his life when he came to visit Sue and spent a term at the local school. He was taken fishing, played footy in the pindan and discovered so much more than he would have sitting in a classroom back in Victoria.
Best of all, Sue's husband – old truckie that he is – has fitted in perfectly. Between fixing washing machines and catching salmon with the locals, Barry drives the patient transport vehicle on its regular runs between Bidgy and Broome. Unfortunately, those trips are all too frequent due to the reality of Indigenous health and its patterns of chronic diabetes, kidney disease and heart problems.
At the end of the day, we stop out the back of Bidgy at Jabilu Beach, where the mangroves meet a broad stretch of pure, softly windswept sand. Sue talks about fate and her experiences here as a remote area nurse. Yet there is nothing 'remote' about Sue Stewart . . . she is totally connected. 'That sense of community here is really important,' she says. 'Everybody knows everyone else and we all look out for each other.'
Tony Wells, Rural Health Workforce Australia
Postscript: Rural Workforce Agencies have traditionally recruited and supported doctors in rural and remote communities. In 2012 they expanded those services to nursing and allied health. For those who are prepared to make the move, there are some tremendous career opportunities for health professionals throughout country Australia. Rural nursing, for example, can be a stepping stone to the highly skilled world of remote area nursing.
Sue Stewart underwent a sea change when she quit her nursing job in Victoria to work in the remote Aboriginal community of Bidyadanga, Western Australia.
# chapter four
OUT ON THE EDGE
When the going gets tough, nurses get going, often well beyond the call. Intrepid, resilient, inventive, resourceful and downright gutsy, nurses pull out all the stops to rescue people and save their lives.
## Nurse on Horseback
HIGH COUNTRY, VICTORIA
Alice Martin was born at Gisborne, New Zealand in 1891 when her parents, George Henry and Hannah Martin, were seconded to the Salvation Army. The family returned to Australia three months later, where Rev. Martin took up an appointment with the Methodist Church.
After leaving school, Alice undertook her training at Royal North Shore Hospital in Sydney, which qualified her for certified membership of the Australian Trained Nurses Association (NSW), of which she became a Life Member (Badge No. 4848) some years later.
As well as extensive experience in Sydney suburbs, including working in slum areas, she also spent time as a nurse and midwife in the Central Tablelands region of New South Wales.
She later replied to an advertisement for and was accepted as a Victorian bush nurse, in 1921. As a lone bush nurse, Alice had many extraordinary adventures and faced many challenges. While she occasionally got a lift with someone in a car as she travelled around her district, more often than not, she rode her horse.
The following text is in her own words . . .
One night, in 1922, I had been called to an urgent case in the valley. I felt very timid and wished that I had not to go. I had heard that the bush track down the side of the mountain was very steep and had slippery stones here and there and was dangerous even in the daytime. However, there was a patient in need so we hurried along following the guide to the patient.
After a couple of miles of riding, we came to the trail leading down into the valley. As my horse (a quarter draught) followed the other horse down the trail, he began to slip and slide then chomped his bit in a manner that told me he just didn't like it at all.
I breathed a prayer to God for help, and suddenly the horseman in front called to me over his shoulder. 'It's pretty bad going down here, but if you're nervy or your horse stumbles too much, just lean forward. I'll pull up my horse and lightly flick him with the spur. He will switch his tail and you can lean forward and catch hold of it. He won't mind a bit.' Surely an answer to a prayer.
I had the sense to take it as such and breathed, 'Thank you, Lord! Now please help me accomplish the impossible.' It was pitch dark, my horse was nervous, we could not go back, and I could not pull his head into the mountain as he might half-turn and then we would go over the deep drop backwards.
To lean forward and catch hold of the other horse's tail would be hard enough at any time, and it might annoy my horse. Just how could I do this and not fall off my horse into the depths below? As my horse stumbled, this and that rushed through my mind.
I held the reins tightly and slightly pulled on the left rein as I patted his neck and said, 'Good boy, good boy.' I slipped my left foot out of the stirrup and leant right forward, more and more along his neck and a little to the right, then I slipped my hand from his neck to his head, then with a 'Please, heavenly Father', I groped for the other horse's tail with my right hand.
The man in front had told his horse to stop and lightly touched his right side with the spur. At the critical moment, the horse flicked his tail and I caught hold of it, then without mishap regained my seat. My horse settled down, owing greatly no doubt to my own composure and so at last we reached the bottom of the trail safely. I have always felt glad that the leading horse's tail was so long. My horse didn't mind the other horse's tail brushing his face very much after all.
In the valley, the horses had to scramble over stones and wade through shallow water. This continued for a while then the man said: 'Do you see that light like a candle in the distance, straight ahead?' I said that I did. 'Well,' he said, 'that is where we are going.'
On arrival, I was able to save the life of a baby a couple of months old. The child would have died before he got as far as my place and the doctor lived 25 miles (40 kilometres) further at Warragal.
I returned home on my own next morning. The beauty of the valley was breathtaking. I felt like staying for a while and feasting my eyes on the beauty. What a different place it seemed to the one we had travelled the night before. No evil befell me; instead, I was surrounded by beauty. I felt I was ready for whatever awaited me at my cottage yonder.
Extracts adapted from Memoirs of a Victorian Bush Nurse in the 1920s by Alice Martin, registered nurse and midwife, transcribed by her daughter, Val Watson
## Riding the Seesaw
WESTERN AUSTRALIA
One day we were in one of the communities and we had a Canadian nurse working with us. We had to bring in a very tall man after an accident. We didn't have an ambulance, of course, just an old troopy. Anyway, we put the patient in the back. We couldn't fit him in so we left the door open with his feet hanging out the back.
He was very sick and we were concentrating on getting him back so we could stabilise him. Vikki was driving the troopy, I was perched up near his head because we had to maintain his airway, and the Canadian was down the back helping to keep the patient secure. We went round a corner and the Canadian just gently rolled out the door and onto the road. We stopped, he dusted himself off and climbed on board again and we got the patient back to the clinic. We got him stabilised and flew him out to Perth.
After he'd gone, we debriefed; talking about it amongst ourselves, we replayed the roll out the door several times. By then, we were all falling about with almost hysterical laughter. It was such a relief and it's part of the process of coping.
The patient died a few weeks later.
Sometimes it's like a seesaw.
Rhonda Smith and Vikki Robertson, registered nurses
## On the Edge
HIGH COUNTRY, VICTORIA
One of my bush-nursing centres was Dargo, Victoria, 85 miles (137 kilometres) from the nearest town and doctor. One day, I was taking a very ill patient to the doctor by car. There were many dangerous hair-pin bends on the road.
At one place for 4 miles (6.5 kilometres), the road was very dangerous, winding down steeply with many hair-pin bends. On one side there was a cliff face and on the right-hand side, a steep precipice. The road slanted slightly towards the cliff and along here there was a trickle of water. It was impossible for vehicles to pass.
On this 4-mile stretch, every driver wishing to go up or down had to telephone ahead to find out if the road would be clear. They would ring either from the house at the bottom to the house at the top, if going up, or vice versa if going down.
My driver had telephoned from the top house the day we were going down. When we were about halfway down, great was our dismay to glimpse, on one of the bends, a wagon with four horses coming up. The driver had failed to ring up. Neither of us could go backwards and we could not turn round; the road was too narrow and it was impossible.
My car driver applied the brakes. While the car slipped past the first two horses, the second three horses remained in front of the car. The engine stopped right under the horse on the left with its front legs lifted (one on each side), and its head came within a foot of the front glass. Its distended nostrils and frightened eyes seemed to come within a few inches of my face!
The car driver backed from under the horse, then we had to lay the patient in the trickle of water on the side of the road against the cliff face so he could not roll over the precipice (about a 200-feet [60-metre] drop). The driver of the wagon unhitched the four horses and I breathed a prayer as I led them past the car and as near to the cliff face as possible.
I spoke soothingly to them all the way. They were frightened but remained quiet while the two men took two wheels off the wagon and then miraculously managed to turn the wagon onto its side towards the cliff. The car driver then took his life in his hands as he performed another miracle, driving the car past it. I saw the car take the bend on three wheels. I saw the right-hand side back wheel, for a few seconds, actually out over the precipice. We reloaded the patient, helped the man put the wheels back on and continued on our way.
Extract adapted from Memoirs of a Victorian Bush Nurse in the 1920s by Alice Martin, registered nurse and midwife, transcribed by her daughter, Val Watson
## Bushfire
HIGH COUNTRY, VICTORIA
Bushfires are just awful at any time, anywhere, and it is advisable to keep as far as possible from their path, but it came about that one day my faithful horse and I just had to take the great risk of facing a bushfire. What a mighty monster it looked, as it rushed ahead, as if determined to burn up everything in its path.
I had to visit a farm to take the urgently needed medicine. The heat and smoke were with us as we left home. The further we travelled from home, the nearer we came to the bushfire. Then, as we actually turned onto the road leading to the patient's property and home, the heat was terrific and the roar was frightening.
The fire was on both sides of the road and as the wind veered, the flames in the high trees rushed towards the road and each other. Neither my faithful horse nor I liked it at all but we kept on and at last turned on to the clearing where the grass was free from the big trees, but the smoke and heat kept with us down the hill.
My horse, Teddy, would slip and slide and when we reached the bottom of the hill, we went through the creek then clambered up the steep bank and so to the house. I gave the medicine to the patient and said: 'I can't stay at all, dear. You'll find all the necessary directions in with the medicine. I hope rain will come very soon. Do stay inside with the children because there are plenty of flying, burning, bark twigs and leaves.'
We came down the hill again to the creek and felt the terrible heat. Teddy clambered safely up the steep bank and so on to the road, which had the roaring fire on both sides, very near the road. We actually had to go through the flames in places where the fires had crossed the road.
It was only a dirt road so Teddy's feet were safe but, of course, the road must have felt shocking. I had to lie on my horse's neck and even when I tried to encourage him, my throat felt burning hot. Naturally we were both frightened and knew there was terrible danger.
At last we turned on to our home stretch. We did not catch on fire and my horse did not fall or give in. I did not fall off his back or lose my nerve either. The heat was bad enough along the home stretch but there was a field of wheat now between the fire and us.
We thankfully arrived home. As I undid the gate Teddy whinnied quietly. I felt an answering sob in my throat. We were both sopping wet of course, owing to the intense heat, but so glad to be home again after our mighty adventure. And we were still the very best of friends; tried and true was my faithful Teddy.
Extracts adapted from Memoirs of a Victorian Bush Nurse in the 1920s by Alice Martin, registered nurse and midwife, transcribed by her daughter, Val Watson
## Outback Rescue
OODNADATTA, NORTHERN SOUTH AUSTRALIA
After my acceptance into service with the Australian Inland Mission, now called Frontier Services, I joined the enthusiastic team of caring people who strove to make a difference in the lives of folk living in remote Australia. After ten years in the public health sector I was up for a challenge and there was no better way than to roll up my sleeves and jump right in. Following my commitment ceremony in April 1976, I was on my way to Oodnadatta, an isolated town in northern South Australia, to take up a posting at the hospital. The rail link was the only means of transport for groceries and other heavier items that couldn't be transported on the small weekly mail plane.
Even after attending an orientation program in Adelaide before heading up north, the idea of running an outpost hospital without a doctor on site was a unique nursing experience and one that I found both terrifying and invigorating at the same time. Thanks to my predecessor, who guided my faltering footsteps during those first couple of months, I was able to overcome many of the hurdles of adjusting to life in an isolated town in the middle of nowhere.
Being in a small place, we relied on many people including the wonderful people in Adelaide and head office, who helped sort out problems when they arose. The townsfolk contributed in many ways to the running of our clinic by doing repairs to the car, building, radio and so forth, while we contributed to their health and wellbeing. The community services officer helped our indigenous community with financial assistance and employment opportunities, while the police kept order in the town. The storeowner supplied provisions and the postmistress kept us in touch with the outside world. The teachers and hostel workers cared for the children and liaised with us when concerned about their health. We all played our part in making this small town home.
There was no way that I could have envisaged the work involved when I took on the role as jack-of-all-trades within the hospital environs, for not only were we the administrators of the facility, but also the doctor, nurse, social worker, mothers and babies support person, dentist and local vet. This is not to mention conducting the Sunday school religious program for the kids and counselling folk in need.
As our medical support came from the Royal Flying Doctor Service based four hours' flying time away, we each depended on our partner to help institute first-line treatment when a seriously ill patient presented. Though we could contact the medical personnel at the RFDS base within ninety seconds, we often relied on a coordinated effort to stabilise the patient for transfer. We were on call twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, but still had plenty of time to join in the social activities and contribute to the town's running through the local government body.
When on duty, the sister conducted the radio sessions on the cumbersome double-sideband radio transceiver and made contact with the surrounding properties for any outstanding medicals before opening the airway for general chit-chat, which might include taking shopping orders for the store, or chasing up stock truck arrival and cattle train departure times. Coming from the city, I initially found working the radio network a little daunting, especially when the local vernacular hissed across the static-laden airways. I often felt inadequate when I had to ask for the message to be repeated. We were often the only link for the isolated homestead owners to avail themselves of medical advice and treatment without having to travel hundreds of miles, and this was one of our more important roles in servicing the remote outback.
With this in mind, I am reminded of a call I received on the early-morning session about a sick little boy on a property 100 kilometres away. Having previously managed his older sister's respiratory infection by radio medical calls and using the antibiotics from the property's Flying Doctor medical chest a few days earlier, I assumed the young boy's illness came from her, so recommended the same treatment.
When I tuned in on the radio a few hours later, Pat sounded quite anxious about her three-year-old son's breathing problem, which was getting worse as time passed. The thing that alarmed me more was that Joshua had asked his mum if he was going to die. I knew that he must be in real trouble to ask that question, so advised Pat to get hold of the Flying Doctor immediately. I listened to the medical call and offered to review Josh as I was closer and the doctor agreed that time was of the essence to treat this little kid. With my initial plan to meet the family halfway to give the toddler medication abandoned after hearing the news that Pat's husband had taken the last vehicle to muster cattle, I moved on to plan B of hightailing it out to the homestead.
While my colleague, Wendy, jogged around to the community nurse's place to rope her in to accompanying me on the trip, I filled the vehicle from our 44-gallon fuel drum using a hand-pump then packed the spare wheel, fuel jerry-can, medical chest and oxygen cylinder in the back ready for a quick departure. We took off while Wendy contacted the RFDS base to advise them of our ETA at the property, adding that I'd contact them as soon as I'd seen Joshua. This meant interrupting the School of the Air transmission to update the medico. Wendy took over the running of the hospital and monitored the radio in case Pat called again before we arrived.
Fearing the worst and without a portable radio in the station wagon to update us in transit, I put the pedal to the metal to get there as quickly as humanly possible. Being familiar with the lay of the land and its dirt, gibber stone-strewn road, we arrived at the homestead in just over an hour and pulled up in a cloud of dust. Pat had seen our red-rooster tail of dust a few kilometres out so was waiting for us on the open verandah and quickly ushered us inside to see her son. Little Joshua's laboured breathing could be heard from the hallway and I knew that things were serious even before I saw his heaving chest and blue lips. I quickly checked if he had an obstructed airway, then gave him a dose of broncho-dilating Ventolin and face mask oxygen before making contact with the Doc for advice and a management plan.
Having heard my clinical finding, the doctor thought that Josh probably had bronchiolitis, a condition that produced thick mucus that could obstruct a small child's airway. He recommended that we take him back to the hospital for treatment in a high-humidity oxygen tent. We departed with the whole family in tow and returned to town at a more sedate pace. As Wendy had been monitoring the medical call and knew we needed the mist tent, she'd assembled the equipment in readiness for our arrival.
Wendy and I took it in turns in working the night shift and, after three days of high humidity and antibiotics, little Josh's condition had improved enough to come out of the mist tent and sleep beside his mum. By day five Josh was on the mend and we discharged them home when Dad returned from mustering. Armed with instructions for first-line care if Josh became unwell again, his grateful mum gave us both a hug before heading home. We continued monitoring Joshua's condition for several more days on the radio network and he recovered fully.
Sue Nilon, retired registered nurse
## Beyond the Call
HALLS CREEK, KIMBERLEY REGION, WESTERN AUSTRALIA
In 1912, the Rev. John Flynn gained the approval of the Presbyterian Church to set up the Australian Inland Mission (AIM). John Flynn was appointed its superintendent, a position he retained until his death in 1951.
I grew up in a family of parents and grandparents who supported the Rev. John Flynn's endeavours to get a Flying Doctor Service started, along the lines suggested by my uncle, Lieutenant John Clifford Peel, whose letter to John Flynn, in 1917, convinced him that aeroplanes could be used to assist medical aid in outback Australia. That dream was later realised, in 1928, when the Aerial Medical Service performed its first mercy flight. Initially part of the AIM, it later became the Royal Flying Doctor Service (RFDS), an independent and world-renowned organisation.
The AIM Hospital at Halls Creek, in the Kimberley region of Western Australia, was established in 1918 in response to an event which became famous. A year earlier, James Darcy, a stockman at Ruby Plains Station, 75 kilometres south of Halls Creek, was mustering cattle when he fell from his horse and was seriously injured. When his friends found him they took him to Halls Creek (the journey took twelve hours) but there was neither a doctor nor a hospital in the town. The local postmaster, Mr Tuckett, realised Darcy needed immediate medical attention. Using only morse code, a surgeon in Perth, Dr Holland, diagnosed Darcy as having a ruptured bladder. He had to be operated on immediately. Messages flashed back and forth in morse code.
'You must operate.'
'But I have no instruments.'
'You have a penknife and razor.'
'What about drugs?'
'Use permanganate of potash.'
'But I can't do it.'
'You must.'
'I might kill the man.'
'If you don't hurry, the patient will die first.'
Tuckett strapped Darcy to the table and began operating according to instructions he received by telegraph. The operation took seven hours – with no anaesthetic. A day later complications set in. It became obvious that a doctor would have to come to Halls Creek. Dr Holland took a cattle boat from Perth to Derby and then travelled the last 555 kilometres by T-model Ford, horse and sulky and foot. He finally arrived in Halls Creek only to find that Darcy had died the day before, though not from his surgery.
The Rev. Dr John Flynn realised that Halls Creek was another remote place needing a hospital.
With nursing for the Australian Inland Mission (AIM) always in mind, I commenced my general nursing training at Geelong Hospital and completed midwifery training at the Queen Victoria Hospital in Melbourne in 1945. During that time I met my husband-to-be, who was an Air Force officer. I had already applied and been accepted for service with the AIM and was awaiting an opportunity to go to Halls Creek.
At this time AIM nurses were appointed for two years. We were expected to fulfil this term without holidays and had to be very fit! It was also desirable to be very good friends. During my training in Geelong, I met Marjorie McKean, who was also training with a view to working for the AIM. We were both members of the Presbyterian Church and followed the work of Flynn of the Inland very closely. In April 1946 Marjorie and I were appointed to Halls Creek.
After almost a fortnight of travelling by train and plane, we finally arrived at the Halls Creek aerodrome about 2.30 in the afternoon. We were met by the Secretary of the Roads Board, who was also Secretary of the Hospital – a Mr Arty O'Leary. Transport from the aerodrome to the town, a distance of 16 kilometres, was by the Roads Board's tip truck, driven by Arty who was very deaf and only had one eye. We sat in the front seat and the two retiring nurses sat in cane chairs on the back. The road was incredibly rough but the time went quickly as Arty questioned us on our ability to make bread, milk goats and pull teeth!
Our day commenced at 6.15 a.m. when we answered the roll call on our pedal radio to Wyndham, 400 kilometres away. The call sign of the base there was 8WY. This session was the only one where we could get clear reception, so if we needed advice from a doctor we had to use that session. To pedal the radio for transmission was like riding a bicycle uphill, so if we had a lengthy report to give, one of us would pedal while the other spoke.
At this time there was no actual Flying Doctor Service in the Kimberley region. A doctor from Broome or Derby called at Halls Creek every six to eight weeks. By road, Broome was the best part of 800 kilometres away, Derby a bit less. He came on the regular weekly flight of the MacRobertson-Miller Airline (MMA). The plane arrived at Halls Creek about 5 p.m., stayed overnight and left at 5 a.m. next day. We usually had a number of patients waiting to see the doctor and these had to be examined by the light of a hurricane lantern. If possible, we 'saved up' any dental extractions for the doctor, but when this was not possible we pulled the teeth ourselves.
If a doctor was unable to come to Halls Creek and a patient needed his attention, we took the patient to either Derby or Wyndham on the MMA plane. Once, however, Marjorie and I had to do an operation ourselves via radio instruction. It was an elderly man who had bladder trouble and just as Dr Holland told Mr Tuckett all those years before, our doctor in Wyndham said, 'Well you'll have to operate, sister, or he will die.'
And I thought to myself, Well, he still might die. But he said, 'Wheel his bed so that you can hear the radio and I will give you instructions.'
The two policemen came over to hold the patient down. The doctor gave us instructions and we made the incision, got the catheter into the bladder and, wonderful news, the water started flowing and there was great relief all round. We did feel very proud. It was quite a nerve-racking thing to do.
Usually though, we had time to get a patient to Wyndham or Derby, which meant that one nurse had to travel with the patient and would be away for a week, while the other kept things going at Halls Creek. In one extreme emergency we had to get an RAAF plane to come from Darwin.
The AIM office teams in the capital cities of Australia kept us supplied with books and magazines for anyone who needed reading matter. These were very popular, especially with the 'Old Timers' who lived on the outskirts of the town and came regularly to collect them and have a chat with us.
When we were not busy at the hospital, life was very relaxed in Old Halls Creek. We played tennis each afternoon and this was a great time for the townspeople and the staff who came in from the aerodrome. We enjoyed the beautiful sunrises and sunsets. I shall never forget some of the thunderstorms we experienced. It was wonderful to see Hospital Creek and Halls Creek running so high after being dry for months. After the water subsided we would go down the Hospital Creek with our Aboriginal help, Daisy, and look for gold specks. We were not very successful, but Daisy's sharp eye would always produce something worthwhile.
Each year at Christmas, before the wet season set in, we held a party for the children on outlying stations as well as those in town. Santa Claus would arrive, very hot in red suit, whiskers and all.
The annual race meeting was the main event of the year. This was held to raise funds for the AIM and Flying Doctor Service. For four days the town's activities centred around the racecourse, which was 16 kilometres from Old Halls Creek, near the site of the new town. It was hoped that we would not have any patients in the hospital at that time. However, at one time we did have an elderly man with a heart complaint and he insisted that we should all go. So a comfortable bed was made up on the back of the Roads Board's tip truck for him so we could take him with us and a great time was had by all.
We spent two and a half years in Halls Creek. In October 1948 Sister McKean and I left Halls Creek for home and soon after I was married.
I feel very privileged to have lived and worked for the AIM in Old Halls Creek.
Dulcie Andrew (nee Peel), retired registered nurse
## Emergency Call
KALTUKATJARA, (DOCKER RIVER), NORTHERN TERRITORY
It was 4.30 p.m. on Friday afternoon and we were thinking of going home when the call came. Relayed via several people, none of whom spoke English as their first language, it seemed that there had been an accident on the dirt road, about 150 kilometres away.
We were two remote area nurses (RAN) based in the community providing all the general day-to-day health care for a remote Aboriginal population of approximately 300 people. The nearest medical help and hospital was an eight-hour drive away, mostly on dirt roads. A possible accident with no other details meant we had to leave the community to investigate.
An RAN has to think of much more than the immediate emergency response. The ambulance was a 4WD Toyota troop carrier, fitted out with one stretcher and two small oxygen bottles. There are no other emergency services or retrieval support services in the area and the ambulance usually doubled as a passenger vehicle. If the accident was 150 kilometres away, then it had already happened more than an hour before we received the news. The dirt roads and sand hills meant time-wise it would take at least two hours to get to the possible site. All the emergency equipment for responding to off-site situations was kept stored in their packs in the cupboards and needed to be loaded into the ambulance. Loading them in the ambulance reduced available seating from six to four, with one patient lying down.
We did not know how many patients were on site or how critically injured they were. A plan had to be made to deal with the broken-down vehicles that may have been obstructing the road.
I loaded the ambulance, collected food and water to sustain us through what was going to be at least another four hours added onto our just-completed eight-hour day, and advised the Royal Flying Doctor Service (RFDS) of the situation. The closest police were three hours' drive west, while the potential accident was two hours' drive east; it would take police five hours to get to the site, if they were available to come and not tied up with other duties. Wendy went off to locate a community member with a utility who was happy to travel with the ambulance – the utility could carry things required from the crash site, which wouldn't fit in the ambulance.
At 5 p.m. we drove out of the community, heading east. There was no mobile phone coverage and the satellite phone reception was patchy to say the least. We drove on as the sun began to sink, to find our patients just on dusk (about 7 p.m.) scattered over the road. A group of tourists were travelling around Australia on motorbikes and had come to grief on the sand hills of the road. Three were intact, another had injured his ankle and one was lying on the road, conscious, with breathing difficulties. We swung into action most efficiently, uncovering his chest for an assessment, doing observations, commencing intravenous fluids, giving intravenous morphine for pain relief, and tucking him up in thermal blankets to preserve body warmth. The sun had set and it was becoming colder and colder, especially on the sand. We had him all nicely stable and looked around for help to put him on the stretcher and take him to the clinic.
To our horror we suddenly heard and saw all his friends on their motorbikes and our assistant in his ute driving east, leaving us alone on the road with the patient. Did they think we were okay and they could leave? Regardless, we needed their help, so Wendy set off in hot pursuit in the ambulance, while I stood on the dirt road, holding a drip in the air and reassuring the patient that everything would be okay. The abandoned stretcher stood forlornly by, awaiting its load.
Thirty minutes later the ambulance returned with the ute. In his innocence, the assistant had gone to show the tourists a good camping spot for the night; it was too dark and dangerous to travel any more on the road. They intended to return to the bitumen the next day and continue their journey across Australia by another route. We loaded our patient on the stretcher and returned to the clinic for him to be evacuated by RFDS. He turned out to have a pneumothorax and after a short stay in hospital went back to his own home town. His motorbike came back to the community with us in the back of the ute and travelled home on the store truck a month or so later. We got to bed at about 1 a.m. that morning, hoping that nothing else would happen to call us out.
Lyn Byers, midwife, remote area nurse practitioner and Wendy McNicol, remote area nurse
## Christmas Sister
DOOMADGEE, NORTH-WEST QUEENSLAND
'Angry and, at times, intoxicated men can come with weapons seeking their women.' My induction had commenced. 'Lock the doors and drop the front security roller door, if you have time. Then, if you can, exit out the side door; not the back door as others may be waiting. Escape with as many persons as possible to the doctor's residence for safety.'
The voice continued, 'And if a person comes waving a gun, duck down behind the counter and make your escape as best you can.'
'What if I get shot?' I asked, on this my first shift at Doomadgee Hospital.
Point blank, I was told, 'Well, you were just meant to die here!'
'Doom City' was the translation I was given for the Aboriginal word 'Doomadgee'. It was a dry community where some people drank intensely on the other side of the river, then staggered into town bringing violence and aggression with them.
I was told by some, 'If you can nurse here, survive here, then you can nurse anywhere in Australia.' Many persons offered a contract flew in, walked down the steps, looked around and went back on the plane they arrived in.
To me, over time, Doomadgee became the people themselves and a symbol of survival and community against all odds and harsh realities.
At the time I was around, there had been many changes of policies and programs with funding brought in by various 'good' persons. However, just as everything started moving in a certain direction, change was required and it became a case of 'having the rug pulled out from under the feet'. To obtain monies to assist the community, the hope of the community rang through the words, 'We just have to learn to dance on the shifting carpets.'
With the summer rains, the community was isolated, unable to be accessed by road and on many occasions unable to be accessed via air either. I arrived on a small plane for my first Christmas of many to come. Food and even basic medical supplies were very limited for all. There was never any safe drinking water. The children suffered from Third World treatable medical conditions and I soon came to see the differences between town and remote. Senior and discount cards meant nothing here; items seen as rights in the city are unthinkable there.
Assuming they were available, basic treatments and tests performed in the city, without question, had to be justified even for children. Once justified, blood tests which could be stored were collected, spun and sent back with the plane approximately three times a week. Due to the expenses of getting even food in, medical resources were limited and nursing required ingenuity for there were no dressing packs, no ECG machine for heart tracings or ISTAT machines. However, there was a pharmacy and an X-ray machine. I soon learnt as a remote nurse using primary health care guidelines that you had to diagnose, prescribe and dispense plus perform X-rays with limited on-site training. The Royal Flying Doctor Service was a blessing beyond words and the difference between life, death and hope.
Out there, one had very limited choice in food and it was a blessing to have something to eat. A can of spaghetti in the city costing $1 compared to a minimum of $3 at the one store in town and generally there was no fresh food. That first Christmas it was so bleak with limited basic supplies and concern was high for the children, who were showing signs of increasing malnutrition. The elder women worked together to salvage whatever food was available. The children lined up outside on the verandah as the women of the community used the church hall to cook food and serve it to the children. The many hungry adults of the community stood back, going hungry, putting the feeding of the children first. I saw the disease and starvation of Third World countries present here in Australia. My heart broke and my eyes opened.
Except in emergencies when all hands were on deck, we were working minimum twelve-hour shifts with two nurses back to back with two other nurses. We would only call the one available doctor in extremes of life and death.
During another Christmas and New Year period, the town was restless. The hospital wards were full, with weather conditions not allowing the RFDS to land for days.
'Sister, sister. There's a man with a large knife sitting out in the waiting room.'
In the emergency room, when the man with the knife arrived, we were already monitoring the breathing of a male person with a 5-centimetre fish hook embedded in his mouth/throat region, an unconscious woman who overdosed and a male with a neck sliced by a machete that had nicked the carotid artery. Untreated, pulsating blood usually meaning death in a few minutes.
The community had already suffered recent deaths. The crying and gut-wrenching sounds made when a member of community died resonates with me still. We nurses and the doctor were for fighting for the lives of those in the emergency room while monitoring the others. There was no way anyone could move to safety if it was required.
After notifying the police, who were restricted in their ability to respond at that time, I had no choice but to go to the male with the large knife, approaching carefully as he was in distress and could turn it against himself or others at any time.
Fortunately, miracles happen. After several hours had passed, the man handed over the large knife after performing some cuts to his chest and in the nick of time, the RFDS was able to land, retrieving the man with the slash to his neck, the conscious woman recovering from an overdose and the man with the hook in his mouth.
We had been desperately waiting for more staff to arrive, but unfortunately the staff who came to give us some relief returned on the plane they arrived in.
While waiting for still more staff, I was woken from a couple of hours' sleep, called in to assist with a young man wanting to hang himself. There was no other person available and I was studying social work at university. I spent time with this young person and about twelve hours later, he went home speaking about being a role model for other youth in the community.
I became known as 'Christmas Sister', the sister who would, in my uni break, go to Doomadgee to work over the Christmas/New Year period releasing the long-serving nurses for a holiday.
I learnt a new mindset and in the beauty of isolation, learnt to leave behind what I call my 'white mind'. In one Christmas period, Aunty April took me on a walking journey to show me some bush medicines. Aunty April, a respected Aborigine, had a knowing and knew when my time was finally up. That time, Aunty April came to the plane when I was leaving and brought a white handkerchief.
All I saw as the plane took off, and in the air, was Aunty April waving the white handkerchief and eventually, just the white handkerchief; it was my last Doomadgee Christmas.
Kari Richter, registered nurse
## Pushed to the Limit
KIMBERLEY REGION, WESTERN AUSTRALIA
Community nursing can be pretty demanding with its 24/7 on-call system for three months at a time, but it can also be very rewarding, where one can forge relationships with the locals on a level that would have no relevance in the world outside. Sharing in the evacuation of an area (due to heavy rains, rising river levels and a proposed 'king tide') by helicopter was indeed an experience that brought out the best and the worst in people.
The helicopters were provided by a nearby off-shore drilling rig and the protocol was to be pregnant women, small children and the elderly first. It was amazing the number of 'older' people who were suddenly quite infirm and the number of women who were suddenly pregnant and who were not willing to risk having their baby on the community, to allow them to have an earlier flight out. Under normal circumstances trying to get heavily pregnant women to go to the nearest big town for 'sit down' and birthing was a constant struggle. Fortunately no-one came to any harm and within days everyone was back (same helicopters) and life returned to normal, apart from a lack of running tap water due to the pump being submerged in the rising waters.
While the pump was being removed and moved to higher ground to prevent a similar situation in the future, bottles of drinking water were flown in for everyday use and 44 gallon drums installed at houses (and the clinic) for washing and toilet-flushing purposes. The 44 gallon drums were filled by a road works water truck at regular intervals and no-one took any harm from the inconvenience.
Being without contact with the outside world was not an uncommon occurrence when the phones were out due to storms or some other interference with the cables. To be on a very isolated community where, during the wet season, the airstrip was out for anything up to three weeks at a time meant using all of one's ingenuity to manage the clinic supplies and to prepare meals at home that were appealing.
Some communities had airstrips that could be used at night for medical emergencies, but flares had to be lit along the boundaries and someone had to drive a vehicle up and down the strip to remove the kangaroos and donkeys so that the plane could land safely. Unless daylight came before it was time to evacuate the patient, the same procedure would have to be repeated for take-off and then the flares brought back in to be safely stored until next time.
On one community I had a middle-of-the-night emergency and with the promise of a plane within the hour, the flares were set up, animals scared off and the patient stabilised for retrieval. Although the patient had suffered a knife injury to his leg that was not life threatening, the knife, which I was not about to try and remove, was still in situ. He was also in a heavy alcohol-induced sleep that lasted until nearly lunchtime, when he eventually surfaced only to be informed that he was still on the community as there had been three attempts at getting a plane in to take him out but, for a variety of legitimate reasons, none had made it.
After two more abortive attempts and with nightfall approaching again, one was finally scheduled to arrive so the setting up of the runway had to proceed all over again. By this time, it was hard to find someone sober enough to help out as some members of the community had been drinking steadily all day. Once the patient was awake and I had adequately shielded the imbedded knife from their curious eyes, he had a steady stream of visitors through and everyone could see he was taking no harm but they still worked themselves into a fury over the repeated delays. By the time the plane arrived the community was near riot point.
To get the patient from the clinic to the plane meant a ride in the back of an open-tray top, and I became aware of the sullen and dangerous atmosphere among some of the local community members who stood along the road as we drove back out to the airfield. We were followed to the airstrip by the community members and, led by a couple of very drunk and abusive people (male and female), a large group stormed the area around the plane where we were attempting to load the patient aboard. The patient's entreaties that he was okay fell on deaf ears and the racist remarks being hurled at us from two people in particular were so out of context with the whole situation that if it hadn't been so serious it would have been funny.
It was not until the pilot refused to continue with the evacuation until the immediate area was clear of all people not authorised to be there that they moved back behind a perimeter fence and allowed the evacuation to take place. By this time, it was fully dark and as the plane taxied to take off, the non-Indigenous community members who had provided the vehicle used to transport the client wanted to leave the area before the situation got completely out of control. However, it was policy that I remain at the strip until the plane was in the air and out of sight, so they drove away and left my husband and I standing beside the clinic vehicle that had accompanied us out there.
I was unnerved by all of this but not really frightened and it was a huge relief when the chairperson's wife left the still-muttering crowd and came stood by me and said, 'Molly, it was not meant to be like this,' and we stood holding hands until the plane was airborne and out of sight. She remained with us until we were safely in our house and left us with the promise that there would be no more disturbances that night.
I had, of course, been in touch with my team leader throughout the day and when I reported this last episode it was decided to pull us off the community at first light. Although I readily agreed, a few hours' sleep (with no callouts) allowed me the space to see that 'running' from such a situation was not the answer to the problem, so, along with the chairperson and his wife, a small group of senior community elders was called and the situation discussed. As there really were only two perpetrators who led the disturbance, I was satisfied that they had been suitably dealt with by their own council members. However, a remark made later in the day to the effect that, had the patient died it would have been Dick and I on the stretchers being taken out, made me realise that 'payback' appeared to be alive and well on this community.
Molly Cobden, registered nurse (remote)
## A Tragic Weekend
NORTH-WEST NEW SOUTH WALES
We had been looking forward to the race meeting for months. Pretty dresses and champagne had been sourced weeks before, just for this weekend. This particular race meeting is an annual event in outback NSW where a sleepy little town comes to life, where the population explodes from twenty to 5000. It was only a couple of hundred kilometres away; not so far in the outback.
Very early that Saturday morning, the phone rang.
'We need you at the hospital urgently.' From her voice, I knew something really bad had happened. 'There's been a house fire; two kids are dead.'
I was working in a remote hospital two hours' drive from Broken Hill. When there is an emergency in these small communities, all hands are on deck: to nurse, to make tea, to get notes together, to support your colleagues or do whatever needs to be done. It's not about who's on call; it's about patient care and helping your mates.
In any community the death of a child is devastating. For a nurse in a small remote community where you know the children and their families, it is horrific. I arrived at the hospital to find crowds of people inside and outside the hospital in utter grief and shock.
The grandmother of the children worked at the hospital with us and was much respected and loved. The role of the nurse in this situation is to just be with your grieving community. We are not taking blood pressures or handing out tablets. We hug those that need a hug, make cups of tea, let people cry, talk; just be with them.
When the family, friends and police had gone, we went over to the nurses' home to debrief and grieve together. The camaraderie of colleagues together in grief and shock was most comforting.
While we were still reeling from the death of these children, three nursing colleagues and I all agreed that an outback race meeting and a trip out of town might be good therapy. We headed out late in the morning.
The two-hour drive was an opportunity for the four of us to debrief and cry some more. Playing music in the car also helped. The closer we were to our destination, the more excited we became; it was going to be a good day.
Ten kilometres from the races we came around a bend to see a car on its side, on the side of the dirt road. People were standing around a man lying on the ground, perilously close to the upturned and unstable car. As we pulled up, I recognised one of those standing there; I will call her Sandy. I knew that Sandy had recently become engaged so it wasn't rocket science to conclude that the injured man was in fact her fiancé, whom I will call Aaron.
We jumped out of the car and ran over; Sandy recognised me immediately and told the bystanders to let me help. Before us was a critically ill patient and the nearest hospital was a significant distance away on an appalling road.
In the first aid algorithm, D comes first, D for Danger. The car was on its side and potentially going to land back on the injured patient and on those near him.
The men rolled the car away from Aaron, making it safe to treat him. His injuries were extensive and life-threatening. His airway was severely compromised. Race day was and is the only day of the year that there was an ambulance in this little town, so someone was tasked to go and get help. We had no medical equipment with us.
We had to do something about Aaron's airway immediately. We needed oxygen, suction, IV fluids, and a Guedel airway as a minimum; if we were in any emergency department of any major hospital he would have been intubated, had chest drains inserted and had lifesaving intravenous fluids running. As it was, we didn't have any of those things. We did not have time to wait for the ambulance to come and I wasn't going to sit down and wait, do nothing; things were pretty bad and getting worse.
I had a light-bulb moment. Connected to the windscreen wipers of cars are two small hoses which provide water from a water reservoir under the bonnet to the top of the bonnet. These provide water with which the windscreen is cleaned. While the hoses are not sterile, they are clean. They do not have any residual corrosive or dangerous chemicals like petrol in them; they have only had water in them. So we cut the hoses and used them as an airway. While it did not help Aaron's other injuries, at least he could breathe.
The ambulance arrived and the paramedic gave Aaron IV fluids and oxygen and inserted an airway. A helicopter was said to be in the area and an urgent request was sent out for it. Then we sent a message to the nearest hospital notifying them of Aaron's pending arrival.
Sandy was uninjured and had not left Aaron's side. While we knew it was a horrific thing for her to watch, there was nowhere we could take her to shield her from this terrible situation. We were on the side of an isolated road with no form of protective structure nearby, not even a tree.
And then Aaron's heart stopped: cardiac arrest. It was awful to be doing CPR (cardio-pulmonary resuscitation) while this young woman, so much in love with her man, pleaded with him to keep fighting to hang on, to stay with her. Finally we got a pulse; the paramedic continued providing ventilation to this very sick man. The helicopter arrived and Aaron was flown out.
As the whirl of the helicopter faded away, we were numb. We had left home gutted by the death of two young children and had then come upon this. We stood almost whispering amongst ourselves, not sure what to do, where to go. Someone said, 'Let's go to the racetrack.' We had lots of our friends there and we needed to be somewhere, doing something.
As we arrived, we could see the police talking to Sandy's parents and we knew that Aaron hadn't made it. We four nurses, who had seen too much for one day, broke down and wept. From out of the crowds around us, some women emerged, whisked us into a private area and allowed us to cry. They hugged us, they comforted us, and they let us grieve. Women in the bush look out for each other. Words could not comfort us in that moment of exhaustion, but the strength and compassion of those women did.
It has been many years since this horrendous weekend. I will always have a great sadness that we lost three good people. However, I will always remember the camaraderie of the nurses on that day, and the compassion of those women who did not shy from others' suffering. They reached out to four distressed women they barely knew, giving us solace and friendship in our time of need. Amidst the tragedy of the weekend, my faith in the human race was strengthened.
Monica Mary Brown, registered nurse
## Rollover
BEDOURIE, FAR SOUTH-WEST QUEENSLAND
Several years ago, I was working for Frontier Services at the clinic in Bedourie. Late one Sunday afternoon I got a call from Cluny Station to say they'd had a call on the radio, from a truckie, reporting a bad accident about 80 kilometres east of Bedourie on the Diamantina Developmental Road. The accident site was about 750 kilometres from Charleville and 600 kilometres from Mount Isa so, initially at least, I knew we were on our own. I tried to find the policeman but he was busy elsewhere; consequently, it was the local council mechanic who volunteered to come with me to drive the ambulance and to assist. Having advised the RFDS that I was going out to an unknown scenario, we finally got hold of the policeman to let him know and we headed off.
Calling in at Cluny homestead on the way past, we found they knew little more than the basics first called in. When we got to the accident, we found the truckie waiting, assuring the injured that help was on its way. It was a really nasty single-car rollover involving four young people from one of the stations. One of them had been thrown out so we did a bit of running around the paddock and up the road getting everyone sorted, trying to work out what had happened and, therefore, what their less obvious head, spinal and internal injuries might be. I did consider reverse triage to begin with, sending the case most likely to survive back first, but they were all so badly injured, I decided we needed to get them all back as soon as possible. The young driver had major head injuries and she had developed what's called raccoon eyes and other Battle's signs. They're an indication of brain trauma and I've never seen them develop so quickly.
This was in the days before satellite phones so I had no contact with a doctor or anyone else for that matter. The troopy-cum-ambulance was only equipped for one person so we had limited resources available to manage so many people. We didn't have enough cervical collars; we just managed the best way we could.
In the end, having patched everyone up as well as possible, I commandeered the truckie's semitrailer to help transport the four of them, loading two of the head injuries into his sleeping cab. We loaded one into the back of a ute that had come with us from Cluny and the worst case, a young man with leg deformities and a very boggy pelvis, into the ambulance. He was conscious but I just knew he wasn't well.
I travelled with him and we kept in touch with each other via radio. On the way back, my patient was distressed and uncomfortable and in the confined space of the back of the troopy, he managed to tangle up the IV line so that no fluids were going through. We had to stop, unload the stretcher, sort the IV out and get him stabilised again before proceeding steadily westwards.
Once we got into radio range of Cluny, I was able to get them to call ahead and advise the RFDS that we'd need every-thing they could send, on the ground, asap. I also got a message to Joyce, the Aboriginal health worker in Bedourie, to get the clinic opened up and ready. Remembering she didn't have keys, when we arrived back at midnight, I was surprised to find the clinic wide open, all the lights on and everything set up. She'd found the bloke who built the clinic and he'd dismantled half the double front door.
It was all hands on deck. Most of the (very small) town appeared to have turned up offering to help and, as I directed them, they helped get all the injured safely into the clinic and as comfortable as possible. Because we didn't have enough beds or trolleys, a couple of them were on mattresses and pillows on the floor. Everyone just did a great job. Joyce took BPs and obs, someone else gently cut off clothes, and every time I looked, the policeman seemed to emptying the rubbish bins . . .
The first RFDS plane arrived from Mount Isa at about 2 a.m. Even the pilot asked how in the hell had we managed to get them all back to Bedourie. A second plane from Charleville arrived shortly after and the doctors decided who was going where. Once the planes were loaded and safely away, we did a basic clean-up and a bit of a debrief then went home and tried to get some sleep.
The community rallied around and supported us by staying away next morning until we got everything in the clinic properly tidied up and ready for the day. I talked to Joyce and the mechanic and the policeman and over the next few days things slowly started to get back to normal. Officially, I never heard anything of the outcomes for the four young victims, but people heard things around the district and let me know that they all survived, although with significant and life-changing injuries.
With time to think about it, I couldn't work out how the young man with the pelvis ended up where he was or how one of the girls managed to crawl into a gap under the upside-down car. And for the life of me, I still don't know how we managed to get them loaded up into the sleeper cab right up in the back of the cabin of the truck. I just know we did exactly what we had to do, with the resources we had, to save their lives.
Over the following days, there were repercussions because I had called Joyce in to help. Her employer in Queensland Health said it wasn't her role, but she did nothing she couldn't do or that I didn't direct her to do. A lot of people just don't understand that when you live and work in a remote area, you make the best possible use of the resources you have.
As a consequence of this experience, I realised that a disaster is not necessarily a cyclone or a bushfire; for a small remote town, a car accident like this is a catastrophic event. I've since got very involved in disaster management so the lessons learnt have been invaluable. In Frontier Services, we have developed strategies for managing multiple injuries should they occur. All of our clinics are better resourced and much better prepared.
Anna Burley, registered nurse
## Christmas Every Day
CHRISTMAS ISLAND, TERRITORY OF AUSTRALIA, INDIAN OCEAN
It's mid-December and a tropical low is developing offshore causing high winds and seas. The supply ship has left again after another unsuccessful attempt to offload essential supplies on Christmas Island. Plumes of sea spray shoot up into the air as waves hit the jetty and surrounding cliff face, and roads are covered in wind-blown debris. As I drive down the cutting, curtains of rain sweep across the point and the sun sends splinters of light onto Flying Fish Cove.
Weather dominates conversation here on this tiny speck in the Indian Ocean as it dictates much of the activity and movement on and off the island. Christmas Island is one of Australia's most remote territories and is situated 2600 kilometres north-west of Perth and 350 kilometres south of Jakarta. The island is a volcanic plug that soars thousands of metres out of the sea bed and is home to a permanent population of around 1500 people. Three-quarters are of Malay, Chinese, Indian or Eurasian descent, with Chinese dialects and Malay the primary languages spoken. The rich cultural heritage is due to a long history of Chinese and Malaysian migration to service the phosphate mining industry over the last one hundred years.
Over the last three years the island's population has swelled due to the influx of asylum seekers and the fly-in-fly-out population employed at the detention centre and the associated service industries. This, along with a rapidly ageing permanent population with a high burden of chronic disease, has provided unique challenges to an isolated health service providing care to a widely disparate group of people. The island had two health services: the Indian Ocean Territories Health Service (IOTHS), which has an eight-bed inpatient facility, and a private health contractor providing initial health induction and ongoing primary health care to asylum seekers in detention.
For the next couple of days, the jetty is closed as 2-metre swells roll in, gouging out the beach and tossing huge logs like twigs. The wind has changed pitch overnight and has gone from a low groan to a keening roar. Next morning there is a low sea mist and driving rain and amongst the howling wind people can be heard yelling, calling; the words can't be discerned but the meaning is clear.
Locals have arrived and are standing along the rocky cliff as a refugee boat has lost power, is pounded by churning surf and is edging dangerously towards the cliff face. People are desperately trying to help by throwing life jackets to the stricken vessel and trying to make human chains, but 3-metre swells and razor-sharp rocks make it almost impossible to do anything until the navy arrives.
A man in the water is trying to keep his head above water but is tiring. He takes a few desperate paddles, goes under and comes up. 'Swiiiiiim!' yell the navy guys. He goes under again and as he comes up is plucked from the churning water. In driving rain, emergency tents are set up at Ethel Beach to receive survivors. Everything and everyone is permeated by the smell of diesel. After initial triage they are transferred to the hospital to be fully assessed. All through the day they come. Some are admitted; some require transfer to the mainland with the RFDS. An emergency morgue is set up.
A man weeps, another woman is inconsolable at the news that her daughter is missing and many are dazed, unable to fathom what has happened. Each survivor has a story. Some have lost their whole family; nobody is unaffected. The media circus starts with phone calls from as far away as Sweden and Iran. A journalist tries to enter the hospital to take pictures of survivors and is intercepted by staff.
As the evening rolls on the RFDS leaves with patients, staff clean and restock, looking for a reason to stay close to others, and then it is time to go. Outside the whole world is exhausted. It is still, no wind, no rain nothing stirs. It seems that all that can be wrenched and laid waste has been.
It's early April and the smell of diesel, faces of the living and the dead, and high winds and seas leave many with a sense of unease. The island's children are still waiting for their Christmas presents to arrive on the supply ship and diesel is running low. Red crabs are crawling up the screen door and out my window I can watch Christmas Island boobies doing aerial dances as they swoop and dive on the updrafts.
It's nearly two years on and a blood red-orange sun sets behind a bank of storm clouds on the Cocos Keeling Islands. Eight asylum-seeker boats are moored in a row in the lagoon. The doldrums have arrived and with it another cyclone season.
Christine Foletti, registered nurse
## Highway Patrol
SANDFIRE, NORTH-WEST HIGHWAY, WESTERN AUSTRALIA
The scene was one of utter carnage. With crumpled bodies lying over the road and verge, the smashed-up hull of a ute gently smoking in a culvert and pools of blood seeping into the red dust, Mick Lanagan went, without hesitation, straight to work.
He raced from casualty to casualty, assessing injuries and working out whose lives he could save and who was just too far gone. The ute had been crowded with people, both front and back, and, driven by an unlicensed minor, had careened off the road and rolled, flinging passengers in every direction. Many were either unconscious or writhing in agony. Even as he was calling on the satellite phone for backup, Mick knew, 270 kilometres south of Broome on Western Australia's Great Northern Highway, it could be a hell of a long time before any other help arrived. Calmly and efficiently, he administered emergency first aid to those he knew stood a chance, tried to stop their bleeding, bandaged their injuries, placed them on their sides and soothed the panicky.
'You have to be a little bit hard sometimes to do triage,' he says. 'But you've got to concentrate on where you can make a difference.' In this case, the volunteer medical worker knew his work could prove critical.
By the time Mick took a breath to look up, five ambulances had arrived at the scene. A Royal Flying Doctor Service (RFDS) plane had landed on a local airstrip, since it was too windy to attempt to put down on the road, and was ready to airlift patients to Perth.
By then, Mick had been working for a couple of hours in the blistering sun in 47-degree Celsius heat. 'I'd started to feel ill myself, but I hadn't been able to stop,' says Mick, who is diabetic and has chronic back problems. 'But with others on the scene, I slumped down in the shade and a young paramedic came over and said I looked like I should eat something. He gave me a couple of biscuits, which got my blood-sugar level back up again, so I could carry on. I suppose I'd forgotten to look after myself, but I was all right.'
Thanks largely to Mick, who is a resident at the Sandfire Roadhouse halfway between Broome and Port Hedland, just one of the thirteen people in the horror smash was pronounced dead at the scene, and only two died later in hospital. 'You have to be ready for anything when you live in a place like this,' Mick says, sagely. 'The Australian outback can be a tough place, but you have to be prepared for it.'
Mick loves the wide-open spaces of the vast, flat ochre-dust plains that stretch from Sandfire as far as the eye can see, and is eager to help others appreciate its wild beauty. 'I had one young couple call in once who said there was nothing here,' he grins. 'But I told them this is a place you have to look more carefully for the beauty to reveal itself. In one square yard on the ground you can see maybe ten different sorts of little native wildflowers. Then there are so many birds and so much wildlife – although unfortunately a lot of it without legs – it's just incredible. 'And out here, at night, it's so silent you can actually hear the stars . . . I can't imagine a better life.'
Along with the beauty, however, comes a fair amount of savagery. The two-lane highway that runs past Sandfire is so dead straight that countless drivers fall asleep at the wheel. That's not to mention the 51-degree Celsius temperatures and the deadly bushfires and fierce cyclones that strike without warning at any time, day or night. People living on stations inland, towards the coast 20 kilometres away, and just about anywhere along the 600-square-kilometre stretch of lonely outback that Mick looks after, all turn to him for help when sickness strikes, accidents happen or someone gets bitten by a snake. He drove 1900 kilometres on a shift once. But as a volunteer for forty-five years with the RFDS and St John Ambulance, Mick always has a safe pair of hands, whatever happens.
'He's unbelievably helpful and his skills are highly regarded,' says Lyle Gilbert, the St John Ambulance station manager at Port Hedland. 'Without him we would certainly have seen a lot worse outcomes, with people having to go a long, long way for help. He started with a genuine concern to help others and he now provides the best care possible for people. He's real salt of the earth, his heart is definitely in the right place and he's a great part of the team.'
By now, Mick's learnt to cope with every kind of emergency, and he says some of his strength comes from being of good, hardy Irish stock. His mum Eileen O'Connor arrived in Australia from Cork as a nine year old with her family and later went to work as a cook and companion on an outback sheep station at Turee Creek, between Paraburdoo and Newman in the Pilbara. There, she met and married George Lanagan, a NSW-born head stockman, and the pair went on to manage a number of remote stations.
George drove cattle four times down the Canning Stock Route and, on his last trip in 1940, thirty-year-old Eileen came along too and, carrying only five possessions – a diary, a pencil, a camera, a gun and a jar of face cream – made history as the only white woman ever to traverse the route with a full mob of cattle. Today, her beautiful black-and-white photos are stored for posterity by the J S Battye Library of West Australian History, an arm of the State Library of Western Australia.
Mick was born in Geraldton in 1946 and was a chip off George's block. By the age of four, with his dad managing Carnegie Station some 500 kilometres east of Wiluna, Mick was riding horses like he'd been born on one, and mustering 500 sheep on his own. Working side by side with his dad, he soon became an expert at running stations, often taking time out going contracting: building fences, installing tanks and putting in windmills.
He fell in love with the RFDS when a stockman was injured and their plane appeared, like an angel, to help.
He tried living in Perth, when his sister Mary fell ill and needed support and help with her kids. But it wasn't for him. 'I hated waking up in the morning, knowing I was in a city,' he says. 'People in the city don't seem to have any manners; they push past you, they're rushing and they're always walking around with their heads down. In the bush, you don't have those kind of routines. You work with the seasons, you fix things when they go wrong, and you're master of your own destiny.'
The only times he returned to the city after that were when he had to be fixed up after station accidents or when, in later years, a battery of tests revealed he had cancer in his spine. Then, after six months in hospital, he discharged himself. 'The place was doing my head in so I decided I'd go back to the outback for some peace and quiet and see how I went there. And I managed to cure myself, with the power of positive thinking. Being out there always helps.'
That kind of mental resilience when the chips are down never fails to impress those who know him best. 'He just willed himself better through sheer determination,' says Meredith Earnshaw, the medical chest officer for the RFDS's Western Operations. 'He makes the best of absolutely everything. He's an old-style bushie, incredibly self-reliant and strong-minded.'
Unable to go back to riding horses, Mick went to join an old mate, Ken Norton, the owner of the roadhouse at Sandfire, who asked him to look after the engines, pumps and lighting plants on the site.
Nestled between the last two monster sand dunes of the Great Sandy Desert, the Sandfire Roadhouse doesn't look too impressive. In 2007, a blaze from an electrical fault roared through the roadhouse, gutting the building and causing $1.5 million worth of damage, and many of the trees that provided shelter to the site were flattened by the ferocious Cyclone Laurence that hit the west coast in December 2009. Everything is now gradually being rebuilt.
Now sixty-three, Mick has become tireless in his devotion to the RFDS and St John Ambulance, and is happy to be the man everyone turns to for help in that part of the world. 'I just love people and it's fun helping,' Mick says. 'Over that 600-kilometre gap between Broome and Port Hedland, they rely on me and my ambulance. It's just a way of life. There's always something that goes wrong in a remote place like this and there's never time to get bored.'
Sue Williams, author and journalist (Mick's story first appeared in Sue's book, Outback Spirit, in 2010. This edited extract appeared in RM Williams OUTBACK magazine in 2011 and appears here courtesy of both Sue and OUTBACK.)
Postscript: Mick was recently forced to retire from driving the ambulance as he is no longer able to manage the stretcher on his own. However, when called, he still goes out in his own vehicle to assist at accidents on the Great Northern Highway. He will triage and treat just as he's always done and provide basic comfort and company to those who wait the long wait for an ambulance to come from Port Headland or Broome and/or the RFDS. He still runs a clinic for the local community, surrounding stations and any passers-by who find themselves in need.
Now retired, Mick Lanagan still assists at accidents on the Great Northern Highway in Western Australia when called upon. 'The Australian outback can be a tough place, but you have to be prepared for it,' he says. Photo courtesy of Leon Mead: leonmeadphotography.com
## Thank God, Here Comes the Flying Doctor
NORTH-WEST NEW SOUTH WALES
As there was some perception, among the powers that be, that the ambulance was being misused as a taxi service, it was taken off the road for a fortnight and sent away for a service. A station wagon was our backup. There was no room for a trolley, but we called on the SES, should the need to transport patients arise, as they were in possession of a retired ambulance.
On my last work day before going on maternity leave with my first child, a call came through that a truck had rolled about 55 kilometres east of town with one unconscious, one 'real crook', and two walking wounded. Having alerted the Royal Flying Doctor Service (RFDS) that we were going to an accident and the SES that we would need their services with the old ambulance, the Deputy Director of Nursing (DDON), a wardsman, a medical student and I bundled into the wagon and headed east.
Upon arrival we found the unconscious man was deceased. His mate with head, chest and suspected abdominal injuries, as per initial notification, was indeed 'real crook' and there were two walking wounded with no obvious injuries. The pantech had been towing a trailer and, having perhaps gathered speed on the decline, the driver appeared to have lost control and ended up some distance down an embankment.
These four men were a long way from their home in WA and I remember feeling such sorrow for them knowing that it would be some time before they would be reunited with their families, and that one of them would not see his family again. We had no portable radios, so I was going up and down the bank to my colleagues, relaying the doctor's orders as I was getting them over the VHF radio in the car. Not that steep, but somewhat an effort with the load I was carrying.
After a stern instruction from the DDON to say that they were not out on the side of the road to deliver a baby, I was confined mostly to staying with the vehicle. In contact then with the RFDS pilot, I was asked to drive along the highway and find a straight stretch of road for the plane to land.
A few kilometres from the accident scene I found what I thought might be suitable. The only problem was a slight dip at one end. The pilot suggested I drive at 100 kilometres per hour and determine if the car 'bounced' when it hit the dip. Is he serious, I wondered? I actually did as requested, slowing down before I became airborne! I reported in that I thought it may still be okay, throwing in all disclaimers of responsibility for my lack of knowledge in construction of airstrips!
Next question from the pilot: did the newfound airstrip run east–west or north–south? In this modern age of mobile phone apps I would have been able to tell him. In their absence, we could both only laugh when I told him the sun was directly above me so I had no idea!
Final test was to take out the guideposts with the bull bar. I thought this was another odd request but the pilot reassured me it was necessary to avoid damage to the plane. Really? I wasn't exactly going to argue, being very new to this job description! So I ran over the posts but much to my amazement some sprang back up. On closer examination, they were not the usual wooden ones, but a flexible new design. I'd never seen them before. I had to line them up directly under the tyre to get them to snap off.
I returned to the accident scene where the badly injured patient was stabilised and the walking unwounded had been properly assessed. Some time elapsed and then away in the distance, the first rumbles of the approaching plane whispered over the horizon. As it came into view, I burst into tears. It was the most amazing sight. I was so relieved to see the RFDS and watched in absolute awe the majestic spectacle of this Nomad aircraft soaring above the treetops directly overhead.
We took the patient up to the highway and awaited the landing of the plane. The SES had by this time closed the highway at both ends, and there were many vehicles banked up either side. Some traveller had a video camera and was filming the scene. Poor bugger copped a bit of a mouthful from one very emotional young nurse, upset by the fact he was filming a tragic situation where mates had lost one of their own. I thought it was very insensitive until I turned around, witnessing one of the most memorable days in my nursing career, and wished I'd had a camera too.
Jane Clarke, registered nurse
## Somebody's Listening . . .
DOCKER RIVER, NORTHERN TERRITORY
In the autumn of 1975 I was stationed at the small, isolated community of Docker River, a settlement scenically nestled against the Petermann Ranges, 200 kilometres due west of Uluru.
The community had a largely transient population, about 400 people: Pitjantjatjara, Ngaanyatjarra, Yankunytjatjara and Pintubi; all desert peoples who used the fledgling outpost as a convenient staging post as they moved around their traditional countries, at the intersection of the Northern Territory, South Australia and Western Australia.
A basic services infrastructure was provided by the government. It was delivered via three teachers, two nurses, a shopkeeper, a general maintenance handyman and me, the community advisor.
We lived and worked out of a mixture of odd abodes including a corrugated-iron shed designated as my office, a generator shed and a number of 'silver bullets': large caravans looking something like huge Lego blocks, four kitted out as classrooms, the remainder as staff housing. The store was the community's centrepiece, a solid brick and mortar construction that was actually close to looking like a conventional building. Another corrugated-iron and bush-timbered shed served as the medical clinic. There was a desk and two chairs and a rickety old iron bed as the consultation facility, and the waiting room was a long bench seat on the verandah out the front, as the song goes!
The old Ayers Rock Hotel provided a social outlet and the tortuous four-hour trip, following two wheel ruts between and often over the drifting sand dunes, was considered a small price to pay to occasionally access the 'outside' world. The road had regular use, often three or four vehicles a day. Irregular grading had lowered the track surface several feet below the surrounding levels, a bit like driving in a deep, extended rut. It was a track that required extreme care and attention and definitely not one for the faint-hearted!
Our head nurse, Rae, and her husband declared an intention to spend the weekend at the Boomerang Hotel, at the Rock. As was the custom, they advised me to expect their return on mid-Sunday afternoon. It was duly noted and I reminded Rae to keep a lookout on the road, as we were expecting the arrival of our fortnightly supply truck sometime over the weekend.
Four o'clock Sunday afternoon came and went. The truck had arrived, unloaded and left at midday for the nine-hour trip back to Alice Springs. At five, our second nursing sister, Pat, came over to my caravan, noting that Rae and her husband hadn't returned. I begrudgingly suggested that they had stayed on for a few extra bevvies, but Pat would not be put off. She returned a few minutes later with the large portable first-aid kit and sent me on my way. I fuelled the Toyota, mumbling about the long trip ahead and thinking about what I would say to the errant couple when I arrived and found them breasting the pub bar.
One hundred kilometres down the track, I came across Rae's husband stumbling along the sandy track. He was mostly incoherent and dehydrated, but managed to tell me that they had hit the supply truck! Another 10 kilometres on, I came upon mayhem: a head-on collision. Rae looked up gratefully, as we pulled up.
Rae had a ruptured patella but for the next ten minutes she hobbled around giving me a comprehensive briefing on the damage. They had offered a lift back to Docker to several local women who had been sitting in the rear of their utility when the accident happened.
I got Rae seated and over the next two hours she closely directed my activities. There was a suspected fractured skull, another compound bone fracture, the two drivers in shock, many cuts and extensive abrasions. Under Rae's supervision I wrapped blankets around the shock victims, gently splinted the break, bandaged a head, applied ointments and successfully immobilised Rae, who chose this moment to tell me that she was also four months pregnant!
I was working by car headlight now. It must have been about nine o'clock when I thought I heard a car approaching. Two minutes later, headlights could be seen bobbing and weaving towards us, from the direction of Uluru. Another two long minutes and four nurses stepped out of their vehicle! They were a nursing crew heading out to Warburton, our neighbouring community in Western Australia, another eight hours west.
Coals to Newcastle and a thousand similar thoughts went whizzing through my brain as I quickly did the rounds of our patients with the girls. Satisfying myself that we were now all in good hands, I apparently strolled behind the Toyota and fainted!
The extra vehicle solved the dilemma of how we would get everybody back to Docker. It was squishy, but we got everyone into either the girls' Land Cruiser or into my utility for the slow drive back. We arrived at around midnight with Pat, our ever-vigilant sister, walking into the clinic as we pulled up.
At midnight, the generator had long been switched off. Paraffin tilly lamps lit the scene, casting eerie, elongated shadows across the room. While the phalanx of nurses regrouped and worked their wonder, I went across to my 'office' and sought medical support.
In 1975, the RFDS in Alice Springs had a duty officer sleeping in the office every night. Outlying settlements and stations were issued with a special two-toned whistle which, theoretically, when blown into the two-way radio, triggered an alarm at the base alerting the duty officer of an emergency. That was the theory! From midnight until 5.30 a.m., we whistled, three seconds on the long whistle, two seconds on the short. God I hated that device.
As dawn approached, a deep Texan drawl came over my radio.
'Who in hell is making all that squawkin' racket?'
A brief pause of bewilderment and disbelief as I replied, 'Ah, hello.'
'Yep, who are you guys makin' that god-awful noise?'
Relief started to flood through my system. 'Ah, g'day, I am at Docker River and we have a medical emergency.'
'Goddam, where on this good earth is Docker River?'
'In Central Australia,' I replied. 'Look, I don't have their number but could you get it and phone the Royal Flying Doctor Service in Alice Springs and get them to come to the radio?'
While we waited about five minutes for the RFDS duty officer to come on the line, our Texan saviour advised that he was in a US military transport approaching Guam!
The RFDS plane arrived at about nine o'clock that morning and all patients were air-lifted in to Alice. Our tired, extended crew drew breath as the Warburton-bound nurses radioed Warbo' advising that they would be a day late. They then threw their swags under my caravan and had a breather as the community got on with another day.
I have often pondered the wonders of technology; Guam, but not Alice! I never did think to ask for the guy's name, nor that of the nurses, but belatedly, a grateful thank-you for your collective efforts on that night so long ago!
In due course all evacuees recovered and returned to Docker, and Rae's baby arrived fit and healthy several months later.
Chris Burchett, former community advisor
# chapter five
WINGING TO WORK
Sometimes the only way to get to work is on a plane . . .
## Night Flight to Wyndham
DARWIN, NORTHERN TERRITORY/WYNDHAM, WESTERN AUSTRALIA
It's 2 a.m. and we are on our way from Darwin to the little muddy port of Wyndham, in northern Western Australia, to pick up a stockman who's come off second best with a pair of hooves and whose condition is deteriorating.
The Aerial Medical doctors would normally have done the flight but they have flown their maximum hours and the flight nurses have a bug so the Medical Dove is grounded. I am a casualty nurse at Darwin Hospital. That's why I'm sitting alone in the cabin of a Mickey Mouse Airlines (MacRobertson Miller Airlines) DC3 staring out into the darkness . . .
I remember back to my first week at the Darwin Hospital. I'd spent two days working in, and familiarising myself with, casualty, then found myself on night duty. Just me, on my own, with a doctor on call. The first thing I had to get acquainted with was the night switchboard, which sat behind the door in the sisters' office. It was a funny old contraption of levers and flaps and I needed to be able to make and take calls on the run. Above the switchboard the air-crash manual demonstrated its importance by hanging from its own hook. Someone had told me I was to read this manual when I had time. 'No rush, mind. There's never been an alert that anyone can recall.'
My first night shift went well. The first patient was a rather scruffy man with half a bottle of port in his coat pocket and a dead snake in a brown paper bag. He'd been bitten, he said, and showed me the tourniquet above his knee. I took his obs, which were normal, and looked in vain for fang marks. He had been sleeping rough and was covered with scratches and cuts. His obs remained normal.
I looked at the snake and read up about identification and antivenom. There was a huge amount of information. Some of it, such as the ribbon-like information pamphlets accompanying the antivenom, was so huge it'd been printed in tiny letters and needed a magnifying glass to read it.
A second patient arrived. Did I have anything to cure a hangover? I gave him a couple of aspirin and asked if he knew anything about snakes. As luck would have it, he used to work with the Wildlife Department. I showed him the snake and he became almost rapturous with delight. It was a something-or-other python and appeared to mean a great deal to him. The fact that it was not venomous meant a lot to me and would, I suspect, have meant even more to the bloke in the coat.
With his hangover overtaken by having fun with snakes, he gave me a quick lesson in jaws, retractable fangs, anal scales and a few other identifiers. My snakebite patient snored quietly. His obs stayed normal. Probably all he wanted was a bed. So the night passed . . .
One of the pilots comes out of the cockpit and asks if I would mind playing hostess and make a pot of tea. 'Have a bit of a poke around,' he adds. 'They usually give us something to munch on.' He shouts this, of course. A DC3 might be fun, but it's very noisy.
Down the back of the cabin there is a hot-water urn simmering away, loose tea in a caddy, a sugar bowl and a slab of juicy fruitcake in a tin. China cups too. While the tea is brewing I peer out the window. In the distance a storm is lighting up the clouds. Below, it's pitch black.
I've been to Wyndham before; people say it's a shabby little town but I like it just the way it is. We start losing height and beneath us, I can see just two lights. We begin circling. Round and round. Round and round. I flew in here ten days ago and we didn't circle like this. I don't think we circled at all. I start to wonder if something is amiss; the landing gear for instance?
Just before dawn on my third shift of night duty, I had taken possession of a deadly stonefish. It was in a bucket of sea water and still very much alive and the man who presented it to me had been celebrating something – possibly the stonefish – for some hours.
I asked why he was giving it to me. He staggered a little then used his eyes to direct my attention to the top of a cupboard where ancient specimens of box jellyfish, red-back spiders, various snakes, one blue-ringed octopus and several stonefish floated listlessly in jars of murky, yellowing formalin. Considering the state he was in, I figured if I didn't take it he just might be my next patient.
Before I could tell him the good news the air was filled with a wail that split the night and pretty much sobered Stonefish Man on the spot. I traced the horrific noise to the switchboard, where a little metal flap I had not noticed before had flopped down to reveal three words: Air Crash Alert.
I tried to close the flap to stop the noise so I could think, but it wouldn't stay closed. I grabbed the (as yet unread) air-crash manual folder from its hook and ripped open the cover. There in huge red letters spread diagonally down the page was written: 'PANIC!!!'
At that moment the wailing stopped and sanity returned. The phone rang. At least I was on firm ground here. I flipped the lever. It was the airport wondering why I hadn't answered the alert. A voice calmly told me that the Medical Dove with two crew and three passengers was coming in from Snake Bay on Melville Island and they feared the landing gear hadn't locked down. I was to implement the procedures in the manual and was given the ETA, which was not far off considering the landing gear had already been lowered.
The instructions in the manual were clear and easy to follow. The first thing I had to do was alert our two ambulance drivers and the second was to get two trained, off-duty nurses to go to the airport with the ambulances. Then I had to call the doctors, the matron, the medical superintendent, the on-call laboratory technician, the police, the mayor and the Administrator for the Northern Territory, etc. After that I had to call in all the off-duty nurses.
I rang for the on-duty ambulance driver. It took time for me to convince him I was not playing games. He promised to try to find a second driver. There were two phones in the nurses' home, one on each floor. No-one answered either of them. I kept ringing and finally a sleepy voice mumbled, 'Hello?' I explained the situation and said I needed her and another nurse to get dressed immediately and go with the ambulances to the airport.
She laughed, gurgling, 'I'm not falling for this,' and hung up! The airport rang. 'Where are the ambulances?' I rang Matron. She told me to call the medical superintendent. One doctor, the one who wasn't on call, came in. Oh wonders to behold.
In the meantime I went over to the nurses' home and banged on doors. With some persuasion, two of the nurses finally took off for the airport, one of them driving the second ambulance. The plane landed safely, its landing gear firmly locked in place. A faulty indicator light was the diagnosis.
At the end of the shift I found the stonefish still in its bucket of salt water. A large metal tray had been placed on top with two bricks holding it down. What a nice gift for the day staff . . .
The plane banks. I can see a few more lights and soon we're safely on the ground at Wyndham. It's a quick turnaround. Just time to say 'hi' to the nurse and get an update on the patient's condition while the stretcher is secured in the cabin. Soon we're up in the air again and heading north-east.
The stockman had some morphine and is sleepy. The horse kicked him in the back and there appears to be some kidney damage but no-one is sure how bad it is. His obs are reasonable considering. While he is asleep, I play hostess again and make the tea.
The stars are huge against the dark sky and there is a pale gleam on the eastern horizon. Piccaninny daylight. Later comes the true dawn with a molten sky ahead and away to the west the soft clouds are painted orange and pink and lavender. The cabin is filled with the most beautiful light. Down below is the dark, lacy outline of the mangrove-lined coast.
We begin the descent into Darwin and the changing pressure wakes the man. He turns his head towards the window. 'Geez, will ya look at that,' he says drowsily. 'Isn't that something?'
Margaret Hanlon Dunn, retired registered nurse
## Offshore Nurse
WANDOO B OIL PLATFORM, INDIAN OCEAN
I'd been working in a regional hospital for several years and volunteering as an ambulance officer when a friend started regaling me with stories of life working as a medic on an oil platform. The idea appealed so I put myself through the Tropical Basic Offshore Safety Induction Emergency Training (TBOSIET), as well as Helicopter Landing Officer and Industrial Medic courses. Then I resigned from my permanent job and worked casual shifts so that I'd be free to take off at short notice.
I got my break on the Wandoo B oil platform in 2008. Located 80 kilometres north of Dampier, it was my first time offshore and a real eye-opener! Flying in to the production platform on a helo was no drama as I had been in the army for nine years. The thing that impressed me most was the sheer size and cleanliness of the platform and the variety of marine life living around this artificial reef.
An oil rig is a drilling rig with a large derrick for drilling oil and gas wells. Wandoo B is a production platform which pumps oil up from reservoirs underneath the seabed and then processes it before pumping it into storage prior to export.
The other significant impression I gained on that first flight in was the potential for injury. I'm working 80 kilometres from the nearest hospital and the only access is via helicopter; if anything needs to be done it's up to me to do it. I realised my skillset would need upgrading. I started attending courses at Royal Perth and Fremantle hospitals before I heard about the health organisation CRANAplus. Through them I have undertaken several courses in First Line Emergency Care (FLEC) and with support from my employers at Wandoo B, I attended a Remote Emergency Care course in Broome in 2010, and was stoked at the skills I picked up. Recognising the benefits, my employer has made the FLEC training mandatory for all their offshore nurses.
Getting to work means a two-hour drive from Bunbury to Perth then a two-hour flight to Karratha. There I board the helo for the twenty-minute flight out to the platform. On disembarking the helicopter, I hand my lifejacket to my back-to-back (the medic who's on while I'm off) and start work as the helicopter landing officer (HLO) in charge of the helideck. The next two weeks is very much Groundhog Day as I settle into the routine of life offshore.
As well as being the HLO, my role includes being the remote area nurse, logistics administrator and radio operator. At safety meetings, I'll often give a health presentation. These tend to be driven by what's topical at the time, either in the media or for the crew and their families. Then there's the odd other job the field superintendent handballs to me.
My official day starts at 0600 hours and goes through to 1800 hours, but I'm also on call at night. We have a toolbox meeting every day at 0600 and 1745. For serious accidents I have access to an aero medical evacuation team based in Karratha, who can get to the platform quickly, if they're available, otherwise as soon as possible. In the meantime, it's my job to stabilise the patient and prepare them for transport.
Routine and discipline are important factors of life on the platform and we live, for the fifteen days of each hitch, in an all-male environment. That's fine – we all use 'man logic' – we just can't find anything! The platform has multiple levels and no lifts so everyone gets plenty of exercise. We also have two gyms, indoor and outdoor, and all rooms have wi-fi, TV and a DVD player. The marine environ-ment surrounding the platform is incredibly diverse and a source of continuous interest. We are constantly surrounded by turtles, sea snakes, fish of all shapes and sizes and heaps of really big sharks. I've seen manta rays and whale sharks and best of all, we get the annual migration of humpbacks.
Nursing offshore really is living the dream.
Stephen Fuller, registered nurse
Remote nurses aren't just inland: Stephen Fuller flies a helicopter to get to work on an oil platform north of Dampier in Western Australia. Photo courtesy of Gerrad Meiers
## Out on the Wing
ALICE SPRINGS, NORTHERN TERRITORY
A few years ago, we were on a routine RFDS clinic run, taking an ophthalmology (eyes) registrar and an ophthalmology nurse up to Ti Tree, when we get a call on the radio from the comms officer (communication officer) back at base. He said, 'Judy, you better hang around Ti Tree, you might get a bit of trade.' From the way the message was passed through, I assumed that the person didn't have severe injuries; how wrong I was.
So we continue on up; it's only a forty-minute flight from Alice Springs. We land and taxi in to the gate where we're met by the remote area nurse (RAN) hobbling.
'What happened to you?' I asked.
'We've got road accident. I fell down a pothole trying to get this bloke out of the car. We've got him back at the clinic but he's unconscious, there's lots of blood around and he's in a very bad way.'
We get into the clinic and this guy's very obviously not good. The RAN was still hopping about, but her two colleagues were ex-ICU (intensive care) nurses so between us all, we had plenty of expertise.
'Right,' I said to the registrar, 'can you intubate him?'
But no, she didn't think she could do that and then the pilot, looking a little pale, said, 'Judy, I really don't like the sight of blood.'
'That's all right,' I said, 'I don't expect you to look but I do need you to be gopher. I need a couple of pieces of equipment from the aircraft and can you ensure everything is ready so that we can load and go?' So off he goes and next thing he comes back and he's crabbing sideways around the edge of the door with his arm outstretched, looking away from the man and the blood, with this bag dangling off his finger. 'Craig, just throw it in!'
Meantime, I rang the on-call doctor back at Alice who initially told me to just load him in the plane and bring him back. However, part of our job as flight nurses on the ground is ensuring the doctor has a clear picture of the situation, so I said, 'We can't just load him. His airway's insecure; every time we move him he vomits.'
The doctor gave us the go-ahead to intubate him, so between us we got him stabilised and ready for flight. After a quick assessment of the RAN, we decided to take her too as she thought she had a broken bone in her foot.
Leaving the ophthalmologist to get on with her clinic, we took off. Unfortunately, although we got him back to hospital in Alice, from whence he was transferred to Adelaide, ultimately the guy didn't make it. But at least between us we got him home to South Australia and his family got to say goodbye to him. For us, that was something. The thing is, it's all about teamwork: everyone pitching in and doing their job or whatever is needed of them.
The weather is a challenge because we're not working in the controlled climate of a hospital. We can be out there in blistering heat or freezing cold and rain and of course sometimes the weather dictates whether we can fly at all. Working in the confined space of an aircraft can be difficult but you adapt to meet the challenge.
Technically, we work twelve-hour shifts with twelve hours off. Sometimes it can be longer because you have to get back from wherever you are. The duty doctor tasks the plane. That means he/she takes the initial call and does the triage (prioritises severity and therefore order of treatment). We always do a pre-flight assessment so that we can get a comprehensive handover of the patient's condition; this will also determine if we need additional equipment or if the flight nurse feels they need a doctor on the flight. If the nurse is concerned, the doctor has to fly but most flights don't have a doctor on them.
Lots of people are scared of flying. When we do retrievals or evacuations, if we're able to or if it's really needed, relatives come too. You often have to chat and even joke with the patients and/or rellies during the flight. Sometimes they are terrified, not just of the flight but of the whole scenario and keeping them engaged is part of our job even as we're working.
I always tell them that the most dangerous part of the journey is the ambulance ride to the strip because there are fewer idiots up in the air!
Occasionally, I've been caught out. Once we were on an inter-hospital transfer flying a man to Adelaide from Broken Hill and when speaking with his wife, who was desperate to accompany her husband, she revealed she was very scared of flying; my instinct was not to take her with us. However, we decided after much deliberation to take her along. When we got on board I explained all the sounds she would hear and how everything worked and what the safety procedures were. So, we took off and I just kept chatting to her and we were going along okay then, suddenly, we hit an almighty bump. Next thing the oxygen mask dropped down from the ceiling and she screamed . . .
Oh my God! I thought. To her, I quickly and very firmly said, 'I forgot to tell you that sometimes, on this plane, the mask falls down when we hit a bump! We're okay! There's nothing wrong!' I finally got her calmed down, reminding her that her husband was the sick one. We eventually got to Adelaide but I later reflected that I should always follow my initial gut instincts.
There is a strong connection between people who work for RFDS. Our success is based on teamwork and the belief that no-one is any more or less important than anyone else. We need everyone to ensure good outcomes. The engineers keep the planes in the air, the pilots fly them, the doctors contribute their skills and knowledge, as do the flight nurses, and the communications staff make all the connections. While the flight nurses obviously aren't doctors, we do have certain advanced skills and responsibilities. You certainly can't afford to be a prima donna. At the end of the day, we all need to work together.
I love my current role as nurse manager for South Eastern Section. I like the responsibility and autonomy and that I still get to do clinical work when I relieve staff. This section has bases at Broken Hill, Dubbo and Essendon in Melbourne, where we operate a NEPTS – Non-Emergency Patient Transfer Service – and we have full-time staff at Moomba and Ballera in the Cooper Basin oil and gas fields who undertake both primary health and emergency roles. The section is a big area with diverse people, geography and challenges.
Most people, especially nurses, stay with RFDS for a very long time. The organisation prides itself on appointing the best person for the job and we have some extraordinary people working for us. For instance, Chris Belshaw was the first nurse practitioner in the RFDS in Australia. He's the team leader in the Cooper Basin based at Moomba. He grew up in Belfast during the troubles and he tells a story about wanting to join the army, but his father told him he thought that was probably a poor career choice in Northern Ireland! Instead he trained as a nurse in Belfast and then England. The scope of his training and experience and how he came to be working for us is a story just on its own.
People will often remark how exciting our jobs must be but, while we certainly can have our share of excitement, it is not all high-end drama. We have some quite routine flights which can also be great; just having the time to chat and hear a patient's story or witnessing a patient's excitement about returning to their home town after receiving treatment in a city hospital away from their family and friends is satisfying.
If there is an emergency, for the staff or people waiting for us on the ground, hearing the aircraft flying over is said to be such a relief.
As a team, we all know we're contributing to the health and wellbeing of the people who live, work or travel in the outback and that's a pretty good thought to take home at the end of the day.
Judy Whitehead, nurse manager, South Eastern Section, RFDS
## Pormpuraaw Dreaming
WEST CAPE YORK, NORTH QUEENSLAND
I'm a clinic nurse based in Cairns with the Royal Flying Doctor Service. I was in Charleville for five years when I first joined the Service then five and a half years ago, I moved to Cairns. I was on the evac and primary health care teams when I first came up here but for the last five years, I've been doing primary health care clinics at Pormpuraaw, which is a fishing community located just south of Weipa on the western coast of Cape York. In the first couple of years I also did the western clinic run; these clinics included Georgetown, Einasleigh, Mount Surprise, Forsayth and Croydon.
Each week, I fly over to Pormpuraaw for three days so I basically have two lives: my Pormpuraaw life and my Cairns life. Pormpuraaw has about 650 residents plus people in the fishing camps and on properties, some of whom aren't Indigenous. It takes about two hours to fly to Pormpuraaw in a Cessna C208 (Caravan) and I stay Tuesday and Wednesday nights, which gives me an opportunity to do some extra education with the community. I might have a video night or a girls' night or run Core of Life program.
Sometimes I do other clinic runs on other days of the week, to Croydon for instance, or Chillagoe. It's a dream job, the best in the world. I do some emergency clinical work when in community though there are remote area nurses based there with Queensland Health, so I only need to help in an emergency if the clinic does not have enough staff on the ground. Mostly I undertake primary health care, including health promotion. I do a lot of child health and immunisations. The child health includes treatment of skin conditions, ear infections and anaemia, and completing child health checks, including keeping hearing screening up to date. The RFDS nurse has the endorsement that allows us to treat and then supply medications for these conditions.
Pormpuraaw is a happy, relatively healthy, self-managed community. There is a canteen at the football club. They have a football team and it's a very active and well-run club. Grog is banned out in the community and there is a limit to the amount of drinks you can buy at the canteen. Patrons are breath-tested on arrival and if they're not zero blood alcohol, they are not served and as it means they must have sly grog, they may be reported to the police. Everyone has a Pormpuraaw Football Club card that is swiped with each drink bought. When the limit is reached, that's it, no more. You can't buy takeaways. It was the community's decision and they manage the club and the canteen.
The school retention rate is pretty good although it can always be better. The personalities of the staff sometimes has an impact on retention levels. Someone in the community is responsible for getting older children organised to attend boarding school, as Pormpuraaw School goes to Grade 7. The children go away to Cairns, Rockhampton, Brisbane, Herberton, Ingham and Toowoomba schools. One of my roles is making sure the children have bodies and relationships education before they go away. I run Core of Life a couple of times a year for the children twelve years and above. This program teaches the adolescents the skills that they need to make lifestyle decisions, you know, educated choices about whether they want to be pregnant or not, and learning to budget so they know the cost of having a baby. One of the girls who finished Senior is off in Cairns doing her enrolled nursing at TAFE, which is a great outcome. She is doing well.
I have been running a program every Thursday for three years with the preps and pre-preps called Crocodile Kids. This is an early literacy program (singing songs, rhymes with Indigenous focus) and also encourages the children to care for each other. I also read a book with a health message. The book could be about lying, worries, protective behaviours or acceptance of each other. This program also builds relationships with the education staff, health staff, children and families.
The Circle of Security Parenting Program is making an impact. Generations ahead will see a difference. This is a parenting program based on attachment and is being well received.
Currently, I have four anaemic kids out of roughly 150. That's great. Their ears and eyes are good though dental care is still a challenge. Apart from the lack of available dentists, parents want to please their kids so they buy them lollies. Consequently dental health is suffering. We do have dental care programs happening at school and one-on-one education is provided in the child health room, but it is a problem still.
Another issue that could be minimised is gambling. Card games are popular and are very social. I would like people to have more education around budgeting so that they have their gambling money and enough money to buy food for their families. When the tax cheques come in gambling is huge; thousands of dollars can be in the ring. Some people don't go to work then – instead they stay home and gamble. There's not much in the way of hard drug use in the community but some people do smoke gunja (marijuana) and that can cause mental health problems, particularly schizophrenia. There's a high incidence of mental health problems running in some families.
It's still the best job in the world though. I love working for RFDS because you have so much autonomy to get on and do the best job you can. If the funding was cut or Pormpuraaw didn't need me any more I'd go out and take up remote area nursing, but while they'll have me I'll stay here.
The kids at Pormpuraaw call me Nana, Aunty, big mooki or Miss Lisa. When they leave the room I often say 'love you'. The mothers and children now say 'love you'. Hopefully my time here will add to the children's great memories of their childhood.
Lisa Smith, registered nurse
Lisa Smith (front right) loves her job as a nurse in Pormpuraaw, North Queensland, where the kids call her 'Aunty', 'Nana', 'big mooki' and 'Miss Lisa'.
## The Airstrip Clinic
WEST KIMBERLEY REGION, WESTERN AUSTRALIA
We did all the maternity and antenatal assessments on our RFDS clinic runs. At one station, there were probably five or six house girls who were pregnant at the same time. We didn't go into the homestead for cups of tea, so we did everything under the wing of the plane on the airstrip. I gave out the little yellow-topped bottles to get a wee specimen, but it took so long because the ladies had to find a bush and then they'd have all the petticoats. The skirts and the petticoats would come up and eventually you might get the specimen.
So I thought, Well, I'll streamline this. I'll give them all a bottle and when they hear us coming next time they'll have the 'speci' ready when we arrive. I'd never ever said piss or shit in my life, but I had to because this was the language that was used. I couldn't say to them, 'I'd like a urine specimen in this bottle.' So I said to them all, 'Every time when that Flying Doctor plane comes, now you piss in your bottle and bring them up to me.'
We only used to go there for clinic once a month and I'd forgotten that other planes came to the station. Anyway, in the end, the Flying Doctor plane did land, but it wasn't our clinic flight; it was Mr Holman and Sister Camille doing the leprosy survey. Mr Holman came back that evening and said, 'I don't know what you want them for, Doll, but I've got six specimens of piss here for you!'
Apparently it created a bit of a disruption to the household. The manager was quite cross in the end; every time the pregnant house girls heard a plane, they downed tools, raced off to piss in their bottles and then ran them up to the airstrip.
Adapted from 'The Airstrip' by Dasee Gugeri, RN, RFDS Derby, 1967–69 courtesy of the Kimberley Nurses History Group publication, Boughsheds, Boabs and Bandages: Stories of Nursing in the Kimberley
# chapter six
ANIMAL TALES
Called upon to deal with whatever turns up, nurses in rural and remote areas often serve as proxy veterinarians, but sometimes the animals in their lives are more of a threat than a challenge.
## It's Not Easy Being the Vet
BIRDSVILLE/BEDOURIE, FAR SOUTH-WEST QUEENSLAND
Australian Inland Mission nurses never refused treatment to one of God's creatures in trouble, which often got us into sticky situations dealing with animals. Knowing as much about veterinary work as I did about brain surgery (which amounted to zero), I still couldn't turn away an animal in distress if I could help it.
While sitting quietly in front of the big white screen waiting for the weekly movie to start rolling, I was called to treat a de-pelted dog that had skinned its back on corrugated-iron sheeting. After reviewing the upset canine in its owner's backyard, I directed them to bring the cantankerous mutt to the hospital for wound suturing. Under the fluorescent lighting the open wound glistened and the roll of skin and fur gathered near his tail could be pulled back into place and stitched together.As Butch had the reputation of biting anything that moved, I gave him a sedative injection before I started sewing him up as I didn't intend to become a casualty. Once he was adequately sedated and muzzled, I pulled his pelt back into position and sewed it together with catgut sutures that would dissolve in time and not require removal.
Months later I went up to Bedourie to provide medical cover for the racing carnival and carried a small supply of various narcotic drugs in my shirt pocket in case there was a fall. In my wildest dreams I couldn't have envisaged being asked to use the strong pain-relieving drugs on a horse. The race meet was a big social gathering for the locals and I enjoyed catching up with folk I hadn't seen in ages. The nags galloped around the track to the cheers of the locals who had a bet on, while the rest of us gathered at the rail.
It was during the second-last race that a prize-winning mare suddenly came to a stop in the middle of the track and the jockey jumped off her back after hearing a loud crack. He thought she must have broken her leg as she became very distressed and limped off the track favouring her front leg. My knowledge of equine anatomy amounted to zilch so I didn't offer my services.
Halfway through the last race I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see the concerned racehorse owner who asked if I was carrying any pain medication that I could give his distressed mare. With my brain in overdrive I contemplated what to give a horse as I made my way to the stalls, and the equine gods guided my hovering hand as I checked my cache of narcotics. For no other reason than it felt right, I decided to give the two ampoules of morphine and not one of the synthetic drugs I had with me. Returning home that evening, I had to enter the horse's name in the drug book to account for the two missing morphine ampoules.
Once the mare was a little more settled she was loaded on the horse float and taken home. Later that evening a vet from the city flew in by charter plane to treat the expensive racehorse and diagnosed a fractured sesamoid bone in the fetlock, which usually meant putting the animal down. The owners wanted to give her every chance of recovery, so kept her in the home paddock for weeks until it became clear that her racing days were over. The mare then took on the role of foster mum for the new foals and spent her days grazing in the nearby fields.
During one of the Flying Doctor visits a month or so later I mentioned that I'd had to treat a horse, and he mentioned that the animal may have collapsed if I'd given it synthetic drugs. That was a close call as I'd been undecided what to give it and may have ended up with a dead horse.
Sue Nilon, retired registered nurse
## Bush Vet
NORTHERN TERRITORY
I should have known when I decided in 1993 to go bush, I was probably going to be in for a few surprises. I was advised by a few of my friends already working in the Northern Territory that if I was going to work in remote communities I should practise up on my suturing skills. So I began to practise suturing on a piece of pickled pork. This I am told is the closest thing to human skin and tissue.
I was sent off to a remote community north-east of Alice Springs for my introduction to bush nursing. I was very excited and couldn't wait to commence working in the clinic the next day. However, when my friends waved goodbye I was very much beginning to feel the apprehension settle.
It was only a few minutes later that one of the community members came to my door saying there had been an accident and could I go with her to the patient? The patient turned out to be a young female dog who had given birth recently to a litter of pups. The problem was she'd been involved in an accident and her teats were hanging off. My enthusiasm by this stage was waning. Never mind, I thought, I can really practise my newly acquired suturing skills. I was hoping to appear very in control, though one look at my face would have given the game away.
I reassured my doggy patient, cleansed the injury site as directed by my CARPA Standard Treatment Manual and my friend's recent instructions, and went about suturing the new mother's teats back into pretty much the same place as where they had been earlier in the day. I was so happy to see in the next few days both mother and her babies all feeding naturally.
I have very many happy memories of my time in the Northern Territory and have been very privileged to work with other bush nurses, Aboriginal health workers and all the wonderful resilient Aboriginal people I was proud to have met.
Jennifer Bailey, registered nurse
## My Hero
SOUTH AUSTRALIAN/WESTERN AUSTRALIAN BORDER COUNTRY
Years ago I went out to a station that sits just over the SA–WA border on the only hill for hundreds of miles around. I went there to be governess for the friend of a friend I'd done midwifery with. As the station was also the local bush nursing centre (a caravan) and weather reporting station, I ended up doing all sorts of other things.
The only other building was a motel-cum-café/bar, refuelling stop with a small landing strip down near the sand dunes, catty-corner across the highway. At that time the bitumen stopped at the border, a few kilometres back. They were in the process of building a BP service station right on the border, which was completed while I was there. I actually added cleaner to my jobs, while they were building, as there was no-one else to do it.
As the owners of the station were unable to get away together, because of the above commitments, they viewed my arrival with open arms, and promptly decided to take advantage by taking several holidays in Perth. There are many tales to tell, humorous and horrendous, of my time out there, but this one particularly sticks in my memory.
We occasionally got messages via the radio about escaped convicts from Perth, possibly heading across the Nullarbor to try and lose themselves in an eastern city. We also had a young policeman who spent most of his time off fishing, who was supposed to be available to back me up in times of trouble. I had a white German shepherd, Sabre by name, who was the love of my life at the time and much more effectual than the policeman.
A call came in, mostly put to the back of my mind as I was busy at the time, but when a seedy, burnt young man appeared walking up my hill, the alarm bells rang. The story he gave, of being burnt when he took off his radiator cap, was vaguely believable. I did get a lot of rough-looking types turn up on my doorstep; the fettlers from Reid and the fishermen from Madura (a volatile mix, with alcohol, occasioning some extensive patch-ups), but this guy made me uneasy. I put him in the 'hospital' caravan and nervously attempted to chat. I took Sabre in with me as I started to peel some debris from the second-degree burns.
He smelt heavily of alcohol, but I offered him pain relief, which he (very suspiciously) refused. I must admit to disappointment as I was contemplating some heavy-duty sedation to make him amenable while I went inside and phoned the motel for help. I reiterated that it would hurt as it was obviously not a recent burn and was already infected; it needed to be cleaned. He refused to let me call the Flying Doctor and told me to get on with it. I tried not to ask too many probing questions, like where was his vehicle? I hoped the alcohol in his system would aid the pain relief and he would leave promptly.
Despite my caution, unsurprisingly he was agitated. He suddenly started screaming abuse at me and tried to grab me forcibly around the throat. At this, my Sabre leapt from the floor and launched his 54 kilos at his throat. Luckily for him he had his arm raised, and Sabre only ripped the arm and not his throat. My hero did sit on him though, holding the arm and snarling meaningfully, while I rather shakily said, 'Good boy, hold!' as though he was a trained attack dog and not my big, sooky mate!
I dashed across to the house to phone the motel where, needless to say, the policeman was unavailable. However, four fishermen were drinking in the bar. They came and rescued me, staying while I gave him a heavy dose of Largactil and rather ineptly sewed his arm up.
It turned out he really was a nasty piece of work who could have easily done me major damage or even killed me, if it hadn't been for Sabre, my hero.
Julie Hogarth, registered nurse
When Julie Hogarth was physically attacked by a dangerous patient, her dog, Sabre, came to the rescue, tackling the man to the ground while Julie called for help.
## Good Neighbours
YARAKA, CENTRAL WESTERN QUEENSLAND
I first met Janine Hawkes ('Neen' as she was known) in March 1994. She was the district nurse in the Yaraka area. I had moved up from a property near Quilpie to manage Mount Marlow. Neen and her husband John (known as Hawkes) owned a small property called Merrigal, adjoining Mount Marlow. Neen's a born nurse and became a godsend to me over the next seven years, culminating in saving my life. Many were the times she stitched up my dogs and me after various station accidents.
My first experience of Neen's expert nursing care was when I first arrived at Mount Marlow. I had stitches in my arm, which she removed for me. She always seemed to be stitching up my left hand: cuts from the slip of a knife when killing sheep and cattle for meat for the station. Occasionally she used to take charge of the Isisford Hospital, and after a few trips to Isisford to repair another cut, my wife bought me a mesh glove for that hand.
I was pumping up a truck tyre at Mount Marlow once, when the split rim flew off and hit me in the forehead. The result was another 35-kilometre trip to Merrigal for stitches. Another time I can remember lying on the lounge-room floor at Merrigal while Neen did another repair job, with one of her small daughters holding my hand and offering me heaps of comforting words!
I ran a chainsaw into my leg on another occasion; the list seems endless. Neen was always removing Mulga sticks from our legs, a consequence of mustering on motorbikes. If it wasn't sticks, it'd be metal or some such thing from our eyes.
Many of my dogs were repaired by Neen on the floor at Merrigal. Two cases spring to mind. The first was when one of my dogs was racing down beside a weldmesh fence. There was one piece of weldmesh which had broken off one end, and was sticking out. The dog ran it up his hip, causing a long, deep cut, which Neen stitched up for me. The other time I was out on a bike running waters, not long after shearing. I noticed one woolly sheep running with all the freshly shorn ones. I cut him out of the mob and told the dog to go and catch it for me. He jumped off the bike, and strangely pulled up, sat down and looked at me. I said, 'Go on, get hold of him.' He caught the sheep but when I rode over to them I noticed there was blood just pouring out of his foot. On closer inspection I found that he had torn one of his claws and pad off his back foot. I still have no idea how it happened, and can only guess he may have caught it in the bike chain when he jumped off. Once again, Neen came to the rescue.
Then there came the day she saved my life, but that's a story for another time.
As you can imagine, Janine Hawkes was a well-loved figure around Yaraka. Apart from being a first-rate nurse, she was a good friend to many, and a valuable contributor to community life in this very small outback town.
John Paul Tully, retired grazier, Queensland
## Hungry the Horse
KIMBERLEY REGION, WESTERN AUSTRALIA
When you work in a remote community you end up being much more than just a nurse. This was certainly the case for me and my partner, when one day a newborn foal of a wild horse was brought into our clinic in the remote community of Oombulgurri. The foal had been left by its mother and could not stand or walk, so a couple of dingos were in the process of eating her. They had started on her rump.
We did not have high hopes for her as she could not even lift her head; she was dehydrated and in shock. But we did what we could and with out-of-date stock that we kept for animal emergencies we placed an intravenous cannula and started to rehydrate her. We also commenced antibiotics to prevent the dingo bites from becoming infected. Soon enough she perked up and we were able to start feeding her powdered milk, at first syringing the milk into her mouth until she was able to lift her head to drink out of the container.
During this first day we gave her regular pressure area care, turning her every couple of hours. By the end of the day we decided that she needed to be put into a standing position just for a minute. We carried her from the clinic to our nice grassy yard to give her something soft to fall on. Carefully we positioned her and supported her into a standing position with both of us holding her. She was very weak and unsteady; if either of us had let her go she would have toppled over. But foals are different from human babies and despite being totally unsteady, she stretched out a foot to take a step. We supported her to take a couple of steps and assisted her back to the ground.
We stayed up late that night to make sure she was okay and to give her the last antibiotic for the day. With such a sick animal, it was in the back of our minds that she may not make it through the night. We woke early to check on her; she was alive and she was hungry! She could suck down a container of milk quicker than a Yankauer sucker could. We continued her care as we had done the day before. We also attempted to keep her cool by placing her in the shade and wiping her down throughout the day. The days were on average 43 degrees and she appeared to be running extra hot due to the dingo bites, which were red, swollen and painful. After work we stood her up again; she was still unsteady and we thought she would have fallen if either of us had stopped supporting her, but she was having none of this. She took a few unsteady steps then started to run. She could run in a straight line okay, but turning and stopping were a problem. You could see the happiness in her face as ran and she gained confidence.
There was no stopping her now; she was mobile and she was hungry!
It didn't take long to fall in love with Hungry. She was loving and cheeky, but she was not the best-looking horse we had ever seen; she had a wall-eye and a lumpy rump.
All horse owners would agree that horses are expensive to keep. Hungry was no exception. She would go through a large bag of 'calf' powdered milk a week. We had to get this flown into the community as this was the only way to get stores in. Luckily for us the local airways were very helpful and would bring them out for free if they had a plane coming out.
Hungry grew and grew and remained hungry, but she was not interested in eating grass like a regular horse, she only wanted milk and she had no problem letting us know!
After nine months of caring for Hungry we started looking for a suitable home for her. After many phone calls, we found a horse trainer who trained with love and not force. He also trained Indigenous children to care for horses and to ride. This seemed like a perfect fit for Hungry.
The next hurdle was to get Hungry to him. She couldn't fly; the only option was to put her on a barge. It was the saddest day to see Hungry go, and to add to this she was scared and stressed. But the horse trainer was true to his word and stayed in the horse float with her the entire twenty-four-hour barge trip.
Hungry got to grow up in a happy, carefree environment with other horses. She was weaned off the milk and her name was changed to 'Oombi' to reflect where she came from. She was trained with love and is now a working horse near Alice Springs; she apparently loves to work and is miffed if she doesn't get to go out.
So if you ever see a big, beautiful horse with a wall-eye, a lumpy rump and a cheeky personality, you are probably looking at Hungry. Say hi from me.
Shelley Munro, rural remote nurse practitioner, lecturer Charles Sturt University
Shelley Munro knows that remote area nurses don't just treat humans. Hungry the horse was abandoned by her mother and set upon by dingos, then brought to Shelley's clinic. She didn't have high hopes for Hungry, but with careful medical attention the cheeky and loving foal was nursed back to full health.
## Scaly Surprise
DERBY, WESTERN AUSTRALIA
I am a midwife and I work in a remote maternity unit. One day I had to go out in the ambulance to collect a pregnant lady who was apparently in labour. Unfortunately this woman was a heavy drinker and subsequently, a frequent caller of the ambulance. As per usual this woman was brought back to the maternity unit for assessment and sobering up.
While she was sitting up in the labour ward bed with the CTG (cardio-topography) monitor attached, she proceeded to tell me about the snake in her bag. It was about handover time, so the night duty midwife was also listening to the story. I said to the woman that I didn't believe her, but in her drunken stupor she proceeded to assure us that there was indeed a snake in her bag. I asked her to show me and she agreed.
At this point my colleague quickly departed the room, saying that she was terrified of snakes. I lifted the woman's bag, which was curiously rather heavy, onto the labour bed. I took a few steps back as she started to rummage around in her bag and mumble that she was intending to eat the snake for dinner.
To my shock and amusement the woman finally hauled out a massive black-headed python and dumped it on the bed between her legs. As I called my colleague back to see the sight before me, which you would only see in a remote setting, the patient and I both started to laugh.
My colleague returned but only made it as far as the labour ward door before screaming loudly and running away. Regretfully, I found my colleague very distressed in the nurse's station, stating that she would not be able to take over from me until the snake was removed from the building.
Being pretty keen to go home myself, I went back into the labour ward and asked the woman to put her snake away. I then proceeded to put her bag outside, lock the door and shut the curtains. Despite all of this commotion the CTG continued to run smoothly even though it was a very flat 'drunk' trace.
I am pleased to say that my colleague has forgiven me and now when someone says they are scared of something I believe them.
By the way, the snake was dead.
Vanessa Page, registered nurse
## A Snake is a Snake
AMPILATWATJA, NORTHERN TERRITORY
We've been doing this for about six years. We come from the Blue Mountains and Sydney. We were going to a Third World place, probably Africa, when the opportunity came up for us to go up and relieve for a couple of weeks at Ampilatwatja, near Utopia, north-east of Alice Springs.
It was such a great experience we joined an agency and went to Balgo in Western Australia for two years. I was the clinical coordinator for the Kutjunka area while Rhonda worked as RAN at the clinic.
I was walking along one day and Vikki was following me. I saw this thing on the ground and thought, That's not a stick, and started walking backwards but when I ran into Vikki she started pushing me forward saying, 'C'mon. Let's go!' I'm saying, 'No, no,' knowing I can't tell her it's a snake because she terrified of them. Finally she's pushing so hard I say, 'It's a snake!' By the time I turned around she was gone!
She'd taken off, but she'd actually gone and found a local boy who thought he might have scored an easy lunch. When they got back, he took one look and said, 'No, I don't want that. It's a poisonous snake. It might bite me. I don't want that.' At the same time, I'm saying, 'We just want to get rid of it . . .' He was no help! He wandered off and the snake wriggled under our house. We went into the house and turned the airconditioner on freezing in the hope it would be too cold for it to come inside.
I got kind of used to snakes eventually. A couple of years later, we were working up at Borroloola. One day, we'd changed a tyre on our 4WD and we'd just finished when we decided we should give it a good clean; we hadn't done it for months. Rhonda walked round to the back of the car and there was a king brown, right there! We let that one go, but I was a bit stunned to see it since we'd been kneeling on the ground changing the tyre a few minutes before.
Next day, we'd just come home for lunch break and Rhonda sat down on the lounge. I went over to the kitchen to wash up a couple of things in the sink. I lifted up the tea towel and there was a small snake lying under it. I stepped back and yelped, 'Snake, snake!'
Rhonda watched the snake slither all over the bench while I rang Edna, an elderly white lady who works at the clinic, to get someone to help. She couldn't find anyone else so she came herself. She said, 'Have you got tongs, a hammer and a sharp knife?'
I'm like, 'Right, okay, yeees.' The tongs weren't very strong but Edna's got a hold of the head with the tongs while I hit it with the hammer. I said, 'What do you want me to do with the knife?' She said, 'Cut its head off.' So I'm there sawing away with knife. Off came the head. She picked it all up, took it outside and said, 'Okay, see you back at the clinic.'
We think it was a death adder. We've got a photo of it.
Rhonda Smith and Vikki Robertson, registered nurses
# chapter seven
SOME DAYS ARE DIAMOND
In amongst the often monotonous, sometimes challenging, occasionally tragic days experienced by rural and remote nurses, there are cameo days when something funny, extraordinary and/or just plain warm and fuzzy makes all the other days totally worthwhile.
## The Apprentice
NORTH-WEST NEW SOUTH WALES
Hospital trained, I returned to my local community without any post-graduating experience. It was literally a matter of sink or swim – fast! I was taught to suture on only my second late shift, by the wardsmaid! A couple of blokes had belted each other over the head and required their matching scalp lacerations to be stitched up. I thought it was time to recall the matron until persuaded otherwise by my colleague. I phoned the Royal Flying Doctor Service (RFDS) who reinforced that it would be me performing this exercise on not one, but two victims; I considered them victims, not of each other, but of this very junior 'sister'! Okay, I thought, so I have seen it done before, but I muttered, 'How in the hell am I going to do this by myself?'
'No worries!' I was assured by the said wardsmaid. She retrieved a block of chipboard from the cupboard beneath the outpatient's sink. A foam pad covered in red vinyl sat atop this rather tired masterpiece, with a split down the length of it. After a demonstration it was my turn to bring these edges together, the closest one could get to 'doing the real thing', I was told. After all, the texture did mimic that of human tissue – sort of. First push the needle through the tough dermis, into soft tissue and out the other tough side with a bit of a tug. Tying knots was the easy part!
Victim one kindly lay down on the trolley and went to sleep, oblivious to the novice operating on him. Job done! Victim two was not so cooperative. He insisted on sitting upright, having the hide to question why my hands were shaking. I gave them both the 'return if any concerns, sutures out in seven days' lecture. I never did see either of them again so perhaps that meant the sutures fell out themselves. I just hoped there was good wound union and that they at least lasted a few days!
Jane Clarke, registered nurse
## Morning Smoko with Jacko
OODNADATTA, NORTHERN SOUTH AUSTRALIA
As part of our patient care program we visited a few of our elderly Indigenous folk at home who would otherwise miss out on vital medication. One of my favourites was Jacko, who lived with his wife and extended family in one of the numerous camps that dotted the town. Jacko was a proud old fella who led a quiet life in his camp and made horse hobbles and carved native animals from gigi tree branches. He was a family elder and well respected by everyone, but no longer played an active part in tribal gatherings as he had a failing heart.
As far as we could ascertain he was between seventy-five and eighty years old considering that he'd been a soldier in World War I as a young fella and re-joined the army during WW II. After returning home he'd worked on the land for many years as a drover, before eventually settling in town about a decade ago when his poor health forced him to lead a sedentary life. As his children drifted away from town, his source of more traditional tucker dried up and his pension money was spent buying basic perishables from the store. His years on the land had his tastebuds still yearning for goanna, lizard and kangaroo, which had become a treat and not the norm in his diet.
One particular morning as I drove up to Jacko's place I was alarmed at the amount of smoke billowing from his backyard fire and quickly entered his gate thinking that I'd have to extinguish a blaze. With my nose twitching and eyes watering at the dreadful smell of burning fur emanating from the camp fire, I was taken aback at seeing a big grey kangaroo carcass draped over the shallow fire pit with flames licking up its flanks. The large roo's body was still fully furred and its open abdomen spilt pink entrails from a chest-to-tail cut. Its limp, long tail extended well beyond the glowing coals and would be savoured as a tasty titbit later in the day. I was forced to control my roiling stomach as Jacko proudly showed me his delicacy and invited me back for some tucker 'when him big fella cooked'. Needless to say, I declined his generous offer and suggested that he save some for the family.
Most days Jacko popped over to the community nurse's place for morning smoko, where he enjoyed sweet black tea and biscuits. When the community nurse was away he'd invite the hospital nurse to join him for smoko when we dropped in his tablets. Being prepared for his invitation to join him for smoko, we'd pack a few bickies into a container and bring our own mug. Perched on a log in my white uniform, I'd listen to the most amazing stories of his youth and time spent on the land in bygone days, and watch his rheumy eyes mist over as he lamented their passing.
One of his biggest concerns was for those in his community who'd succumbed to the temptation of the bottle, and Jacko felt saddened that many members of his community had lost their tribal ways and become dependent on 'white fellas' for their survival.
In keeping with our traditional landowners' beliefs, I have called this proud Australian Jacko so that his spirit may continue to rest in Dreamtime and not be disturbed by mentioning his real name.
Sue Nilon, retired registered nurse
## Sharing Women's Business
CENTRAL NORTHERN TERRITORY
This is a lovely story about the experiences I have had with Aboriginal people working out in a remote community. I live in Brisbane and work as an RAN (remote area nurse) doing relief work through an agency for up to six months at a time.
In one community, I was able to go out with the women looking for bush food, bush medicines and raw materials for their crafts. I was lucky enough to have that opportunity and go to some wonderful and amazing places and experience all the different age groups together, with older women passing their knowledge on to younger women. I learnt a lot about the bush and learnt how to prepare some of their bush medicines, where to find them and how to use them.
I used to try and organise trips out with the women every other week, depending on how many 4WDs were available. One week my husband was coming up to stay and it was the week that we normally did an outing. Because it was women's business I thought we wouldn't be able to do the trip because it's something the women do. I talked to one of the elders about it. She put her hands on her hips and declared very assertively, 'They need to know as well!' She was quite forceful about it.
There were other people in town that week so we ended up having seven 4WDs to go out on the trip. There were all different age groups, from grandmothers down to babies. I had a couple of older women in the troopy with me and the elder, who was in her late seventies, was in another vehicle. She stopped along the track, but the women in my car said they wouldn't get out because there was nothing there. They said the elder's eyesight wasn't good any more and she couldn't see. It was lovely watching the way they interacted and worked things out. We eventually moved on to another place that everyone was happy to go to.
We got out and we started digging for honey ants. The women were using digging sticks they'd brought with them, but I had a spade I'd brought. I was digging away and the elder pushed me aside, saying I was no good at it, so my husband had a go because she said he had the muscles. After a while, she pushed him away too, saying, 'None of you are very good. I'll have to show you all how to do it.' And so she did and it is a real art. It was interesting watching her and the other women and how they worked together.
On these trips to their country I always used to buy kangaroo tails to take with us to cook up while we were there. It was interesting to see how they served up, deciding who got what. There was my husband with the most beautiful piece of kangaroo tail presented so beautifully to him on a bark plate and I was thinking, That's a bit unfair, but that's just the way it is.
We had some other young men, white fellas, who were there that day that were visiting the community as well, and the women were really keen to share their knowledge with all of them. They took the time to take us around and show us their country. It was a real privilege.
I try to go back to the same communities because there is continuity then. I know the people when I go back. I've done many different things, often on my own or sometimes with other nurses. I have learnt that you can take the good ideas that work in one community and share the information with other communities. However, it is up to that community whether they decide to use the ideas.
Many people I've met have tended to live in the moment. For instance, one day we were all busy collecting bush medicines for the women to take to a women's meeting they were going to. We spent hours going out collecting the raw material and coming back and preparing everything. You notice a wonderful sense of sharing as they're going about their business. The knowledge is handed down through the generations. The women talk amongst themselves as they're working and deciding what to do. While you're out there, they tell their stories, talking about the country and what's needed and what's available at any given time. It's very, very special to be included.
On this particular occasion, it got too hot so I said, 'Let's leave it and we'll get it all together in the morning and then it'll be ready to take.' At times, everything is done at the last minute. So next morning, we got it all together and they were so excited but then someone came along and said something else needed doing, and so the bush medicine was just left. They took off to do whatever the next important thing was and forgot about the medicines. I just gave the bundles to one of the drivers to give to them when they got there.
Kathy Wooldridge registered nurse, BN, MACN
Kathy Wooldridge samples some bush tucker as a relief nurse in central-northern Australia.
## Bush Medicine
KIMBERLEY REGION, WESTERN AUSTRALIA
An elderly Aboriginal man came in to the hospital to have his prostate gland removed. He arrived resplendent in his new gear and an enormous 10-gallon hat. It could only be removed when he was anaesthetised! He was a small man and was quite a sight sitting up in bed under his huge hat.
After his surgery, he became disorientated and started to remove all his dressings. Consequently, his wound became infected. No amount of antibiotics had any effect on the infection. He got agitated and kept muttering in his own language about his wound.
An Aboriginal orderly who could speak English said that the man wanted some ant bed. So, in the hospital Land Rover, we went to knock down some ant bed. We took it back to the old man and his face lit up. He took the ant bed, ground it up, spat on it until he made a paste and then applied it to his wound. He allowed me to put a dressing on it but then I had to leave it for ten days.
When the dressing was removed, the wound was healed. We were amazed. A sample of the ant bed dust was sent to Perth for analysis. It was found to be a form of streptomycin.
Adapted from a story by Nan Farmer, Derby District Hospital, 1963–1970, courtesy of the Kimberley Nurses History Group publication, Boughsheds, Boabs and Bandages: Stories of Nursing in the Kimberley
## My Darling Darling
KIMBERLEY REGION, WESTERN AUSTRALIA
There are particular moments and particular people who stay with you long after you have left a job and an area. I was nursing in a remote town on an eight-week contract. It was a 'fill in time' and 'fill up the bank balance' job before I made more permanent plans.
An elderly Indigenous man had been admitted for some respite and care. He was dying from cancer and his wife usually provided all care for him. However, they lived on a remote community and it became difficult at times to sustain the level of care he needed. This elderly couple had a special something between them and the devotion of the wife to her husband was truly beautiful.
She would assist the nursing staff as much as possible with all his cares and was always ready at his side should he need her. There were many moments of giggles. For instance, when we would try to roll him over to do his cares and he would accidentally grab his wife's bosom, or when I showed her the device I would use to roll over her husband's penis to fit him with a urine bag. She thought this was absolutely hilarious and said that the device was much too small.
This man was a fully initiated Aboriginal man who spoke limited English. I think he understood everything but chose not to speak to us much; his eyes did most of the communicating. One morning we were attending to this man's morning shower and after washing him and dressing him in the bathroom, I pushed him out in his wheelchair to where his wife was waiting. I said, 'Look, there is your lovely wife.' And in a very gruff voice he said, 'That's not my lovely wife.' I was a bit shocked, but in the next breath he stated, 'That is my darling Darling.'
I was so moved by this couple and their love.
Aggie Harpham, registered nurse
## Laughter's the Best Medicine
KIMBERLEY REGION, WESTERN AUSTRALIA
I was a local impressionable fifteen-year-old assistant nurse (there were no registered nursing aides at that time) and was excited, fascinated and eager, so I soaked up everything there was to learn.
The hospital was old and sort of condemned by the health law because every now and then the kitchen chimney plugged up and caught on fire and smoked the place out. We would have to phone the pub for all hands on deck to put out the fire. This happened regularly, about once a month. We also had a big bell stand that we had to run out and ring.
Other than the Flying Doctor, at Derby Hospital there were twenty-eight beds and outpatients to deal with in a day's work. We had to do routine urine testing the old way for all admissions, with a few crystals of this or that, and a few drops of this or that and shake it up and boil it over a Bunsen burner, being very careful so it wouldn't shoot all over the place.
Cultures for throat swabs of infections were put in Petri dishes that then went into the incubator. There was no lab until 1958, I think.
The new Flying Doctor base was opened in 1959 and the governor-general and Lady Gairdner were present to officiate. Then they were to come over to the hospital to visit. We were meant to be all starched and looking our best; however, an Aboriginal woman came in to have her twelfth baby and interrupted the whole show. Lady Gairdner visited the patients and when she asked the woman how she felt, she said, 'Just like taking a big shit, missus!'
Though we worked hard, there was always something that happened during our busy day to give you a laugh. One day, during outpatients, a jackaroo came up to see the doctor.
'Can I help you?' I asked.
'Yes,' he said. 'I've got the clap.'
I told the doctor, so when he went in, the doctor said, 'You shouldn't be so crude to the nurse. If she asks what's wrong, tell her you have something wrong with your ear.'
So when the guy got to outpatients and I asked what I could do to help him, he said, 'I can't pee out of my ear.'
Adapted extract from 'Derby District Hospital' by Faye Smith (Laackman) 1955–1962 Courtesy of the Kimberley Nurses History Group publication, Boughsheds, Boabs and Bandages: Stories of Nursing in the Kimberley
## Cops and Robbers
NORTH-WEST NEW SOUTH WALES
It was my first ambulance call-out in a small community. The call came through that a man was having an asthma attack on the steps of the post office, and he's 'in a real bad way, sister'. This fellow was known to other staff.
I was given a brief history on his background, and it was stated that he 'mustn't be too good' to actually request assistance; a bit of a 'tough' character, I was informed. Great, I thought, first ever time on ambulance call and I end up with a real emergency!
Off we go, planning already underway for respiratory support. I thought we may even need to prepare for aminophylline infusion so had everything ready to go. I hadn't successfully cannulated before, so the main plan was to get him back to the hospital asap.
On arriving at the post office, I found a large man sitting on the steps with moderate respiratory distress. All good, I thought. I determined I had enough time to get him back to the hospital to commence any infusions. I jumped out of the ambulance and on approaching this fellow I had more than a few obscenities thrown at me for 'taking my time'. He yelled at me, 'Gimme a f***ing puffer!' I had wondered why the girls had given me one as I left the hospital, when I was preparing for something much bigger.
As he lumbered towards me, I retreated and threw the damn thing at him! He puffed away on it then ran off! That wasn't supposed to happen, I thought. What the hell am I going to tell Matron? I was called out and didn't have any show and tell to take back with me. How did I explain that I didn't have a patient and, even worse, how could I complete my assessment and paperwork?
As I stood there pondering how to explain myself to Matron, the police came tearing around the corner. They stopped and asked if I had a seen a man fitting a particular description.
'I sure have!' I proudly told them. 'He was my first ambulance call-out!'
They thanked me very much for giving him some fresh wind to allow him to take off again. They had been trying to catch him for several hours!
Jane Clarke, registered nurse
## Appreciation
HIGH COUNTRY, VICTORIA
Early one morning I was called to a little boy about nine or ten years of age. He had got up very early and had been on his way after the cows, when he could not go any further. He lay on the grass wet with dew and slept until found there, still fast asleep. When they tried to wake him to go on after the cows, they realised he was ill so sent for me.
I found him gravely ill and decided to take him straight to Dr Ley, 25 miles (40 kilometres) from my cottage. I had to nurse the boy all the way, as he just could not be made comfortable any other way and it seemed the most awkward position I moved to was the most comfortable for him.
I would get stiff and try to get a little more comfortable but, as sure as I did so, he would moan and be restless. So there was nothing else to do but just stay uncomfortable and get very stiff.
When Dr Ley saw the boy, he marvelled that I carried him all that way. At once he called Mrs Ley and said: 'This is our wonderful bush nurse. I would be pleased, dear, if you would take her with you to the hall and look after her. She is very tired but a change will do her good.'
I tried to get out of going, but could not do so without being absolutely rude. I was so tired and would have liked a good rest and sleep. But, away we went and I overheard doctor say to Mrs Ley, 'Give her a good time. Tell the doctors to lionise her.' They were all wonderful to me but I was honestly very glad when I was on my way home again. The boy had rheumatic fever.
Extracts adapted from Memoirs of a Victorian Bush Nurse in the 1920s by Alice Martin, registered nurse and midwife, transcribed by her daughter, Val Watson
# chapter eight
ON DEATH AND DYING
The one sure thing about life is death. Sharing the journey is an experience nurses generally consider a privilege.
## A Special Brand of Bush Care
CENTRAL NORTHERN TERRITORY
On 28 January 2004, at the age of fifty-four, my husband Allen was diagnosed with motor neurone disease (MND). We were living in Willowra, a remote Indigenous community three and a half hours from Alice Springs, out in the Tanami Desert. I was the community nurse and Allen was our part-time clinic gardener, cleaner and driver. He was also employed part-time in the community school where, in a somewhat bizarre twist, he was working with a young disabled lad in a wheelchair, striving to improve the boy's independence.
A remote community probably sounds like the worst possible place to be, in the circumstances, but it proved to be quite the opposite.
After Allen's diagnosis, we made the joint decision to stay in Willowra. Allen's attitude to his illness was that he had 'ten good years ahead so let's get on with enjoying life'. We were already booked to fly to Cambodia for our annual leave, a journey we had been making each year since year 2000, to do voluntary work in an orphanage. Before we'd moved to Willowra, Allen had spent his spare time collecting unwanted pushbikes and refurbishing them. He would then fill a shipping container with the bikes and other goods and dispatch them to Cambodia prior to our yearly departure.
In 2003, we'd taken our son Aaron with us to help Allen pour concrete floors in buildings we were refurbishing at the orphanage and he had returned to Cambodia to teach English. Our forthcoming visit this time was extra special because Aaron was marrying his Khmer fiancée.
We flew out as planned in April, ten weeks after Allen's diagnosis. On the day of the wedding Allen had his first fall; he blamed the grass for catching his foot. We flew from Cambodia to Laos to continue our holiday and it was noticeable that Allen was tiring easily; he was, until now, a man who had always had boundless energy. After fourteen days in Laos we flew back to Cambodia and into Siem Reap, where we celebrated our thirty-third wedding anniversary at the outdoor market with a two-course meal and a Klang beer for the princely sum of $2.50. 'Pity we won't make it to our fiftieth anniversary,' Allen remarked. This was the first indication that he had accepted his life was going to be cut short.
While on holiday we realised his legs were weakening, and we decided to ask my boss for a transfer to a community on the bitumen . . . still remote, but without the danger of closed roads in the rain. We returned to Willowra after a wonderful six-week holiday, and I packed the house with very mixed emotions. We moved to Ti Tree, about 200 kilometres north of Alice Springs on the Stuart Highway, where our house was 100 metres from the clinic.
Soon after this Allen began walking with the aid of wrist crutches. Our DMO (district medical officer) suggested to me that we have a visit from the palliative care team from Alice Springs. I was absolutely horrified. My initial response was, 'No way!' In my mind palliative care meant dying and I was not ready to face that prospect.
However, after my initial negative reaction our DMO talked to me about making early contact with appropriate agencies and services as a long-term strategy, whether or not we would need them in the short term. And so the amazing Fred Miegel, palliative care nurse, entered our life and what an important part of it he was to become for both of us.
Fred's compassionate honesty at our first meeting prepared me mentally and emotionally for the journey ahead. Twelve years previously we had watched Allen's father, at the age of sixty-eight, succumb to the same illness over a two-and-a-half-year period. We knew the journey ahead.
Allen was adamant that he wasn't going to get to the same stage as his father. He was afraid of being 'kept alive' in a totally helpless state, unable to communicate with his loved ones. He had always been so active and he could think of nothing worse. Fred talked to us both about the role of palliative care, and Allen's rights and options in refusing life-prolonging care. He explained the Natural Death Act. We talked about a lot of things, most of which I don't remember, but I have a very clear recollection of us both feeling empowered and at ease at the end of the two-and-a-half-hour session.
In time, Fred introduced us to the other members of the palliative care team, who travelled up from Alice Springs to see us regularly. No words can adequately describe that team and their support. The remote physiotherapist and occupational therapist (OT) came on board and, as Allen's needs changed over time, the appropriate aids and equipment just appeared with the visiting team members.
Within six months, I was caring for Allen completely and working full-time as an RAN at the clinic. My shoulders ached constantly from lifting. Our DMO contacted the Alice Springs Carer's Respite Association and, through them, a carer was funded to shower Allen alternate days, relieving some of the physical stress on my body. In addition, Carer's Respite funded an hour's massage for me on our monthly visits to Alice Springs – a godsend!
When Allen began experiencing swallowing difficulties, the allied health team brought the speech pathologist with them; another delightful lady. She assessed his problems and provided advice and strategies to assist, though she was never able to convince him that a beer would taste the same with thickener in it!
By October, nine months from diagnosis, Allen had gone from riding his pushbike daily to crutches, to walking frame, to wheelchair. At each stage the transition was handled with empathy and dignity by the various team members. When the physio initially brought the walking frame after several falls, he stubbornly refused to use it. She respected his wishes, and took it away without argument; by her next visit, much to my relief, he had come to his own decision that he needed it.
I was stunned at the relentless rapidity of Allen's deterioration. His positive, determined outlook and the medication had not slowed the symptoms at all. I knew the average prognosis in Australia was twenty-nine months from diagnosis and it was apparent that Al was going to spend most of that time in a wheelchair. He was absolutely determined to make our annual trip to Cambodia the following March/April, both to visit our son and his wife and the kids at the orphanage who, after five years, had become such an important part of our lives. My fear was that we would struggle to keep him hydrated in the heat and humidity, as drinking was becoming a slower process.
I raised the subject of a PEG tube. He found the mere thought abhorrent and flatly refused to discuss the idea. Even Fred and the DMO were unable to convince him of the merits of a tube for fluids. I didn't want to pressure him, but I also wanted to know he would be safe on holidays. The very next issue of the MND support group newsletter featured articles and photos from members who had had PEG surgery, all speaking positively about the benefits.
After digesting the articles, Al began asking questions and agreed to the procedure on the express understanding that he was in control and when he refused fluids, his wishes would be respected. About this time he also decided it was time to sign the papers for the Natural Death Act in the NT and the corresponding papers for South Australia. This was done at home in Ti Tree with our DMO, Fred and the local police officer as witness.
In late November, twenty-four hours before he was due for admission to Alice Springs hospital for the surgery, Allen was hit with a sudden viral upper respiratory tract infection. His admission went ahead after our DMO conferred with the surgical registrar, the plan being to commence antibiotics while surgery was postponed for a day or so. Then, disaster! The night before his scheduled surgery Allen suffered a sudden aspiration. Surgery was again delayed and we found ourselves in a catch-22. Anaesthesia now posed a very real risk, but equally risky was delaying surgery, as oral fluids were now an added danger.
Allen now looked dreadfully ill, and for the first time in his illness I felt very afraid. Suddenly we were no longer preparing for Cambodia in March; we just wanted to get to Christmas.
Surgery was rescheduled, and recovery was slow. Allen was deteriorating rapidly. He was in pain, tired and nauseated. I had a divan in his hospital room so I could be with him for twenty-four-hour assistance. Fred and the pal care team visited us daily, often twice a day; their emotional support was incredible. After nearly a month in hospital we finally flew to Adelaide for Christmas with all the family. Allen had the joy of holding his first grandchild all the way from Cambodia.
On Boxing Day he was more concerned with the tsunami victims than his own health and needs, and then on New Year's Day we flew back to Alice Springs with our daughter-in-law and grandson, and drove to Ti Tree. I gave a month's notice at work. On 30 January – my fifty-fifth birthday – exactly one year on from diagnosis, we moved to our newly completed cottage on the Yorke Peninsula in South Australia. Fred and our wonderful pal care team from Alice Springs had made contact with community health on Southern Yorke Peninsula, and everything we needed was waiting for us. The new team stepped in for a seamless transition.
Allen passed away at home ten weeks later surrounded by his family.
About two and a half years later, lying in bed one night, I suddenly realised how fortunate we had been to be where we were at the time of diagnosis. In the bush the terrain is flat and the buildings are all single so no stairs. There was no driving for doctor's appointments and no parking worries.
If we had still been living in Adelaide, we would have been in our upstairs apartment with stairs. I could not have continued working; I would have been afraid to leave Allen at home and we would never have been able to build our beach cottage, Allen's lifelong dream. In fact it is impossible for me to imagine what life would have been like.
For twelve months we had a multidisciplinary allied health team involved in our lives. The various members worked cohesively, communicating closely with us and each other. They felt more like friends than health team members. Allen and I were involved in all decision making with them and we always felt in command of our life.
Friends often asked how we were managing in the bush, and our answer was that we received better and more personal care than we would have in the city. We had support in the physical sense, but, just as importantly, we had emotional support. We received truly holistic care, and could not have wished for more.
Sue Leverton, registered nurse (remote)
Postscript: Sue asked that this story be dedicated to Allen and their children, as well as the wonderful people in Central Australia Remote Health and Southern Yorke Peninsula Community Health, South Australia.
## Consideration
KIMBERLEY REGION, WESTERN AUSTRALIA
During corroboree time on the station, the old house gardener came up from the camp to tell me that one old man from Nicholson was 'a bit short of wind'. I asked that he be brought up to the big house, but the gardener asked me to go to the camp. When I arrived, I looked at the old man and said to the gardener, 'I think he has run out of wind,' to which he answered, 'Youeye' (you right). When I inquired why he hadn't told me the old man had died, he replied, 'I didn't want to frighten you, missus.'
Helen Macarthur, Gordon Downs Station
Adapted extract from 'Helen Macarthur, Gordon Downs Station', courtesy of the Kimberley Nurses History Group publication Boughsheds, Boabs and Bandages: Stories of Nursing in the Kimberley
## Destiny
NORTH QUEENSLAND
The lady came into the emergency department. Cancer had ravaged her body for two years and she was very sick. She told me that if I took her naso-gastric tube out, it would never go in again. I felt a strong connection with this lady. I do that with people; make connections. It helps me to win the trust of my patients and do my job better. When I read her chart and saw her address, I knew somehow, one day, I would visit this place. She was being admitted and that was the end of it.
Shortly after, I was called in for a night shift on medical ward and during handover I was surprised to hear this lady was still a patient. She was not my patient but I felt compelled to talk to her, to somehow reach out. I read her chart during the night and in the morning, I made an excuse to go in her room and talk to her. She didn't remember me and wasn't particularly friendly. I said goodbye and went home.
A few weeks later, my sister rang me. She is also a nurse and had heard on the grapevine about a job out on an isolated cattle property. We both wanted to do remote nursing but had families to think about and had never been in a situation to have a go. She said that there was a job looking after a lady who was dying and wanted to stay at home. I knew instinctively that it was my lady. I said to her, 'I already know this lady,' and she asked, 'How could you?' I told her that I just knew that I had a destiny with this person and started to tell her the story. She told me that I was wrong because the lady was much older than mine. I interrupted her because I was so certain and I told her the name of the property. She was astounded and asked me how I knew, but I had no answer. She said, 'You are going to take this job, aren't you.'
I rang the lady from the Frontier Services program who was handling the process of looking for a nurse and inquired about the job. I was told that she had a large and supportive network of family and friends already there but they needed a carer on hand to support them. I told them that I would think about it.
At the time, I was an endorsed enrolled nurse and had always been able to pass the buck to the senior nurse when the going got tough. As I reflected on the implications of this unique opportunity, I wondered if I could cope emotionally with this life and death on my own, way out there on an isolated property with no senior nurse to back me up. I would have to leave my husband and children, who are my rocks. Would I be able to be the nurse that this family needed me to be? Suddenly, I thought about my sisters and I prayed that someone would be there if this was one of them, so I agreed to do it.
Frontier Services told me I would be employed as a carer, not a nurse, and asked me how much I wanted to be paid; I felt compelled to tell them I would accept whatever they were offering. My husband gently chastised me for that but I felt driven to do this. As always, he respected my wishes and trusted that I would make the right decision. So it was settled; I would be going in a few days.
Now my mind went into overdrive: What if she had a big bleed? Take a reality check! You are going to help her to die, not save her life! Within days I would be off to the unknown. I notified my boss at the local hospital where I was employed casually that I would be unavailable for an unknown amount of time. I had a session with the doctor who would be my only contact with the medical world via two-way radio. She assured me that I would be fine, hadn't I been a nurse for nearly thirty years? Of course I would be fine, I kept telling myself.
The lady from Frontier Services, who was taking me part of the way, asked me if I would have a problem doing the last part of the journey on a helicopter. I love flying and immediately visualised a helicopter in the movies with all the army guys bravely jumping out of it. This sounded very exciting and I enthusiastically declared, 'I would love it!'
The big day came and off we went. After driving for a few hours we arrived at an airport where we were met with what I thought was a motorbike with a glass bubble on it. Oh no, this was it? Where was my big exciting helicopter? I was going for a ride in a mustering chopper; it didn't even have doors! Be cool, be brave, you can do this, just act nonchalant. What were they saying? I couldn't take my belongings, there wasn't room! Great!
They asked if I would mind carrying flowers on my lap for my lady. 'No worries,' I said. Lucky I love flowers! So there I was, sitting in a little bubble with a great big bunch of flowers between my legs and about to trust some stranger with my life. The 'stranger' jumped in beside me. Oh no, this couldn't be happening, the pilot looks about sixteen. He informed me that he was my pilot and I'd better be prepared as there was a storm ahead. Bloody wonderful.
I jokingly asked him, 'You do have a licence to fly this thing, don't you?' He readily admitted that he did; that it was easy to get one in just six weeks and no, he wasn't only sixteen, he was eighteen! Great stuff! I was saying my prayers that I wouldn't break the seat by holding on so hard. My legs were tightly clamped together; at least the flowers weren't going anywhere.
As we ascended above the cows and trees, my pilot keenly offered to take me for a detour over a mine site for a look. Obviously this young man was completely oblivious to my anxiety levels! I suggested that we bypass this excursion and leave it for another day when it was fine.
On arrival at the station, we were met by a group of family members who were keen to get me settled in. My pilot generously returned later with my luggage. I was already homesick and I hadn't even seen my patient yet.
The family's patriarch and his wife and family lived in one house and my lady lived across the paddock in the old house. I was to stay with her and her friend who had come from down south to spend her last days with her. It was extremely hot; the house was old but fine. The only water was in a tank and needed to be carried in in buckets and there were lots of bugs and creepy crawlies. What was I thinking? I wondered. I decided I was going to make the best of this and nothing was going to stand in my way.
I quickly assessed the patient and realised that she had deteriorated dramatically since our last encounter a month before. There was no weight left on her and she was not able to keep anything down. I had been told that she did not want to take morphine; I had weighed up the options with the consulting doctor before leaving. I had it with me but would not use it unless absolutely necessary. It had been made quite clear to the patient and family that if she chose to have intravenous fluids, she would have to go into hospital. There would be no lifesaving mercy flights; she was going to die.
She was such a strong character who had lived life to the full and was not going to go easily. She was an only girl who worked alongside her brothers on the property. Her friend was amazing and I hoped that my friendships were this strong. She would do whatever my lady asked of her, which included diary keeping. My lady kept a diary on a daily basis, which her friend kept right up to hours before her death. How strong was this woman who felt it was so important to still be in control right up to the very end? She noticed any single thing out of place, right down to weeds outside in the house yard.
I had brought my aromatherapy oils and decided that massage would be the most therapeutic approach. So began the first of my twelve days out there.
Day two commenced with the power going down and it would stay out for two days, which meant no fans, etc. It also meant no two-way radio, my only connection to the real world. Wow! Now I really was in culture shock.
I set up a stretcher beside my lady so that she could just tap me if she needed me. We spent our days massaging from head to toe, in silence most of the time. She started dreaming about swimming in the river though she admitted that she had never been fond of swimming. I figured that it was because of her body's need for fluids.
I asked her brothers if there was any way we could give her a soak. Before long, I was called outside and lo and behold a bathtub had appeared. We filled it up with the hose and prepared for the big plunge. One of her brothers carried her down the stairs. This was heaven for her, or close to it, and I thought to myself, Why didn't I think of this sooner? It quickly developed into a ritual and each day we would spend time with her laying in the tub spotting the weeds and me removing them.
One day she announced that she felt like some Coca-Cola to drink, though she had apparently never liked it in her life. We didn't have any Coke on the property and were now faced with a challenge to come up with some. Her brother got on the two-way and asked if anyone on the neighbouring property could share a can or two. Within hours, from out of the heavens came a carton of Coke; the chopper guys heard the call and took a trip to town, God bless them. My next challenge was to attempt to make jelly with Coke. That is not easy to do and wasn't very successful but I was prepared to try anything to keep up the pretence that she was still eating.
As the days and nights wore on, she became almost lifeless before my eyes and we seemed to have melded days and nights together. We had a spray pump bottle of water with which we would regularly hydrate her externally. The anti-emetics failed eventually and she could keep nothing down. I was feeling so helpless and ineffective.
I wished I had of known her before she became ill as she was an amazing person; such strength. After ten days, she said to me, 'I can't do this any more.' It was as if she'd always felt she had to be strong and not give in or appear weak. I rang the doctor and told them that I felt cruel not doing something else for her. We discussed morphine and decided to start small doses to ease her burden. I told her that I needed to give her something to take her hypersensitivity away. She had become super-sensitive to even the touch of a mosquito. She didn't ask what it was so I took that as consent and gave her the first dose. She stopped taking all oral fluids and the vomiting finally stopped. I don't think there was anything left.
Her brothers asked me to have a meeting with them to discuss what else we could do to make her more comfortable. It was decided to ask the doctor if we could increase the morphine order, which was a minimum dose. She never asked what I gave her, but I'm sure she knew. That night, she kept drifting in and out until after midnight when I finally crashed beside her. At 0200 hours I awoke to her calling, 'Sandy, Sandy, wake up, we've got a big day ahead so you had better spray me down and you might need it too.' I asked her why. What was the big day about? She just looked at me and said, 'I am going to die today, aren't I?' I told her that her time was near but I couldn't promise anything.
Then she got me to wake her friend. She seemed adamant that she had to get everything in order. The diary came out and was updated. By 0400 hours she started ringing her friends and thanking them for their friendship and support. I was in tears by this stage. By 1000 hours, I told her brother that the end wouldn't be far away. I had rung the doctor and was about to give her another dose of morphine. Her body was showing all the signs of death, I could almost smell it around me, but was strangely calm.
Her life was draining away before our eyes. Her other brothers arrived and they all gathered around her to say their last goodbyes, then left for the big house. So there we were; just her, her friend, her sister-in-law and me. She drifted off while we sat talking to her and holding her hands. A flock of cockatoos flew over, all shrieking loudly, and I'm sure she flew off with them.
I went over to the big house to help make arrangements. While her spirit stayed there, her body had to be taken into town for burial. The family had hired a chopper for this purpose. I went back over and we dressed her in her full station working clothes and waited for her final ride. Once her body was onboard, I climbed in the back seat and looked out over the land. Her brother came and placed a bunch of wildflowers on her and we said our goodbyes. The trip into town was much quicker in the big chopper but strangely I don't remember much about it.
My mother and grandmother were both nurses and I had always wanted to do remote nursing; this experience made me go for it. In 2001, I put in an application and was accepted into a Bachelor of Nursing at the James Cook University campus in Mount Isa. For my grad year I went to Normanton and Mornington Island. On return, I commenced a post-grad Cert in Advanced Surgical Nursing followed by Advanced Physiology.
All these years later, I still am deeply touched by this lady I had cared for and what she taught me about myself and life and death. Every time I hear cockies fly over, I think how honoured I am to have shared her journey.
Sandy Hanson, registered nurse, lecturer
## Life's End
KALTUKATJARA (DOCKER RIVER), NORTHERN TERRITORY
Palliative care in a remote Aboriginal community setting is one of the most rewarding areas of nursing. Often, English is the third, fourth or even fifth language of most residents. The non-Aboriginal RAN is in the minority and generally has limited understanding of the rituals associated with life ending.
One of our most senior women had refused dialysis and wanted to 'finish up' (die) in her own country. She had many medical problems, including uncontrolled diabetes and cardiac compromise. She caused the RAN much grief with deterioration in her health and 'non-compliance' with recommended treatment over many years. However, she lived with her husband, she cared for grandchildren, nieces and nephews and fostered one little girl from babyhood. She enjoyed going hunting and collecting traditional bush foods. She was pivotal to many traditional ceremonies and had great authority in the community.
Although 'non-compliant' with medicines and western treatment, she used Aboriginal traditional medicines and saw the traditional healers (ngangkaris). She was always willing to talk to the RAN; sometimes this involved a search around the community to locate her, and she could always explain why she hadn't done what we wanted of her. Sometimes she 'forgot', other times she was busy or had lost the medicines or had been away hunting or visiting in other communities. Her life was busy and active despite her worsening health.
As time went by, her diabetes worsened and her kidneys began to fail. She had said several times over her last two years that she did not want to go to town for dialysis – she had seen her sister die in town while on dialysis and she did not want to do the same thing. In her last two months she was bedridden and became more and more bloated with fluid. Her husband continued to care for her, hunting food and cooking it while her foster daughter continued to sleep in the same bed with her. Extended family came from many communities to sit with her and she had both the television and phone within reach.
There was only one RAN caring for a community of approximately 300 people so she did not receive daily visits from health professionals. She had never been particularly fastidious about her personal hygiene, having been born in the bush and lived in wurlies most of her life with minimal access to water. She had a house to live in only in the last five years of her life. The RAN visited once a week to help give her a good wash and make sure she was as comfortable as possible. She was so bloated with fluid it was impossible to turn her; however, if bed sores had developed she did not suffer any pain from them. In her last days she sank into a coma and family came to tell the RAN she was now sleeping. Visits were increased to daily, mostly to reassure the family and to check she was still not in pain. On her last day, the RAN told family that her respiratory pattern indicated that it probably wouldn't be long now. At 6 p.m., a senior community man came to tell the RAN she had passed away.
She had been wrapped in her blankets and family and community members were filing through the house to touch her and express their sorrow. When all had done so, the RAN was asked to take her away, so she was zipped into a body bag and six strong community members helped transport her to the makeshift cool room used as a morgue. Family moved out of the house; it was too sad to remain with all its associated memories of the deceased. Her funeral was some weeks later and attended by many people.
Palliative care revolves around making people comfort-able at the end of their life. This woman and many others did not receive daily visits from a nurse for nutritional, hygiene or medication management. Families were the primary care givers for nutrition and hygiene. The RANs provided pain management, using syringe drivers supplied by the palliative care unit or inserting a butterfly needle and giving subcutaneous morphine as often as they thought necessary.
Families were reassured by the interest the RANs took in them and their dying relative, as much as by the health care provided. Dying family members remained in their own bedding, surrounded by the sounds and activities they had experienced all their lives and knowing they were still part of the family unit. Families saw and had control over what happened to their relative and were able to move through rituals of grieving without the barriers of western medical care.
Lyn Byers, midwife, nurse practitioner (remote)
## The Funeral
NORTHERN TERRITORY
A chilling wail rang out through the community, awakening sleepers. It rose from a cavern of human grief and drowned the western music of the last grog revellers. The cry was heralded by the piccaninny light as it touched the scorched earth.
Women roused from sleep responded quickly and hurried to position themselves with their dogs in small groups behind the keening mourners.
Alarmed and with a thumping heart, I stepped out into the morning light and headed towards the wailing sorry group. As I neared the camp Who, what, when? raced through my mind; I captured a vision of Napanangka sitting in the red sand, tearing at her curly hair and striking her head. The smoke from her camp fire wafted around her head, creating a surreal halo.
I dropped to the ground beside her, taking her hand in mine.
'Who?' I asked.
She whispered, 'My sister, my sister.'
Suddenly I was swamped by a feeling of nauseating, gut-churning guilt. I recalled two weeks earlier that I had met Kumanjay in town. She was not her usual quiet self. She was drunk, sleeping rough, dirty and out of control. She wanted me to bring her home to the community. I wouldn't do it as she was drunk and disorderly.
The story unfolded that Kumanjay was found unconscious in the street. After a week in hospital she was ready for discharge on the day she died. The hospital doctor explained the cause of death to family members. They did not believe his white fella medical explanations.
Another patient saw a tall man at the end of Kumanjay's bed the night before she died. The tall man is a harbinger of death. The community knew that Kumanjay had been sung.
Later that day, Napanangka joined me in the clinic. She quickly depleted my supply of sterile scissors as she hacked at her hair until she resembled a porcupine. I followed behind her sweeping up her black locks. She asked me to burn them with the clinic rubbish to prevent any sorcerer finding the hair.
Following this ritual Napanangka said it was time to visit Kumanjay's partner of twelve years, Boris, and tell him of her death. She asked me to drive her out to his camp as her sister was a poison relative to her husband, and even in death he could not be involved in any way. Not even to attend the funeral. I reluctantly agreed to her request, closed the clinic and we left.
Boris was a Vietnam vet who was rumoured to have post-traumatic stress. He camped on a remote desert gold lease which was protected by a legendary pack of savage dogs. On arrival at the lease, we were greeted by the baying pack.
Napanangka now told me that I had to tell Boris the news because it would not be proper for her culturally.
'What, Napanangka, that's a cop-out!' I said. 'You always drop the hard stuff on me claiming cultural immunity!'
Five ugly dogs snapped at the troopy wheels as we alighted. Napanangka headed off to the hut, leaving me standing alone sweating and tasting my terror. She looked over her shoulder and called me to come and ignore the dogs. I followed meekly. When we entered the hut, Napanangka stood in contemplation and then suddenly commenced spinning in circles, a black dervish, shouting loudly 'She's here. I feel her spirit,' while she raked at her scalp and tore at her hastily shorn hair.
I couldn't take my eyes off the guns stacked in the corner! A mental montage flashed through my mind. Take one Vietnam vet, add post-traumatic stress, rum, grief, anger, mix with my fear and stir with a gun!
Napanangka's voice cut through my thoughts and awakened Boris from his rum haze. His dogs barked and excitedly danced around Napanangka's spinning feet. After thirty years' abstinence I craved a cigarette, wished I could phone a friend!
Boris, a sad, toothless, lost soul of a man, stirred in his chair and looked up. He squinted, stared at me and coughed. After what seemed like an eternity he recognised me. He stood and clutched the table demanding to know, 'What's wrong?!' Thoughts tumbled through my mind as I tried to speak.
What's wrong, I thought, Jesus, Mary and Joseph, could we could just start with the guns!
Napanangka continued to spin out of control, crying out in language. She was haunted by her sister's spirit and its whispers. My hair stood on end as she hit a bed and finally collapsed on the floor keening and mumbling to herself. Between tears and wails she apportioned blame; identified guilty parties who would receive payback.
The words dead, passed away, last night, so sorry echoed around the hut. Was that really my voice I was hearing?
The words enveloped me as Boris roared. He swayed as he stood up and hurled his pannikin, striking the wall. He railed and screamed blame at me, family, Napanangka and others for his loss. When he was spent, he sat down and commenced sobbing loudly. My eyes never moved from the malevolent black gun barrels.
Finally fear and exhaustion overwhelmed me. I felt numb and became deaf to grief and keening. Taking deep breaths, I stumbled outside. Slowly I dug my fingers into the hot, red sand as crows arked noisily overhead in a bolt blue sky. The dogs joined me and sniffed as we eyeballed each other suspiciously.
Feeling that I had finally run out of psychic puff and had nothing left to give, I asked myself, was this a beginning or an end?
Napanangka woke me at 0600 by banging loudly on my door. She was unkempt and still wearing her two-week-old sorry camp clothes. She asked quietly for money to buy new black and white funeral clothes. I refused and she left, leaving me feeling guilty once more.
Arriving at the Australian Inland Mission chapel, I found it locked. The hearse was parked outside but no-one could locate the chapel key. Napanangka arrived resplendent in black and white with her blouse tag fluttering in the hot wind. She asked me to sit with her in the family pew between her and Boris.
Mourners stood under the solitary tree and shuffled patiently in the dusty heat. Heads had melted off the plastic flowers that adorned the coffin. Finally the key was found and we followed the coffin into the stifling chapel.
The service was well underway when an uninvited drunken, wailing woman staggered through the chapel side door and headed for the coffin. She launched herself towards the coffin and threw herself onto it and commenced rubbing her pendulous breasts up and down the length of the coffin lid.
To my astonishment neither mourners nor the pastor in the chapel stirred in protest. Instead I heard a collective sucking in of breath as the coffin and stand rocked and swayed perilously under her drunken weight. The only audible response was a deep growl from my dog, Wungadear, lying under the pew.
Her impromptu performance continued until she was joined by her drunken companion, who called to her in language, as he staggered through the side door. Suddenly she halted her wailing and breast rubbing, looked at the mourners with a bewildered expression and then unsteadily joined her companion. It was a wordless leaving, without their flies, which remained in the chapel, joining the larger mob buzzing round mourners' heads. The silence in the chapel was broken as the organist struck up a fractured version of 'Rock of Ages' followed by a swell of voices.
The colourful cortége of resilient desert Falcons and government four-wheel drives proceeded uneventfully to the nearby cemetery. Standing at the graveside, tears started to build up in my eyes. The emotional culmination of the past two weeks hit home. My sadness was abruptly broken by a strong elbow pushing me towards the grave edge; I was alarmed at first, until family members signed they wanted me to cast the first handful of red earth into the grave.
It landed with a dull thud and was rapidly followed by black hands in unison. The male cousin brothers shared their shovels and quickly filled the grave. No-one seemed to mind when Wungadear sprayed on the red mound adorned with artificial flowers.
Then, as if by silent command, the family, cousin brothers and mourners stopped keening, turned as a winged flock and faded as one. Napanangka and I stood quietly for a while then followed in their tracks.
There was no wake to follow with cucumber sangas and tea, or a piss-up at the local pub. I reflected how different black fella/white fella funerals were. No red-faced white fellas, sweating in tight suits, feigning care and directing mourners to sign a memorial book. Why would they need a book with a living memory that goes back 60 000 years?
Later that afternoon Napanangka and I travelled back in silence along the rough track to the community, each of us lost in our own wordless thoughts. Contemplating the number of clapped-out cars sitting majestically beside the road, displaying their endurance and wounds, impervious to desert and time, I wondered if they were symbolic of remote area nurses!
Napanangka and Wungadear slept soundly while I opened and closed numerous gates. As the sun dropped behind red dunes, we arrived in the cool of the evening to a quiet, deserted community.
Marcel Corinne Campbell, registered nurse (remote)
# chapter nine
FUTURE PATHWAYS
Forging their way forward, women and men, both older and younger, are creating pathways to ensure both their professional development and ongoing nursing services in the changing landscape of rural and remote Australia.
## Cultivating Community Health
REMOTE AUSTRALIA
I have been intrigued with cross-cultural issues since my early student nursing days, studying Medical Anthropology in Canada, way back in the late '70s. This cultural intrigue, particularly relating to maternal and child health, took me to the UK to complete a Diploma in Midwifery and eventually, to the far reaches of the Arctic (the North West Territories of Canada) in 1988 and the Australian outback (Northern Territory, East Arnhem Land) in the early 1990s.
I feel that community health is where health begins for any cultural group. Consequently, I have 'armed' myself with some of the necessary bits and pieces to do what I feel is my job as a remote area nurse (RAN) and midwife, but an RAN's learning doesn't stop. I have a list a mile long of the courses that I would like to take, including the CRANAplus Remote Emergency Care course, because immediate emergency care knowledge and confidence can make or break a good RAN and I do like sleeping peacefully at night when on call.
As my daughter grew up, I spent time working as an agency hospital and community-based midwife and nurse in various capacities: community liaison, hospital and community midwifery; sexual and reproductive health; educator; community nurse and; of course, as an RAN.
As you can imagine, each cultural group that I had the joy and honour of working with was so very different in so many ways: caring for the needs of Indigenous street kids in downtown Brisbane is very different from the work in Fort McPherson in Canada, Milingimbi in the Northern Territory, Oak Valley in South Australia or Cherbourg in Queensland.
All have their differences and individual challenges. Despite some obvious similarities, picking wild berries in northern Canada with the women and children while the men stood guard with an eye open for hungry bears is very different from hunting for mangrove worms and crabs in East Arnhem Land while keeping an eye out for hungry crocodiles. However, on reflection, I have realised that the basic needs of all communities are the same: we all share the need to eat good food to keep us strong and the need to remain safe in our environment.
So what role does a remote area nurse play in facilitating this? Especially in communities that are struggling with cultural change? I have asked myself that question a million times and the answer I sought wasn't in the books I read or the teachers and 'wise ones' that I studied under. It isn't so much about giving out medicine or doing health checks. It also isn't about doing 'on call' or handing out pamphlets that talk about well women screening. And it isn't about telling a community how they should 'do it'.
It's in the sharing and caring; the day-to-day 'stuff'. It's caring about a mother who is struggling to feed her babies good tucker or who lives in isolation from her family when her husband abandons her. It's caring about a young man who knows he'll probably never be a rock star or make enough money to buy that fancy car he sees driving through the city streets on TV. It's about caring for that young sick child who is so afraid when she sees you holding that needle with penicillin in it.
It's in the compassion, the comradeship, the feeling of being part of a bigger whole; sharing an orange with the little kid with big eyes when you're on your lunch break. It's in stopping long enough in your busy day to share a laugh with the women who are clustered around the health clinic waiting to see the doctor or child health nurse. It's in the tears that are shed when a family is in sorry business for a grandmother who passes away far from her home and people who love her.
It's about 'both way' learning; about watching and being with people in their environment and learning about how they 'do it'. It's about attending ceremonies if appropriate and going hunting for bush foods. It's about learning about bush medicine (and using it). It's about listening to language and trying out a few words, then using those words and adding to them when you care for the people.
Life as an RAN is full; rarely is there a dull moment and you can get really tired and downhearted. I like to take a break every once in a while just to get a feeling of self; to hang out with my family and maybe have a soy latte at my favourite café. Sometimes I go on a retreat to re-establish who I am and what I want from life.
As an RAN, I also feel very strongly that it is important not to take myself too seriously. All I can do is my best at any given moment; I need to know my boundaries and on occasion, I need to laugh at my shortcomings. After all, laughter is the best medicine for any community in any culture.
Tere Garnons-Williams, remote area nurse and midwife
Tere Garnons-Williams' work as a remote area nurse has taken her from the wilds of northern Canada to the mangroves of Arnhem Land in the Northern Territory.
## Finding My Place
CENTRAL AUSTRALIA
I was working in Adelaide in the emergency department of a tertiary referral hospital. I was there for nearly seven years and I got burnt out. I didn't recognise it as I loved my job and thought everything was fine but my wife, Anita, saw the signs and wasn't going to put up with it. She said either I quit or she was leaving. Next day I signed up with an agency. I gradually worked further and further out of the metropolitan area and one day I was driving home listening to music and there was a song that came on about a bushman not being able to survive in the city, and I just burst into tears and realised I couldn't do this any more. I realised I had to get out of the city and back to the bush.
I grew up on the Eyre Peninsula and my intention was always to go to Adelaide, get an education and then go back to the country because so many people didn't go back but I always wanted to. That day in the traffic was my watershed moment so I started looking for jobs in the country. A position at Oodnadatta in the north of South Australia came up and so I uprooted my city-born wife and small daughters and moved them 1100 kilometres north into the desert. That was our first real taste of outback life. It was an amazing experience.
Making the transition was a bit challenging for Anita as she had had her own career path in Adelaide, but she did a nursing refresher course and then was able to get a job at the Coober Pedy Hospital 200 kilometres away. She went over there for two shifts a week, staying the night in between.
The most significant impact for me arriving in Oodnadatta was the realisation that I was completely unprepared for the work. I had thought because I worked in emergency I'd be able to handle anything but, in fact, emergency was only about five per cent of the work. The rest was primary health care and health promotion and I had no experience in either. I didn't know where to start so that's when I started my professional development. I went on to get a Master of Remote Health Practice and converted it into a Nurse Practitioner Masters and a Master of Remote Health Management. I really wanted to know how to do this job the best way that I could.
I started that study while I was at Oodnadatta, but then we got pregnant with our third child and Anita was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis (MS). We'd been advised not to give birth out in the bush so we moved in to Alice Springs for twelve months and then to Hermannsburg community, about an hour out of Alice. I started out there as one of the remote area nurses in the clinic and then within six months I was promoted to manager, a job I held for the next four years.
We'd always known we'd have to move into a bigger community as Anita's MS progressed, so we moved to Tennant Creek and I work as one of the team in the emergency department at the hospital. Anita is in a wheelchair now and so working in a team situation gives me the opportunity to keep working as well as provide Anita with the assistance she needs.
Ultimately, I would like to go back to remote area nursing. My dream job would be working as a nurse practitioner in a remote Aboriginal community. I like the sense of independence and autonomy that goes with that role and the opportunity not to be constrained by frustrating rules. You have broad guidelines to work in but within those broad guidelines there's a lot of area for exercising clinical judgement and that's very satisfying.
It's also the most money you can earn as a registered nurse in Australia; sometimes that's built on exorbitant amounts of overtime and that can be very wearing, but the money is a big drawcard and we can't pretend that it's not a factor. It is a part of the attraction.
Then there's the fact that it is community work and you'd probably find that people who work in community settings have higher levels of satisfaction with their work compared to people who work in hospital wards. I know that's certainly the case for me.
The thing is, when I started out as a nurse, I saw it as a step towards eventually doing medicine, but I made the choice to get married and have a family instead. Working as a nurse practitioner is a great compromise.
John Wright, registered nurse (remote)
## Training Up
ALICE SPRINGS, NORTHERN TERRITORY
As the Aboriginal support coordinator for CRANAplus, I go to the communities and talk to the elders about new nurses getting deployed there. I introduce the nurse to the elders and they'll give him/her the cultural awareness of the community they're in. I liaise between the workers and the elders. A lot of them are just there for a week or two from one of the agencies and then they go somewhere else. At the moment I work with nine communities in the Central Desert area of the Northern Territory.
I am also training as an Aboriginal health practitioner. I've been pushed by others to do my Cert IV so that I can facilitate some of the training programs like Remote Emergency Care and First Line Emergency Care, which incorporates Maternity Emergency Care and Advanced Emergency Support.
I live in Alice Springs but I was born in Victoria, at Echuca, and I'm a Yorta Yorta man. I've worked in the Central Desert area for a long time and get along well with everyone around there. There are not many male health workers out there and there is a big need so I'll work two or three days in the communities and facilitate the courses in between. I'll go where I'm needed.
The biggest challenges for men are diabetes and renal, same as the women. I've seen blokes lose limbs because they haven't had help with their medication and stuff. It's just a matter of talking to them and telling them this will help you get better and then make sure they take it.
One of the things I'll do is push young people to do the Batchelor (Batchelor Institute of Indigenous Tertiary Education, about an hour south of Darwin) courses like I'm doing and become Aboriginal health practitioners. Especially the young males, who are running around with nothing to do. With national registration, that bit of paper will give them a chance at a job wherever they are. Most of the young people have only done primary school education; they don't get to high school because most of the communities don't have high school, so they can't get into other training. Health is one of the things they can get into and doing Cert IV gives them a chance to go up the ladder. In the course I'm in now, there are three men and one of them is going to go on and train in nursing. There are ten women in the course as well.
I'm really enjoying my job and the training. I did some clinical practice with Jo Appo (a well-experienced Aboriginal clinical health practitioner) recently. A young fellow came in with scabies and she said, 'Well, go on, you deal with it,' and so I told him what I was going to do and did it. It was great. Being a health worker is something you can do for as long as you like so it's a good thing to be doing.
Lenny Cooper, Aboriginal health practitioner and Aboriginal Support Coordinator for CRANAplus
## Now They See
TENNANT CREEK, NORTHERN TERRITORY
When I started working as the Barkly Regional Eye Health Coordinator for Anyinginyi Health Aboriginal Corporation in 2006, many Aboriginal people in Tennant Creek did not expect to be able to see well as they aged. In some cases, they expected to lose their eyesight completely.
There had not been an Eye Coordinator for a year, visits from optometrists were not frequent and many people just couldn't afford to buy glasses. Now we have a one-stop shop for eye care thanks to a partnership with an eye specialist, Dr Henderson, who has been coming to Tennant Creek for the last twelve years, the Brien Holden Vision Institute (BHVI), OPSM, Tennant Creek Hospital, the Royal Flying Doctor Service, Fred Hollows Foundation and Alice Springs Hospital.
Back in 2006, I had no car, no permanent clinic and no help. Now I have a car, a permanent clinic and an assistant. Dr Henderson comes here from Alice Springs every two months for four days. On one of those days he operates on all sorts of eye conditions, including cataracts, entropions (the eyelid folds inward causing the lashes to rub against the cornea) and pterygia (a membrane that invades the cornea). He is known for not only his medical and surgical skills but also his compassion and empathy with all patients.
We have had so many successes as a result of this collaborative initiative. For instance, one of our senior Aboriginal ladies had been a very good hunter in her younger days but due to cataracts, she suffered loss of vision in her one good eye and had to be cared for by her family. With a lot of talking and the help of others, an appointment was made and she was quickly referred to Dr Henderson. He operated on her on a Tuesday, the pad came off the eye on the Wednesday and she went hunting and caught four goannas on a Saturday. The next week she caught four echidnas.
Many Aboriginal people here continue to maintain many traditional ways, including hunting and using bush medicines. These aspects of their lives are only improved with better sight.
I was fortunate, after I took on the role, to hear about BHVI, which provides easily accessible optometrists. The institute's involvement in Tennant Creek has increased visits from optometrists fourteen-fold. They also provided subsidised glasses, a service now taken over by the Fred Hollows Foundation. This system has allowed people to pay for glasses out of Centrelink payments or wages, meaning affordable glasses for all.
It has been wonderful to be involved in helping to create this one-stop shop which provides a cohesive, safe delivery of eye care. We see babies, children, teenagers, young adults and those of more senior years. We are very happy that we have been part of helping Aboriginal artists to keep doing their outstanding work. People not only come to us for help, but they are also referred to us by doctors, nurses, AHWs, other Aboriginal people and family members.
One gentleman who had cataracts in both eyes needed to be cared for by two people. Four months after he had his operation, I could not find him for his next check. I was delighted to find that he was no longer housebound and was travelling the country seeing family and doing what he wanted.
The changes in some people's lives have been huge.
Maree O'Hara, registered nurse and coordinator, Barkly Regional Eye Health
## Learning the Ropes
UTOPIA, NORTHERN TERRITORY
For a second-year student nurse I don't think you can get a more culturally invigorating clinical placement than going out on a remote prac. Every sense is awakened and your clinical skills are pushed to new limits. Up until now my clinical nursing experience was bound to large metropolitan hospitals. Going to the Urapuntja Health Service (UHS) in Utopia, about 280 kilometres north-east of Alice Springs, was both eye-opening and refreshing.
Set up in the 1970s on the decentralised community model, UHS is a community-controlled Aboriginal medical service. Monday to Thursday we would go with the nurses and sometimes a doctor or an Aboriginal health worker, out over the dirt roads to the different communities in the area.
It was such beautiful country with wild flowers and desert shrubs contrasting brilliantly with the bright-red soil. They had a lot of rain last season so the desert was blooming and was full of life.
When we arrived at an outstation we would set up a little clinic out the back of the four-wheeled drive. It was quite well equipped with medication boxes, tables, chairs, computers and supplies. People would come to get a health check, their medications or anything else they needed. I was totally blown away by this different take on health care. It was community and patient centred, and the nurses all had their own ways of connecting with their clients. It was great to see the mix of skills and life experience that brings people to this kind of nursing.
Being out in the desert really emphasised what a diverse and rewarding profession nursing is. We were able to see how another culture lived; their way of life and how health and illness impacted on the community. It was a real privilege to see and be included. All the staff at Urapuntja promoted a holistic approach to health care, which encouraged local healing remedies such as bush medicine coupled with the western biomedical approach.
The biggest challenge that I found was the language barrier; I wasn't expecting it to be so vast. I was impressed and inspired by how the health professionals were able to give comprehensive and quality care despite the language difficulties. They used basic words and gestures to explain what was happening to their bodies and to communicate what medical intervention needed to happen.
This experience has changed my view on health care delivery in Australia. It has reinforced how vital holistic care is and how nurses can influence the lives of so many people across the country. I was very lucky to have a sneak peek at what it is like to be a remote area nurse and it has definitely inspired me to pursue future education pathways that will allow me to explore this great, wide country using my nursing skills.
Ely Taylor, student nurse, Emerging Nurse Leader Program
## Stock Camp Nurse
NORTH-WEST QUEENSLAND
My love for north-west Queensland began when I worked in the stock camp of Miranda Downs, a cattle station near Normanton. I've heard people slander romantic stories of the outback; however, nothing could be further from the truth in my experience.
Each morning as we headed out in the horse truck, I recall staring out the window, dreamily contemplating the day ahead and about working shoulder to shoulder with the rest of the crew. The days were full of banter, bulls and bullshit and I was surrounded by a team that worked like a well-oiled machine. Whether it all went right or all went wrong, or somewhere in between, we'd climb back into the truck at the end of the day sitting shoulder to shoulder again as the sun dropped down. Does it get more romantic than that?
Apparently it does. I met my fiancé Quinton Jurd that year at Miranda Downs. He currently runs the stock camp on another cattle station three hours north of Mount Isa. The crew in the stock camp undertake all the cattle mustering for the station throughout the dry months of the year. I try to visit as often as possible.
For the last three years, I have been studying in Melbourne to complete my Bachelor of Nursing at Australian Catholic Uni. Each time I journey to north-west Queensland, I feel as though I am returning home. As such, I organised to complete my final nursing placement in Mount Isa.
The Mount Isa hospital draws patients from a radius of 300 000 square kilometres. Last year, I was fortunate to be placed on the surgical ward of the hospital for a five-week prac for my final year of nursing. The Mount Isa Centre for Rural and Remote Health provided orientation and cultural awareness training before I began placement on the surgical ward.
The fly-in-fly-out mining workforce, backpackers and grey nomads make the provision of health care increasingly complex as many travel into the region from interstate, and therefore, request interstate transfers.
I was shocked at how often people required transfers to Townsville or to return to their home town. Another challenge involved people getting transfers in from an outlying community then not presenting to the hospital for their admission or their appointment.
I had an incredibly positive experience and was able to achieve all of my placement goals. Overall, it was the staff on the ward that ensured I looked forward to placement every day. I was fortunate to have been accepted into the 2013 North West Health Service graduate nurse program and I am loving both my job and being back in the area full-time.
Balancing my life as a nurse with my other life out in the stock camp with Quinton provides me with the best possible lifestyle. We are both passionate about our careers and envisage living and working in remote Australia for the foreseeable future. We have dreams of travelling across the country, the ringer and the nurse!
Catherine Ryan, registered nurse (a member of the Emerging Nurse Leader Program)
Catherine Ryan balances her dedication to nursing with her home life on a stock camp in north-west Queensland.
# Acknowledgements
The plan for this book was to publish a collection of stories either from or about rural and remote nurses and to raise some money for a worthy cause. Frontier Services was chosen as the worthy recipient in acknowledgement of their 100 years of service to inland Australia.
It was publisher Andrea McNamara who got the ball rolling for this project. Thank you for asking me to edit this book, Andrea – it's an opportunity for which I will be forever grateful. One of the first conversations I had with her was about my concern that nurses would be reluctant and/or too busy to write their stories, assuming I could track down enough of them in the first place. My networks around the outback are pretty good but I'd never have managed this without Anne-Marie Bourchers and Geri Malone from CRANAplus. Anne-Marie, in particular, promoted the call for stories through their magazine, encouraged everyone she knew to participate and made it possible for me to attend the 2012 CRANAplus conference in Cairns, a captive audience of rural and remote nurses from all around Australia. Her grace in the face of my endless requests for contact details was remarkable.
I would also like to thank editor Adrian Potts – he has been a dream to work with and I hope we work together for long enough to become great friends! I must also extend my gratitude to editor Brooke Clark, and to editor Bridget Maidment, who first made contact with me about this project.
Finally, my heartfelt thanks go to the nurses who contributed their stories to this collection and to the people who wrote about the special nurses in their lives.
Thank you for sharing your stories.
# Frontier Services
The Australian Inland Mission (AIM) was established in 1912 by Rev. John Flynn. Having researched the needs of both Aboriginal and European inhabitants of the inland of Australia, on behalf of the Presbyterian Church of Australia, he was appointed Superintendent of the AIM and tasked with bringing appropriate medical and spiritual services to the outback.
In 1977 the AIM became known as Frontier Services. Between them, the first nursing sisters and patrol padres picked up the creation threads of Flynn's 'mantle of safety'. A complex invisible fabric of medical, spiritual, social, cultural and economic service provision, the 'mantle' has been stitched together with compassion, empathy, determination, dedication, guts and the sheer goodwill of all the people who have ever worked for or supported the work of the Australian Inland Mission/Frontier Services.
In recognition of their centenary in 2012, Penguin is delighted to contribute the royalties from Bush Nurses to Frontier Services.
# CRANAplus
The Council of Remote Area Nurses of Australia (CRANA) was formed in 1983 when 130 remote area nurses from across Australia came together in Alice Springs to put remote health issues on the national agenda. General concern about the poor health status of people who live in remote areas and the inequities, quality and accessibility in services available to these Australians was and remains the catalyst for action.
In 2008, members voted to extend membership to all remote health professionals and their supporters, reflecting the collaborative nature of remote area nursing, which works closely with other professions to meet the challenges of remote health. The name was then changed to CRANAplus to reflect the new broadened scope of the organisation.
The core business and sole focus of CRANAplus is to educate, support and advocate for all health professionals working in the remote sector of Australia.
crana.org.au
# Bush Support Services
Due to their isolation, be it geographic, social and/or environmental, remote area health workers face chronically high levels of occupational stress. These same workers also face increased chances of experiencing discrete traumatic events. The Bush Support Services (BSS) was established in 1997 and is currently funded by the Commonwealth Department of Health and Ageing and auspiced by CRANAplus. The BSS is staffed by eight highly trained and experienced psychologists, supported by two administrative staff.
Understanding that both Indigenous and non-Indigenous remote health workers have particular mental health needs, the BSS provides a free and confidential telephone counselling, debriefing and support service. In addition, BSS provides educational packages and outreaches to remote area workers by running fun activities such as a stress-buster competition and a knitting project.
Sometimes, it's just about having someone safe to off-load to, so if you're a remote health worker or the family of one and you feel like a chat, call Bush Support Services.
bss.crana.org.au
Phone counselling 1800 805391
Email counselling: scp@crana.org.au
MICHAEL JOSEPH
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ISBN: 978-1-74253-696-5
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\section{Introduction}
\label{intro}
The recent development in word embeddings, and their increasing capability to capture lexical semantics
has inspired the application of these methods to new tasks and introduced new challenges.
The diachronic analysis of language is one of such linguistic tasks that has benefited from the advantages of these new methods, i.e. the capability to build semantic representations of words by skimming through large corpora spanning multiple time periods.
SemEval 2020 Task 1 \cite{schlechtweg2020semeval} addresses the current lack of a systematic approach for the evaluation of automatic methods for the diachronic analysis by proposing a common evaluation framework that comprises two tasks and covers four different languages (German, English, Latin, and Swedish).
Given two corpora $C_1$ and $C_2$ for two periods $t_1$ and $t_2$, Subtask 1 requires participants to classify a set of target words in two categories: words that have lost or gained senses from $t_1$ to $t_2$ and words that did not, while Subtask 2 requires participants to rank the target words according to their degree of lexical semantic change between the two periods.
We tackle the problem of automatically detecting lexical semantic changes with approaches that rely on temporal word embeddings.
These approaches create a word vector representation for each time period by exploiting a shared semantic space. Similarity measures can then be used to capture the extent of a word semantic change between two time lapses.
Some temporal word embedding techniques adopt a two-step approach, where they first learn separate word embeddings for each time period and then align the word vectors across multiple time periods \cite{Hamilton2016}. Other \textit{dynamic} approaches incorporate the alignment directly into the learning stage via the optimisation function \cite{Tahmasebi2018}.
Dynamic word embeddings can be further categorised according to the constraint imposed on the alignment.
The \textit{explicit} alignment adopts a conservative approach to the semantic drift that a word can undergo by posing a limit to the distance between the word vectors belonging to the two temporal spaces.
In the \textit{implicit} alignment, there is no need for explicit constraint since the alignment is automatically performed by sharing the same word context vectors across all the time periods.
In this work, we focus on dynamic word embeddings by exploring methods based on both explicit, such as Dynamic Word2Vec \cite{Yao2018}, and implicit alignment, namely Temporal Random Indexing \cite{Basile} and Temporal Referencing \cite{Dubossarsky2019}.
We analyse the use of different similarity measures to determine the extent of a word semantic change and
compare the cosine similarity with Pearson Correlation and the neighborhood similarity \cite{Shoemark2019}.
While these similarity measures can be directly employed to generate a ranked list of words for Subtask 2, their adoption in Subtask 1 requires further manipulation.
We introduce a new method to classify changing vs. stable words by clustering the target similarity distributions via Gaussian Mixture Models.
We describe the embedding models and the clustering algorithm in Section 2, while Section 3 provides details about the hyper-parameter selection. Section 4 reports the results of the task evaluation followed by some concluding remarks in Section 5.
\section{GM-CTSC}\label{Section2}
We model the problem of automatic detection of semantic change by exploiting temporal word embeddings $E_{i}: w \rightarrow \mathbb{R}^d$ that project each word $w$ in the vocabulary $V$ into a $d$-dimensional semantic space. Given two different time periods $t_1$ and $t_2$, we create two embeddings $E_1$ and $E_2$.
We investigate several models to compute temporal words embeddings:
\begin{description}
\item \textbf{Dynamic Word2Vec (DW2V)} \cite{Yao2018} simultaneously learns time-aware embeddings by aligning and reducing the dimensionality of time-binned Positive Point-wise Mutual Information matrices.
\item \textbf{Temporal Random Indexing (TRI)} \cite{Basile} implicitly aligns co-occurrence matrices by using the same random projection for all the temporal bins.
\item \textbf{Collocations} extracts for each word and each time period the set of relevant collocations through Dice score.
As similarity function, we measure the cosine similarity between the sets of collocations belonging to the two different time periods. More details are reported in \newcite{BasileKronos}.
\item \textbf{Temporal Referencing (TR)} \cite{Dubossarsky2019} used only in the post-evaluation, it consists in a modified version of Word2Vec Skipgram that adds a temporal
referencing to target vectors, keeping context vectors unchanged.
\end{description}
A similarity measure between vectors in the two temporal spaces is adopted to compute the extent of the semantic drift of the target words. We explored several similarity measures:
\begin{description}
\item {\textbf{Cosine similarity (CS)}} is the cosine of the angle between two vectors.
\item {\textbf{Pearson correlation (PC)}} measures the linear correlation between two variables, in case of centred vectors (with zero means) is equivalent to the cosine similarity.
\item {\textbf{Neighborhood similarity (NS)}} computes two $k$-neighbour sets $nbrs_k(E_1(w))$ and $nbrs_k(E_2(w))$ and the union set \( \mathcal{U} = nbrs_k(E_1(w)) \cup nbrs_k(E_2(w))\). Two second-order vectors, one for each word representation $u_j$, are created. The components of $u_i$ are the cosine similarity between the vector $v_j$\footnote{Where $v_j$ is the vector representation for the word generated by $E_j$ and $j$ is the time period.} and the i-th element of $\mathcal{U}$: $u_{j_i}=cos(v_j, \mathcal{U}(i))$. The Neighborhood similarity is the cosine similarity between the second-order vectors. In all the experiments we set $k=25$.
\end{description}
\subsection{Subtask 2}
In Subtask 2, we use one of the three similarity measures ($CS$, $PC$, $NS$) to compute the set of target similarities $\mathcal{S}=\{sim(E_1(w),E_2(w)) \mid w \in T \}$. Then, we rank the target words according to the distance, computed as: $1 - \mid sim(E_1(w), E_2(w))\mid$.
\subsection{Subtask 1: Gaussian Mixture Clustering}
Subtask 1 requires a further step: given $\mathcal{S}$, the set of target similarities, we need to predict the target labels.
The aim is to assign either of the two classes, 0 (stable) or 1 (change), to each target word of a given language.
Once we compute the set of target similarities $\mathcal{S}$, we want to find a way to assign the corresponding label.
We assume that low similarities suggest changing words and high similarities indicate stable words.
Gaussian Mixture Models (GMMs) allow to build probabilistic models for representing the Gaussian distribution of stable and changed targets.
We use GMMs\footnote{\url{https://scikit-learn.org/stable/modules/generated/sklearn.mixture.GaussianMixture.html}} to model the density of the distributions of the similarities of targets as a weighted sum of two Gaussian densities \cite{huang2017model}:
\begin{equation}
\label{eq:gmm}
f(\mathcal{S}) = \sum_{m=0}^{M}\pi_m\phi(\mathcal{S}|\mu_m,\Sigma_m)
\end{equation}
where $M$ is the number of mixture components, $\phi(\mathcal{S}|\mu_m,\Sigma_m)$ is the Gaussian density with mean vector $\mu_m$ and covariance matrix $\Sigma_m$, and $\pi_m$ is the prior probability for the $m$-th component.
Additional constraints can be applied to the covariance matrix in Eq. \ref{eq:gmm}.
In our experiments, we allow each component to have its own covariance matrix.
For our purpose, we speculate that the distribution of target similarities is a mixture of two densities, i.e. representing the stable and changing words. Consequently, we fixed the number of the mixture components in the GMMs to two.
We initially randomly assign a label (stable/changing) to each density distribution.
Let $\mu_0$ and $\mu_1$ be the means of the two Gaussians associated with the ``stable'' and ``changing'' labels respectively. If $\mu_0 < \mu_1$ (i.e. the similarity mean of the distribution labelled as ``stable'' is lower than the mean of distribution labelled as ``changing''), we invert the labels.
Alg. \ref{algorithm:algorithm1} can be used for properly label each word of the target vocabulary.
\begin{algorithm}[h!]
\SetAlgoLined
\SetKwInOut{Input}{input}
\SetKwInOut{Output}{output}
\Input{$\mathcal{S}$}
\Output{labels}
$\mathcal{N}(\mu_0,\sigma_0),\mathcal{N}(\mu_1,\sigma_1),labels \longleftarrow GaussianMixtures(\mathcal{S})$\;
\If{$\mu_0 < \mu_1$}{
$labels \longleftarrow 1-labels$\;
}
\caption{Assign labels}
\label{algorithm:algorithm1}
\end{algorithm}
In order to set the best parameters for each language and model, we rely on the GMMs log likelihood, which is generally used for estimating the clusters quality:
\begin{equation}
\ell(\theta \mid \mathcal{S}) = log \sum_{m=0}^{M}\pi_m\phi(\mathcal{S}\mid \mu_m, \Sigma_m)
\end{equation}
where $\theta$ are the parameters of the GMM.
For each language, we select the best model configuration to submit at the challenge using the GMMs log likelihood $\ell(\theta \mid \mathcal{S})$.
We improperly use this approach for choosing parameters across different models (different sets of similarities $\mathcal{S}$), as we do not have validation set for tuning the parameters.
We will investigate this limitation as future work.
The selected models and hyper-parameters are reported in Tab. \ref{table:config}. In particular, we use cosine similarity, Pearson correlation and Neighborhood similarity for computing the targets similarities in $Overall_{CS}$, $Overall_{PC}$ and $Overall_{NS}$ runs, respectively. In $DW2V$ and $TRI$ runs we use always cosine similarity.
\section{Experimental Setup}
In all the runs, we do not pre-process data and we use a context window size of 5 while analyzing sentences. The $TR$ model\footnote{We add this model during the post-evaluation.} has been adopted into its original implementation\footnote{\url{https://github.com/Garrafao/TemporalReferencing}}, as the $TRI$\footnote{\url{https://github.com/pippokill/tri}} approach and $DW2V$\footnote{\url{https://github.com/yifan0sun/DynamicWord2Vec}} one.
For runs involving $TRI$, we experimented with a varying vector size from $200$ to $1,000$.
Moreover, we investigated (1) the initialization of the count matrix at time $j$ with the matrix at time $j-1$, (2) the contribution of positive-only projections, and (3) the application of PPMI weights, as explained in \newcite{QasemiZadeh2016}.
For $DW2V$, we use the parameter setting proposed in \newcite{Yao2018}. We set \(\lambda=10\), \(\tau=50\), \(\gamma=100\), \(\rho=50\) and experimented with a number of iterations from one to five.
As vocabulary, we kept the top 50,000 most frequent tokens for both $TRI$ and $DW2V$.
In the $TR$ runs, we set the vector size to $100$, and we experimented eight iterations for English and Latin, and four for German and Swedish. We use $20$ negative samples, keeping only the tokens that occur at least $10$ times.
All the other parameters used for configuring the models are reported in Tab. \ref{table:config}.
\begin{center}
\resizebox{300px}{!}{
\begin{tabular}{c c c c c c}
\toprule
Run & Configuration & English & German & Latin & Swedish\\
\midrule
\multirow{2}{*}{$Overall_{CS}$} & Model & DW2V & Collocation & DW2V & DW2V \\
& Parameters & it=3 & - & it=3 & it=4\\
\midrule
\multirow{2}{*}{$Overall_{PC}$} & Model & DW2V & DW2V & DW2V & DW2V \\
& Parameters & it=3 & it=4 & it=3 & it=4\\
\midrule
\multirow{2}{*}{$Overall_{NS}$} & Model & DW2V & DW2V & DW2V & DW2V \\
& Parameters & it=3 & it=1 & it=3 & it=4\\
\midrule
\multirow{2}{*}{$TRI$} & \multirow{2}{*}{Parameters} & k= 400 & k=1000 & k=1000 & k=1000\\
& & pw=False & pw=True & pw=True & pw=True\\
\midrule
$DW2V$ & Parameters & it=3 & it=4 & it=3 & it=4\\
\bottomrule
\end{tabular}
}
\captionof{table}{Hyper-parameters and models selected for each run. \textit{it} is the number of iterations, \textit{k} is the embedding size, \textit{pw} the use of PPMI weights}
\label{table:config}
\end{center}
\section{Results}
Tab. \ref{table:res} reports the main results obtained by the different models.
It shows the results obtained from the official submissions at the challenge and the results obtained by the $TR$ approach performed during the post-evaluation phase. The results obtained for the Subtask 1 are reported using the accuracy metric, while for the Subtask 2, the Spearman's rank-order correlation coefficients are used.
Considering the results of the evaluation phase, the models show not consistent behaviors.
$TRI$ showed the best performance when considering ``all the languages'' for both Subtasks, although in Subtask 1 it is not able to overcome \textit{Baseline2}.
Focusing on Subtask 1, if we consider each language in isolation, we see that $DW2V$ gives the best results for English\footnote{Please, note that for EN, LA and SW $Overall_{CS}$ and $DW2V$ coincide} while $Overall_{PC}$ (Collocation with cosine similarity) is our best system for German language, although it is not able to overcome \textit{Baseline2}.
$TRI$ is the best system for Latin, although outperformed by \textit{Baseline1}, and Sweden languages.
In Subtask 2, the best English score was reported by $Overall_{NS}$.
Simlarly to Subtask 1, $Overall_{CS}$ performed the best in German language.
For Latin and Sweden, $TRI$ provided the best results, and interestingly, it is one of the few systems that did not generate a negative correlation.
For Sweden language in particular, it is interesting to notice that $TRI$ generated the best result among all the task participants.
At the end of the challenge, when the labelled test set was released, we performed more experiments reported in the \textit{post-evaluation} row.
In this phase we run an additional system, $TR$, which outperformed all the previous reported approaches, including both baselines.
The only exception is for Latin, in which for Subtask 1 $Baseline1$ achieves $0.650$ accuracy in comparison to $0.525$ of $TR$.
Comparing $TR$ and $TRI$, which are both based on implicit alignment, the former is a prediction-based model while the is latter a count-based one.
Moreover, $TR$ creates a temporal word embedding only for the target words rather than for the whole vocabulary. Consequently, this results in better word embeddings for all the words in the vocabulary that do not have a temporal reference.
These differences allow $TR$ to achieve better results than the other models.
\begin{table}[]
\centering
\resizebox{430px}{!}{
\begin{tabular}{l l l l l l c l l l l l }
\toprule
\multicolumn{1}{c}{} & \multicolumn{5}{c}{\textbf{Subtask 1}} & & \multicolumn{5}{c}{\textbf{Subtask 2}} \\
\cmidrule(lr){2-6} \cmidrule(lr){8-12}
\multicolumn{1}{c}{\textbf{System}} & \multicolumn{1}{c}{\textbf{\begin{tabular}[c]{@{}c@{}}All\\ Lang.\end{tabular}}} & \multicolumn{1}{c}{\textbf{EN}} & \multicolumn{1}{c}{\textbf{GE}} & \multicolumn{1}{c}{\textbf{LA}} & \multicolumn{1}{c}{\textbf{SW}} & & \multicolumn{1}{c}{\textbf{\begin{tabular}[c]{@{}c@{}}All\\ Lang.\end{tabular}}} & \multicolumn{1}{c}{\textbf{EN}} & \multicolumn{1}{c}{\textbf{GE}} & \multicolumn{1}{c}{\textbf{LA}} & \multicolumn{1}{c}{\textbf{SW}} \\
\midrule
\multicolumn{1}{l}{\textit{$Baseline1$}} & 0.439 & 0.432 & 0.417 & \textit{\textbf{0.650}} & 0.258 & & -0.083 & -0.217 & 0.014 & 0.020 & -0.150 \\
\multicolumn{1}{l}{\textit{$Baseline2$}} & \textit{0.613} & 0.595 & \textit{0.688} & 0.525 & 0.645 & & 0.144 & 0.022 & 0.216 & \textit{0.359} & -0.022 \\
\midrule
\multicolumn{1}{l}{\textit{$Overall_{CS}$}} & 0.509 & \textit{0.622} & 0.500 & 0.400 & 0.516 & & 0.111 & 0.252 & \textit{0.415} & -0.183 & 0.041 \\
\multicolumn{1}{l}{\textit{$Overall_{PC}$}} & 0.533 & 0.595 & 0.646 & 0.375 & 0.516 & & 0.056 & 0.272 & 0.168 & -0.135 & -0.080 \\
\multicolumn{1}{l}{\textit{$Overall_{NS}$}} & 0.508 & 0.568 & 0.542 & 0.375 & 0.548 & & 0.035 & \textit{0.298} & -0.059 & -0.179 & 0.078 \\
\multicolumn{1}{l}{\textit{$Collocation$}} & 0.513 & 0.486 & 0.500 & 0.550 & 0.516 & & 0.273 & 0.144 & \textit{0.415} & 0.194 & 0.340 \\
\multicolumn{1}{l}{\textit{$DW2V$}} & 0.541 & \textit{0.622} & 0.625 & 0.400 & 0.516 & & 0.098 & 0.252 & 0.366 & -0.183 & -0.041 \\
\multicolumn{1}{l}{\textit{$TRI$}} & 0.554 & 0.486 & 0.479 & 0.475 & \textit{0.774} & & 0.296 & 0.211 & 0.337 & 0.253 & \textit{0.385} \\
\midrule
\multicolumn{1}{l}{\textit{\begin{tabular}[c]{@{}l@{}}$TR$\\ (post-eval.)\end{tabular}}} & \textbf{0.704} & \textbf{0.703} & \textbf{0.812} & 0.525 & \textbf{0.774} & & \textbf{0.496} & \textbf{0.304} & \textbf{0.722} & \textbf{0.395} & \textbf{0.562} \\
\bottomrule
\end{tabular}
}
\captionof{table}{
Results obtained by our models during the official competition and during the post-evaluation phase.
For the Subtask 1 the results represent the accuracy score. Spearman's rank-order correlation coefficients are used for the Subtask 2.}
\label{table:res}
\end{table}
During the post-evaluation we decided to investigate also the role of GMMs for class labeling (Sec. \ref{Section2}).
We compared GMMs with semi-manual thresholds \(\mu_{\mathcal{S}}\), \(\mu_{\mathcal{S}}-\sigma_{\mathcal{S}}\),
\(\mu_{\mathcal{S}}+\sigma_{\mathcal{S}}\) and
Winsorizing \cite{kokic1994optimal} computing \(\mu_{\boldsymbol{S}}\) and \(\sigma_{\boldsymbol{S}}\) on data provided for Subtask 1, where $\mu_\mathcal{S}$, $\sigma_\mathcal{S}$ are the mean and the standard deviation computed on the similarity set $\mathcal{S}$.
Figure \ref{figure:figure1} reports the different accuracy scores obtained by the five methods for the $TRI$, $Collocation$, $DW2V$, $TR$ approaches.
The scores for the GMMs strategy are close to those obtained by
\(\mu_{\mathcal{S}}\) for TRI and Collocation.
While GMMs outperforms \(\mu_{\mathcal{S}}+\sigma_{\mathcal{S}}\) in every run,
\(\mu_{\mathcal{S}}-\sigma_{\mathcal{S}}\) seems to work better than GMMs except that in $TR$.
Winsorizing work better in $TRI$ and $Collocation$ than GMMs. GMMs outperforms Winsorizing in $DW2V$ and $TR$.
These results are not clear enough to advocate for a specific threshold.
Consequently, further analysis will be part of future work in order to understand what is the better threshold that could be included in the GMMs process.
\begin{center}
\scalebox{0.65}{
\begin{tikzpicture}
\begin{axis}[
symbolic x coords={$TRI$,$Collocation$,$DW2V$,$TR$},
xtick=data,
ylabel=Accuracy,
enlargelimits=0.15,
legend style={at={(0.5,-0.11)},
anchor=north,legend columns=-1},
ybar
]
\addplot coordinates {($TRI$,0.554) ($Collocation$,0.513) ($DW2V$,0.541) ($TR$,0.704)};
\addplot coordinates {($TRI$,0.558) ($Collocation$,0.520) ($DW2V$,0.485) ($TR$,0.667)};
\addplot coordinates {($TRI$,0.643) ($Collocation$,0.603) ($DW2V$,0.564) ($TR$,0.667)};
\addplot coordinates {($TRI$,0.474) ($Collocation$,0.474) ($DW2V$,0.506) ($TR$,0.477)};
\addplot coordinates {($TRI$,0.593) ($Collocation$,0.553) ($DW2V$,0.482) ($TR$,0.614)};
\legend{GMMs$\quad$,\(\mu_{\boldsymbol{S}}\)$\quad$, \(\mu_{\boldsymbol{S}}-\sigma_{\boldsymbol{S}}\)$\quad$, \(\mu_{\boldsymbol{S}}+\sigma_{\boldsymbol{S}}\)$\quad$,Winsorizing}
\end{axis}
\end{tikzpicture}
}
\captionof{figure}{Accuracy scores in Subtask 1 using different class labeling strategies: GMMs, \(\mu_{\boldsymbol{S}}\), \(\mu_{\boldsymbol{S}}-\sigma_{\boldsymbol{S}}\), \(\mu_{\boldsymbol{S}}+\sigma_{\boldsymbol{S}}\) and Winsorizing using mean and standard deviation.}
\label{figure:figure1}
\end{center}
\section{Conclusions}
We described the runs we submitted to the SemEval-2020 Task 1: Unsupervised Lexical Semantic Change Detection.
This paper has two main contributions.
We reported a comparison of some of the most recent approaches to model lexical semantic change with temporal word embeddings, and we experimented with an automatic unsupervised procedure to classify changing and stable words. Results show that implicit alignment works generally better in modelling the lexical semantic change.
In future works we plan to carry out an analysis on unlemmatised corpora and gauge a better understanding of the impact of Gaussian Mixture Clustering for unsupervised lexical semantic change detection.
\bibliographystyle{coling}
| {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaArXiv"
} | 6,309 |
Q: Hebrew in Lyx with Ubuntu 13.10 Im trying to confing my Lyx to render Hebrew but I dont manage.
I have a fresh installation of Ubuntu 13.10, Lyx 2.0.6.
I followed these common instructions , downloaded and installed the latest version of culmus (culmus-latex_0.7-1_all_fixed) as required but got warnings from the software centre:
The package is of bad quality
and in details some of this type
E: culmus-latex: control-file-has-bad-owner postrm itai/itai !=
root/root
And alot of this type
E: culmus-latex: wrong-file-owner-uid-or-gid etc/ 1000/1000
"
I tried the ignoring and installing anyway, but the lyx still wasnt showing hebrew.
I tried also installing "culmus-latex-0.7-r1.tar.gz" (which i managed to install without errors)
I also installed "TrueType and Type1 Hebrew Fonts for X11" from the software centre.
Normally after configuring the setting and preferences the system language remains English but when typing in Lyx the Hebrew letters appear but now i cant get it to work.
*
*I remember there is a need to change the cua file in Tools ->
Preferences -> Edit -> shortcuts into a special hebrew cua bind file
and then be able to set F10 to switch the Hebrew and English (which
one of them appears with an underline), but I did no such thing. at
this moment F10 only switches the direction of the typing - RTL\LTR
*When I try to render an empty document to PDF after applying those changes I get the error: "LaTeX Error: File `cp1255.def' not found" where cp1255 is of course the Hebrew encoding i chose in the document settings.
This is all the information I have
Thank you for all the help.
A: You can get support for compiling with pdfTeX and IvriTeX Hebrew fonts by using install-tl-ubuntu. Just run the following command:
sudo ./install-tl-ubuntu --hebrew
Before you do that, you should remove whichever LaTeX installation you currently have (by default it installs a full TeX Live 2013 distribution). See ./install-tl-ubuntu --help for more information.
If you would like to compile with XeTeX, there is no need for any of this. Just to test that it works (the choice of fonts is not correct and probably ugly for Hebrew but you can use any fonts):
*
*In Document > Settings > Fonts, check the box "Use non-TeX fonts"
and change the three fonts to FreeSans (or any other font that
supports Hebrew).
*Click OK.
*Try to export with XeTeX.
Better Hebrew fonts can be found in the ubuntu packages culmus and culmus-fancy.
| {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaStackExchange"
} | 4,119 |
from __future__ import unicode_literals
from django.db import migrations, models
class Migration(migrations.Migration):
dependencies = [
('pages', '0002_auto_20170323_1337'),
]
operations = [
migrations.AlterField(
model_name='page',
name='title_chinese',
field=models.CharField(blank=True, max_length=200, verbose_name='Chinese title'),
),
]
| {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaGithub"
} | 3,777 |
Robert Sachs, a writer of fiction
My Photographs
Louisville Literary Arts
The Grasmere Writers
Rothstein Before the Fall
This story appeared in the July 2010 Issue of the Front Porch Review
Rothstein was at the Art Institute listening on a headset to a description of The Child's Bath by Mary Cassatt, when there was some static and a woman's voice said: "Charlie, come over here."
He looked around the gallery. There was a museum guard and two plump, gray-haired women in the gallery. But the voice was a young woman's voice.
"Where?" Rothstein whispered.
"I'm in the next room. The Rodin."
He moved into the next gallery. There, standing between two Monet's was a marble sculpture of a nude woman less than three feet tall, Rodin's Eve After the Fall. "Over here, Charlie." There it was again, that voice. He walked to the sculpted woman and stood facing her. She looked ashamed of herself, vulnerable, her arms shielding her breasts, one hand held as if imploring God not to strike her down. But her voice was anything but vulnerable.
"Put your hand on my ass," it told Rothstein. He looked around at the other people in the gallery, but they seemed not to hear what he was hearing.
"My ass, Charlie," the statue repeated stonily. "You know you want to."
He drew closer to the woman. She was all marble and completely naked. A practical joke, he thought. Or maybe sting operation—as soon as he touched the statue's behind, uniformed police would swoop down and arrest him. Of the two, the joke hypothesis worried him more. He did not like being made fun of. It's not that he lacked a sense of humor. On the contrary, he felt his sense of humor was keen. But he detested being the butt of practical jokes.
He noticed a small video camera high in a corner of the gallery. Those are in every gallery, he told himself, part of the security system. A museum employee would risk losing his job if he used that system to play jokes on patrons. And was he the only one who heard the sculpture's voice? Was everyone but him in on the joke? And how did the voice know his name? He was beginning to sweat.
As he turned and walked toward the modern wing of the museum, he heard: "Don't leave, Charlie. Please. My hips—please—caress my hips." He pretended to smile. If people were watching, he wanted them to know he was in on the joke.
"Very funny," he murmured, removing his headphones. There was silence. But in a few seconds, he could hear the small crackle of static in the phones. It was just loud enough that he could hear his name being called through the tiny speakers.
He walked through the gallery of some post-Impressionist painters: Vuillard, Signac, Rousseau. He put one of the earphones next to his ear. A man's voice was describing Toulouse-Lautrec's lithograph, Adolphe--The Sad Young Man. He slipped the earphones over his head and tried to concentrate on the man's voice. But it was no good; he was thinking about the Rodin, about Eve and her lewd entreaties.
As he was about to enter the modern wing, there was another crackle of static and the woman's voice: "Rothstein, come back. I need you."
"Enough," he shouted, ripping off the headset. People turned to look; a guard, startled, stood up and moved toward him. Rothstein dropped off the headset and hurriedly left the museum. The joke, if that's what it was, rankled him.
On the El train back to his Albany Park apartment, he ruminated on the failure of a day that had started in such a pleasant way. He'd set his alarm for eight, a luxury only a Sunday could offer. The attractive young woman from the night before was long gone. He showered, skimmed the morning paper, and made breakfast for himself. Cora, if that was her name—it was loud at the party—was a good sport. He knew she was just as sure as he was that they'd end up in the sack by the end of the evening.
After breakfast he had walked over to the park for the regular Sunday morning game of touch football. They called him the Old Man, but, at forty, he was tall and still athletic. Maybe he no longer had the legs to be a receiver or a running back, but he remained a formidable quarterback. He had thrown four touchdown passes in a losing effort. It was a good workout nonetheless and the brisk autumn air was exhilarating. He had planned to leave the entire afternoon for the Art Institute.
Rothstein loved to roam the galleries on his own. He could sit when he wanted to spend time with a painting and not feel the pressure of someone waiting for him. He might wander past the large Caillebotte one Sunday, paying no attention to it, and the next stand in front of it for twenty minutes. Meandering through the galleries, Rothstein often lost his sense of time. During the week, he was busy trolling for clients for his investment business. Saturday he cleaned up his apartment and did the shopping for the week. He saved Sunday afternoon for the Art Institute.
But now, as the train approached Kimball Avenue, he was angry about the woman's voice that had driven him from his Sunday sanctuary. Stepping from the train to the platform, Rothstein noticed a tall, familiar looking brunette ahead of him.
"Mary?"
The woman turned. "Charlie! How nice to see you." Her smile was genuine. The two had dated for a couple of months several years ago. They had parted ways amicably and although they live in the same neighborhood, Rothstein couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her.
"I'm getting an early dinner," he said. "Care to join me?"
Mary hesitated and then smiled. "Sure. Just don't get me home too late."
There was pleasant chit-chat at a little Italian place not far from her apartment. Rothstein felt a slight dizziness from the red wine he was drinking. Mary was talking at length about something, but he wasn't paying attention. She was the only woman he'd ever met with green eyes and this particular evening, her eyes looked greener than he remembered. Going to bed with Mary, he thought, would make up for the unpleasant visit to the Art Institute.
During the ensuing week, he didn't think about the voice. But after the Sunday touch football game, on the El ride downtown, he began to worry. He decided to dispense with the headset this time. There were two special exhibits and the museum was more crowded than usual. He'd stick with the Asian galleries where it was less likely to be jam-packed.
Eishi's A courtesan reading a letter struck his fancy and he sat on the wooden bench in the center of the gallery admiring it. As he sat, he heard a voice call out his name. It was the same voice! He stiffened and looked quickly around. There was the guard, of course, and three teen-aged girls who seemed to be passing through to some other part of the museum.
"My ass, Charlie. I've been waiting."
The voice reverberated in the indoor ether, but was it only for him to hear? This worried Rothstein. He feared he might be losing his mind. But why this voice, why only in the Art Institute?
"I miss you," it said more softly.
"Leave me alone," he said. The guard walked over and asked Rothstein if anything was wrong.
"No. No nothing," Rothstein said. He left the museum without stopping at the Rodin. When he got home, he called Mary to see if she'd have dinner with him. He needed to talk with someone about the "voice," someone who could assure him he wasn't going mad. At dinner he explained what had happened earlier that day and the week before. Mary laughed.
"You're not the kind who hears voices, Charlie. At least I don't think so. Must be some kind of idiotic joke. Do yourself a favor: Stay away from the Art Institute for a few weeks. See what happens."
Rothstein agreed. He made plans with Mary to have a picnic the following Sunday at Foster Avenue beach. It was a nippy early Fall day and they spread their blanket far from the sand and water. Mary had made sandwiches and Rothstein brought the wine. It should have been a pleasant outing, but he couldn't get the Rodin out of his mind. "Grab my ass," she had said.
When Mary took his hand and said, "Penny for your thoughts," he was startled. They were there, he knew, only because he was staying away from the Art Institute. It felt more like therapy to him than a date.
"I'm okay," he said. "Guess I've got a lot on my mind."
The following week, he skipped touch football and arrived at the Art Institute a few minutes before it opened. It was raining hard and he joined a young woman in an archway.
"You're a regular here," the woman said. "I recognize you."
"Yeah, I usually come on Sundays."
"You missed last week."
This unnerved him. "You're checking attendance?"
The woman laughed. "Hardly. There are just some people I notice. I watch out for them. I came early today to avoid the crowd. I see you did too."
"Yes." Rothstein admired the woman's brazenness. Unusual, but not, in his experience, unique. He knew he was good looking. He kept himself in good shape and he liked fashionable clothes. He understood from an early age that women found him attractive.
He heard the doors of the museum click open. "Shall we?" he said. The woman smiled and went in ahead of him. Together they climbed the wide marble stairs to the second floor. Rothstein wondered if she was following him or he her. They both stopped momentarily before the Caillebotte.
"Cheers," she said, turning to the gallery on her left.
"See ya." Rothstein waved and then moved around the Caillebotte and on to Eve. He'd decided to confront the sculpture first thing. She was in the same spot, between two of Monet's watery landscapes. He sat on the wood bench and stared at her with an intensity he usually reserved for stock tables. He could feel his heart beat and he realized he was waiting for her to speak.
But there was only silence. He took several deep breaths and tried to see this Rodin simply as a work of art. His eyes wandered to the familiar Monet on her right.
"Hi, again." It was a woman's voice. Rothstein tightened and turned around. It was the young woman he'd just left. She was standing next to the headless, armless Walking Man, another of Rodin's masterpieces. Rothstein didn't know why he hadn't noticed it before. There was the headless man in mid-stride, facing Eve. So was she turning away from God or from him? Rothstein wasn't sure.
"You are following me," he said with a broad smile. He was relieved that the voice belonged to a real, live person.
"I love this Walking Man," she said. "For some reason it speaks to me."
"It talks to you?"
"Just about," she said, returning his smile. "I find it exhilarating. I must see it every time I'm here. I see you're a fan of Eve, over there."
"Yeah, I guess she speaks to me." He was amazed he could make a joke of it.
"Don't you wish you could touch her?" the woman asked. Rothstein must have looked startled, because the woman immediately apologized. "Sorry. I didn't mean you should actually touch her. It's just that Eve seems so human. To me, at least."
Rothstein relaxed. "I understand," he told her. Early thirties, he estimated by the freshness of her skin, the way she dressed. "Care to have lunch?"
She smiled. "Sure."
He took her arm and guided her toward the staircase. Once outside, he wondered briefly what he was doing. She's not your type, he told himself. Too short. Too young. But her auburn hair looked silky. And when she looked up at him, he knew they would share a bed before nightfall.
They were sharing a sandwich when Rothstein heard the voice. "Charlie, my ass is nicer than hers. Come to me." He looked quickly at the young woman, but it was clear she had heard nothing. No one in the cafeteria was looking at him. "Charlie?"
It was driving him mad. The voice had adopted the tone of a command. Staying away was not an option. She wanted him.
He fumbled for his wallet, gave the waitress a twenty and told the woman he had to go. "An emergency," he said. "Stay and finish." He hurried back to the Art Institute, ran up the stairs and back to gallery 243. He moved close to Eve After the Fall, and waited.
"So," he whispered, looking directly at the sculpted woman on her pedestal. There was no response. The gallery was filled with a minacious silence. Rothstein eased closer. He bit his lower lip and leaned in. Ever so slowly he reached around to the back of the statue. | {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaCommonCrawl"
} | 4,480 |
I want to thank you personally for stopping by to read my blog! Please be sure to leave comments and ratings for any of the products or programs that you have tried that are part of my reviews.
My goal is to bring you the most up-to-date information about fitness products and programs that I have tried with the hopes to give you a better idea of what they are about, how effective I found them to be, and the type of quality you can expect for the price.
I have also created a rating and review system so that you too can make comments on any of the items reviewed here as well. I believe this fair exchange of information is very important to people who are on the hunt for the next best thing. After all, no one is interested in a biased single point-of-view review from anyone looking to make a quick buck!
What makes me knowledgeable about any of the products listed here and just who the heck are you?
Good question! I am not a professional athlete or fitness trainer, but I do have a passion for health and fitness because the benefits gained from being in shape and having a healthy body are extraordinary and I hope to share my experiences with you in the hopes that you too gain some benefit, whether its losing a few pounds to get ready for a special event or for the sake of getting in the best shape of your life.
As for the products reviewed here, my pledge is that no product will be listed here that I don't have first-hand experience with. I might have either completed the entire program, tried a few workouts, and or consumed the content to a degree that allows me to pass on details to you about the benefits or lack thereof to keep you as informed as possible.
But couldn't I just rig the reviews?
Absolutely – but quite frankly, there is zero benefit in doing that. There are already enough websites out there doing just that. People, post a review of something they know nothing of simply in hopes that an affiliate commission is banked to their account no matter who the buyer might be.
Enter my interactive review system!
The reviews on this website are my opinion and written from my personal experience. However, I've added a User Review feature for each product so that you, or anyone, who has purchased the product through one of my affiliate links or from somewhere else can leave their own rating and post feedback. I am hoping that with your input we can shed some light on things from multiple perspectives.
Am I an Affiliate of the reviewed products?
To be fully transparent and clear about things, there are links on this website that I may receive a commission for should you follow it and make a purchase. You are in no way expected to click my links, but I must tell you that every commission that is made as a result of your purchase is received with the highest degree of gratitude and allows me to maintain this site, test more products, and keep bringing the best information available regarding a product's effectiveness and overall worth in helping you achieve your fitness goals.
Please be sure to join the forums to get free updates, workouts, information on the latest fitness trends and tricks. It's easy and it's totally free. This will allow you to post in the forums and interact with other members of the community.
I really hope you enjoy my articles and I look forward to hearing from you. Thanks again for stopping by. I appreciate it. | {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaC4"
} | 4,048 |
Hojatoleslam Seyyed Ali Akbar Aboutorabi Fard (; 1939 – June 2, 2000) was an Iranian revolutionary. During the Iran–Iraq War, he assisted in the organization of an Iranian militia but was captured by Iraqi forces and spent 10 years in Iraqi prisons. Upon his release, he became the Supreme Leader's representative to Azadegan Affairs Headquarters and Tehran's representative in the 4th and 5th terms of the Islamic Consultative Assembly.
Early life and education
Hojatoleslam Seyyed Ali Akbar Aboutorabi Fard was born in 1939 in Qazvin. During his childhood, he saw all Reza Shah's violence against religion and seminaries and clerics of Islam. He also saw women of family stay at home in Kashfe hijab time and found his ancestors in fight path against Pahlavi's irreligion plans.
He was a champion at a swimming was the champion in swimming event Amjadiyeh in Tehran and was the top player in football and volleyball in high school. In 1957 after finishing high school his travel to insisted that he would go to Germany and continue his education there. He thought continued studying in seminaries would leave him poor and needy. But after a little hesitation in Qom, in 1958 he went to Mashhad to learn regional science hence he could to escape his uncle's insistence. However he made a covenant with himself to never get financial assistance, even from his father. In Mashhad, he was living in paltry room in Navvab School and was engaged in teaching and learning.
With beginning of Imam Khomeini's movement, he found Qom as the center of struggle so he returned there in 1963. He resided in the Hojjatie School to be engaged in Khomeini's companions activities.
Marriage
In 1967, Aboutorabi came back to Iran and married at the age of 28. He then moved to Najaf with his wife.
Before the Islamic Revolution
Devotees of Islam
He attended the ceremony for the Devotees of Islam and was a spectator at their gatherings when he was a teenager.
Uprising of 15 Khordad
Abutorabi also was beaten when police rushed to the Feyziyeh School in the June 5, 1963 (15 Khordad) demonstrations in Iran.
Migration to Najaf
Following the suppression of 1963 uprising and Imam Khomeini's exile to Najaf, he moved to Najaf and attended classes of Imam Khomeini and other clerics. To travel to Najaf, he went to Basra secretly through Khorramshahr's port and then traveled to Najaf.
Arrest
In 1970, Aboutorabi and his wife and children returned to Iran on the pretext of meeting the family, with Imam Khomeini's statement about Ayatollah Saeedi, who was killed in SAVAK's prison, embedded in his suitcase. Pahlavi regime's security forces, who were awaiting Imam Khomeini's reaction about Ayatollah Saeedi's death, strongly controlled the Khosravi border crossing. They therefore arrested Aboutorabi when he was crossing the border, and took him to SAVAK station in Kermanshah when they found the statements. He was moved to Tehran one day later.
The cunning of Aboutorabi in dealing with SAVAK interrogators and normal response to questions, led to be not very long his prison term, though SAVAK officials were not convinced. Six months later, after much torture and harassment, Aboutorabi was released from prison.
After release
He tried to go to Najaf after his release, but he did not succeed. So he continued his political struggle in Iran and organized an armed struggle along with Seyyed Ali Andarzgo. They were repeatedly prosecuted by SAVAK, but they maintained a high level of secrecy to the extent that very little of these activities has been recorded. Aboutorabi's control operation was codenamed "Saghar" meaning goblet. With the spread of Islamic Revolution, SAVAK had no opportunity to arrest him.
During Islamic Revolution, he was commander of group of people who seized Sa'dabad Palace and protected the facility in the palace until delivered to competent authorities.
He in collaboration with his brother, Hojatoleslam Sayyed Mohammad Aboutorabi, played important role in seizing of Qazvin Army garrison and prevented from leaving weapons and war equipment. He had a close relationship with Mohammad-Ali Rajai, Mohammad Beheshti, and Ali Khamenei, and participated the welcoming committee on the arrival of Imam Khomeini in Iran.
After Iranian Revolution
He formed and directed the Islamic Revolution Committee in Qazvin, his ancestral city, for organizing and to avoid anarchy. After a while following a popular vote he became a member of the City council and afterward undertook the presidency.
The Imposed War
Soon after the Islamic Revolution, the Imposed War began. With start of the War, he accompanied Mostafa Chamran in Irregular Warfare Headquarters to organize the militia. He was going on difficult exploration mission himself. Liberation of "Dobb-e Hardan", the adventurous and dangerous area, is one of his actions as a commander of a group of 100 fighters.
Captivity
Eventually, on December 17, 1980, while returning from a reconnaissance mission, he was identified and captured by enemy forces, while his distance from friendly forces was 7 km.
Aboutorabi says about the early days of his captivity:"several times in jail they took me to the gallows and counted 1 and 2 for extracting confessions but each time they took me back. During the day, they took and brought me several time. Eventually at night they took me to Al-Amare school. An Iraqi general told those who were there: he has not right to sleep; we come back at midnight for extracting confessions, if he did not have enough information, we would nail his head. They came back at midnight and nailed my head, but it was not such a hit to die."
When Abutorabi was tortured in Iraq, it was rumoured in Iran that he had been martyred. Commemorations, lectures by prominent persons such as Mohammad-Ali Rajai, day-off and mourning in the city of Qazvin, participation of Hashem Rasuli and Yousef Saanei and Mohammad-Ali Nezamzade at his commemoration on behalf of Imam Khomeini to convey the message of condolence made clear the dimensions of character of Aboutorai. So Iraqi government recognized him as a prominent cleric.
Iraqi officials wanted to kill him, but an Iraqi general rejected since he was Sayyid and descendants of the Islamic prophet Muhammad. Iraqi officials repeatedly moved him from camp to another, including Camp Anbar, Camps Mosul 1, 2, 3 and 4, Camp Romadie, Camp Tikrit. Iranian captives loved Aboutorabi very much because of his way in leadership of captives. He was nicknamed "Seyyed-e Azadegan", means sir of released war captives, because of his way to deal with captivity and encouraging the captives. Even Iraqi soldiers were impressed by his personality. For example, an Iraqi Major told Aboutorabi: "if Khomeini is like you, I will follow him."
After captivity
Finally, after ten years of captivity, he returned to his homeland to a popular welcome. He was appointed as the representative of the Supreme Leader in Azadegan (released war captives) Affairs Headquarters. In the fourth and fifth sessions of the Islamic Consultative Assembly, he was the second and third representative from Tehran.
Death
Alongside his father Haj Seyyed Abbas Aboutorabi, he was killed in a car crash on June 2, 2000, when they were on their way to Mashhad for Imam Reza pilgrimage. They were buried in the Sahn Azadi (freedom courtyard) of the Imam Reza shrine on the anniversary of Imam Reza's martyrdom.
Professors
Ali Meshkini
Hossein Vahid Khorasani
Ruhollah Khomeini
Alipanah Ishtihardi
Mojtaba Qazvini Khorasani
References
2000 deaths
Iranian Irregular Warfare Headquarters guerrillas
Iranian Shia clerics
Iranian revolutionaries
1939 births
People from Qazvin
Members of the 4th Islamic Consultative Assembly
Members of the 5th Islamic Consultative Assembly
Association for Defence of Revolution Values politicians
Islamic Revolution Committees personnel
Society of Devotees of the Islamic Revolution politicians
Burials at Imam Reza Shrine | {
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{"url":"https:\/\/stats.stackexchange.com\/questions\/312482\/goodness-of-fit-stochastic-model","text":"# Goodness of fit - stochastic model\n\nGoing back to a very old question... How to quantify the goodness of fit of a model. Now, I now this is a very general questions, that is probably still the subject of research nowadays, so I will present a more specific case and my initial solution.\n\nI have an experiment where I measure two different quantities ($X$ and $Y$) for different timepoints. This two quantities have very different scales. At each timepoint I have several repetitions of said measurements. This repetitions included both technical and biological replicates. As I expect (and observed) the biological variation to be larger than the technical variation, I end up summarising the data with the mean of each quantity per timepoint and the standard error of the mean (SEM) for each (calculated as sd(data)\/sqrt(size of data)).\n\nNow, the model part. My model is a non-linear model whit either 3, 4 or 5 parameters (I'm testing different models, but that's not the point). The model is stochastic, so for every parameter set I summarise the model output by running a specific number of simulations (30) and compute the mean and SEM for each variable in each timepoint.\n\nAfter I've done with computing the best set of parameters for the model (another yet related problem) I want to assess the quality of the fitting... Any ideas?\n\n\u2022 The simplest is that I compute some $r^2$, either weighted by the error in the data or not.\n\n\u2022 In my optimization process I computed an analogous to the Likelihood of the data given the parameters: $L(data | parameters) = \\int N(x | u_p, \\sigma_p)*N(x | u_o, \\sigma_o) dx$ with $u_p$ and $\\sigma_p$ being the predicted mean and SEM from the model and $u_o$ and $\\sigma_o$ being the observed.\n\nWe start by assuming that both the data measurement and the model simulations behave like a normal distribution. Also, after my fitting procedure I obtain a posterior distribution of the parameters (not just a point estimate). I sample $n$ parameters sets $\\theta_j$ from the posterior distribution and assume that, for every one, I run enough simulations that I'm confidant on the mean value expected from that specific parameter combination $j$.\nI compute the sum of standardize error $Z$ as\n$Z = \\sum_{h=1}^n \\sum_{g=1}^q(\\dfrac{(p_{gn}-\\tilde d_g)}{\\sigma d_g})^2$\nwhere $n$ is the number of sampled parameter sets, $q$ is the number of datapoints, $p_{gn}$ is the predicted value for timepoint $g$ with $\\theta_n$, $\\tilde d_g$ is the mean observed value at timepoint $g$ and $\\sigma d_g$ is the observed variance at timepoint $g$.\nNow, I consider $Z$ to be the test statistic for a $\\chi^2$ test with $n\\times q$ degrees of freedom.","date":"2020-09-30 10:03:04","metadata":"{\"extraction_info\": {\"found_math\": true, \"script_math_tex\": 0, \"script_math_asciimath\": 0, \"math_annotations\": 0, \"math_alttext\": 0, \"mathml\": 0, \"mathjax_tag\": 0, \"mathjax_inline_tex\": 1, \"mathjax_display_tex\": 0, \"mathjax_asciimath\": 0, \"img_math\": 0, \"codecogs_latex\": 0, \"wp_latex\": 0, \"mimetex.cgi\": 0, \"\/images\/math\/codecogs\": 0, \"mathtex.cgi\": 0, \"katex\": 0, \"math-container\": 0, \"wp-katex-eq\": 0, \"align\": 0, \"equation\": 0, \"x-ck12\": 0, \"texerror\": 0, \"math_score\": 0.8956050872802734, \"perplexity\": 377.93105515752546}, \"config\": {\"markdown_headings\": true, \"markdown_code\": true, \"boilerplate_config\": {\"ratio_threshold\": 0.18, \"absolute_threshold\": 10, \"end_threshold\": 15, \"enable\": true}, \"remove_buttons\": true, \"remove_image_figures\": true, \"remove_link_clusters\": true, \"table_config\": {\"min_rows\": 2, \"min_cols\": 3, \"format\": \"plain\"}, \"remove_chinese\": true, \"remove_edit_buttons\": true, \"extract_latex\": true}, \"warc_path\": \"s3:\/\/commoncrawl\/crawl-data\/CC-MAIN-2020-40\/segments\/1600402123173.74\/warc\/CC-MAIN-20200930075754-20200930105754-00161.warc.gz\"}"} | null | null |
Q: How to save chart from excel as image/PDF? I want to extract/read a chart (Bar graph/ Pie chart etc.) from my .xlsx file using Apache POI and Java and save it as an image or as a PDF on my hard drive.
Is this possible? If yes, how?
Thank you!
A: After much investigation, apparently I can see that it is not possible to extract charts from Excel using Apache POI and save it as an image or as a PDF.
The approach one can take in this situation is to use COM based solution using Com4j (http://com4j.kohsuke.org/) to convert Excel to PDF and then use Apache PDFBox (https://pdfbox.apache.org/) to convert from PDF to Image.
Giving below brief details about how to use Com4j to convert Excel into PDF programmatically:
*
*Generate Java classes artifacts from Excel with following command:
java -jar tlbimp-2.1.jar -o wsh -p com.mycompany.excel4j "C:\Program
Files (x86)\Microsoft Office\Office14\EXCEL.exe"
We need 3 JARs for above conversion: com4j-2.1.jar, tlbimp-2.1.jar, args4j-2.0.8.jar
We may download corresponding JARs from - http://com4j.kohsuke.org/maven-com4j-plugin/dependencies.html
For more information, refer: http://com4j.kohsuke.org/
*Copy generated Java artifacts into your workspace or create a JAR of these and use after adding it into application classpath.
*Use following snippet to invoke generated COM APIs from Java and convert first sheet of specified Excel file to PDF (Replace accordingly on your computer the paths mentioned in the following snippet for Excel and PDF files):
public static void main(String[] args) throws Exception {
_Application excelApplication = ClassFactory.createApplication();
_Workbook workbook = excelApplication
.workbooks()
.open("C:\\Users\\Akki\\Desktop\\MyExcel.xlsx",
null, null, null, null,
null, null, null,
null, null, null, null, null,
null, null, 0);
workbook.exportAsFixedFormat(XlFixedFormatType.xlTypePDF, "C:\\Users\\Akki\\Desktop\\MyPDF.pdf", null, null, null, null, null, null, null);
workbook.close(false, null,null, 0);
excelApplication.quit();
System.out.println("Converted Excel to PDF!"); }
Cheers,
Akshay
| {
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{"url":"https:\/\/scriptinghelpers.org\/questions\/30070\/how-can-i-prevent-a-callback-from-yielding","text":"Still have questions? Join our Discord server and get real time help.\n2\n\n# How can I prevent a callback from yielding?\n\neLunate 5112\n4 years ago\n\nSo, because I develop Valkyrie I have to consider all of the consequences of allowing external code and callbacks. One of the issues I've run into is that I have a callback which can be run before events to cancel them, but the callback mustn't yield so that the event connections can be fired off at the same time as the event is fired off.\n\nHow am I able to detect if a function would yield in this case, without having to actually wait through a yield? My original thoughts were to use pcall, but I've been told that pcall was changed a while ago to accept yielding just as ypcall did.\n\nAs a side note, using it as a callback for a C function has been considered however I need the returns from the callbacks to be returned back through the source function. Tricky.\n\n0\nI know how to use coroutines but I don't see the usefulness in this case where I need the callback to be a blocking action. eLunate 5112 \u2014 4y\n0\nyou went to school right? then you should know the answer x_adams 4 \u2014 1y\n\n1\nBlueTaslem 17978\n4 years ago\n\nYou can use a C callback to prevent yields, but still get return values. Something like this:\n\nfunction noyield(f)\nlocal t = {1, 2}\nlocal r\npcall(function()\ntable.sort(t, function()\nr = {f()}\nend)\nend)\nif type(r) == \"table\" then\nreturn unpack(r)\nend\nend\n\n\nUnfortunately, if f calls wait() or one of it's friends, you'll get an error message after ROBLOX tries to resume it. This doesn't actually affect the script as far as I can tell, but might be clutter in the output you don't want.\n\n00:04:44.804 - cannot resume non-suspended coroutine 00:04:44.804 - Script 'ServerScriptService.Script', Line 18 - upvalue f 00:04:44.805 - Script 'ServerScriptService.Script', Line 6 00:04:44.805 - Script 'ServerScriptService.Script', Line 5 00:04:44.805 - Stack End\n\nEDIT: I consider the second error message to be a bug, and have reported it to ROBLOX. Hopefully it will eventually be fixed.\n\n0\nI ideally didn't want to use a wrapper function, but it's better than the alternative where I use metamethods to do it. Plus I don't think there's any other way. The clutter isn't an issue as I can just echo it all out. eLunate 5112 \u2014 4y","date":"2020-10-31 18:31:35","metadata":"{\"extraction_info\": {\"found_math\": true, \"script_math_tex\": 0, \"script_math_asciimath\": 0, \"math_annotations\": 0, \"math_alttext\": 0, \"mathml\": 0, \"mathjax_tag\": 0, \"mathjax_inline_tex\": 0, \"mathjax_display_tex\": 0, \"mathjax_asciimath\": 1, \"img_math\": 0, \"codecogs_latex\": 0, \"wp_latex\": 0, \"mimetex.cgi\": 0, \"\/images\/math\/codecogs\": 0, \"mathtex.cgi\": 0, \"katex\": 0, \"math-container\": 0, \"wp-katex-eq\": 0, \"align\": 0, \"equation\": 0, \"x-ck12\": 0, \"texerror\": 0, \"math_score\": 0.20618009567260742, \"perplexity\": 1676.306189500694}, \"config\": {\"markdown_headings\": true, \"markdown_code\": true, \"boilerplate_config\": {\"ratio_threshold\": 0.18, \"absolute_threshold\": 10, \"end_threshold\": 15, \"enable\": true}, \"remove_buttons\": true, \"remove_image_figures\": true, \"remove_link_clusters\": true, \"table_config\": {\"min_rows\": 2, \"min_cols\": 3, \"format\": \"plain\"}, \"remove_chinese\": true, \"remove_edit_buttons\": true, \"extract_latex\": true}, \"warc_path\": \"s3:\/\/commoncrawl\/crawl-data\/CC-MAIN-2020-45\/segments\/1603107922411.94\/warc\/CC-MAIN-20201031181658-20201031211658-00543.warc.gz\"}"} | null | null |
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Professor of Engineering Practice and Director of Information Technology Program
(Open Rank) Lecturer of Information Technology
Posted: 03-Oct-22
Internal Number: REQ20123909
The University of Southern California, one of the nation's top research universities, seeks outstanding candidates for the position of Director of the Information Technology Program (http://itp.usc.edu) in the USC Viterbi School of Engineering (http://viterbischool.usc.edu). This is a full-time, non-tenured, benefits-eligible teaching faculty position at a senior level with administrative responsibilities. We are seeking candidates who are committed to excellence in teaching and who are willing to engage and include students from a wide range of disciplines and cultural backgrounds. The USC Viterbi School is committed to increasing the diversity of its faculty and welcomes applications from women; individuals of African, Hispanic, and Native American descent; veterans; and individuals with disabilities.
Competitive candidates will have an outstanding record of experience and knowledge in diverse areas of information technology; a strong commitment to excellence in teaching, curriculum development, and engineering education; effective management and interpersonal skills; and scholarly, technical, and/or pedagogical achievements that meet the requirements for appointment at the Associate Professor of Practice or Professor of Practice faculty rank. A Master's or higher degree in a STEM-related field is required, although a Ph.D. or equivalent terminal degree in a STEM-related field is preferred.
In addition to teaching, the primary responsibilities of this position include but are not limited to the following: oversight of existing minors and development of new minors; curriculum development; recruitment and advisement of students; liaison activities with academic units, schools, and centers on campus as well as local professional entities off campus; specialized co-curricular student opportunities; and coordination by the Program in identifying, recruiting, and selecting instructors for ITP courses.Â
The position is available as early as Spring or Summer 2023. Interested candidates should visit https://itp.usc.edu/jobs/ to apply. Applications should include a cover letter; curriculum vitae detailing educational background, accomplishments, and experience; a two-page teaching statement that describes teaching philosophy, areas of expertise, and mentoring; a two-page administrative statement that describes thoughts on leadership, vision, and administrative style; a two-page statement on fostering an environment of diversity and inclusion; and contact information for at least four professional references. To receive full consideration, all materials should be received by December 1, 2022; applications received after this deadline might not be considered
The annual base salary range for this position is $125,000 - $160,000. When extending an offer of employment, the University of Southern California considers factors such as (but not limited to) the scope of responsibilities of the position, the candidate's work experience, education/training, key skills, internal peer equity, federal, state and local laws, contractual stipulations, grant funding, as well as external market and organizational considerations.Â
The Information Technology Program (ITP) is an academic unit in the USC Viterbi School of Engineering. Its 17 full-time and over 30 part-time teaching faculty, and its 5 staff, have built a collaborative community that is passionate about teaching and working with students. ITP provides engineering education to thousands of students from many majors both within the Viterbi School and throughout the University, helping to guide students toward technical interests and career paths. The program offers courses and minors in areas including: artificial intelligence applications; applied analytics; blockchain; cloud computing; connected devices and making; cybersecurity and digital forensics; digital entrepreneurship; enterprise information systems; programming; video game production and programming, 3D computer graphics, and technical game art; and web and mobile development. ITP's award-winning faculty also work on initiatives such as increasing diversity in engineering, outreach to underserved communities, accessibility in technology, and technology for social impact.
The USC Viterbi School of Engineering is among the top tier engineering schools in the world. It counts 189 full-time tenured/tenure-track faculty members, 73 full-time teaching faculty and 51 full-time research faculty. It is home to the Information Sciences Institute, two National Science Foundation Engineering Research Centers and an Expedition in Computing Center, a Department of Energy EFRC (Energy Frontiers Research Center), and the Department of Homeland Security's first University Center of Excellence, CREATE. The School is affiliated with the Alfred E. Mann Institute for Biomedical Engineering, the Institute for Creative Technologies, and the USC Stevens Center for Innovation. Research expenditures typically exceed $210 million annually. The School was awarded an ASEE President's Award for its continuing efforts to "change the conversation" about engineering and develop a robust and diverse engineering pipeline nationally.
USC is committed to a vibrant and healthy work environment, being consistently honored as a "Great College to Work For" by the Chronicle of Higher Education. In addition to health, vision, and dental plans for employees, spouses/partners, and dependents, USC also provides services such as the Work Well Center, access to child care, and the Mindfulness program, as well as cultural events such as Visions and Voices. Deeply connected to the surrounding community, USC partners with local initiatives and encourages faculty to participate through programs such as Good Neighbors and CS@SC.
USC is an equal opportunity, affirmative action employer. All qualified applicants will receive consideration for employment without regard to race, color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity, national origin, protected veteran status, disability, or any other characteristic protected by law or USC policy. USC will consider for employment all qualified applicants with criminal histories in a manner consistent with the requirements of the Los Angeles Fair Chance Initiative for Hiring ordinance.
About University of Southern California (USC)
USC is the leading private research university in Los Angeles—a global center for arts, technology and international business. With more than 47,500 students, we are located primarily in Los Angeles but also in various US and global satellite locations. As the largest private employer in Los Angeles, responsible for $8 billion annually in economic activity in the region, we offer the opportunity to work in a dynamic and diverse environment, in careers that span a broad spectrum of talents and skills across a variety of academic and professional schools and administrative units. As a USC employee and member of the Trojan Family—the faculty, staff, students, and alumni who make USC a great place to work—you will enjoy excellent benefits, including a variety of well-being programs designed to help individuals achieve work-life balance.
Connections working at University of Southern California (USC)
https://careers.mobilegrowthassociation.com/jobs/17545124/professor-of-engineering-practice-and-director-of-information-technology-program
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Contact us at: info@mobilegrowthsummit.com | Privacy Policy | {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaCommonCrawl"
} | 9,752 |
Administrative entities
Committee of Ministers
Congress of Local and Regional Authorities
Commissioner for Human Rights
Conference of INGOs
Treaty Office
Theme files
CoE Institutions
Children's rights mainstreaming
Monitoring children's rights
Rome Launching Conference 2022
Steering Committee for the Rights of the Child
Lanzarote Committee
National human rights institutions
Civil society and Lanzarote Convention
18 November : End Child Sex Abuse Day
Other language versions
Child-friendly justice
The digital environment
Children and migration
Child-friendly healthcare
Child-friendly social services
Children and austerity
Co-operation projects
Other language resources
Legal standards
Child-friendly material
Audiovisual material
Democracy and Human Dignity
Kiko's exciting adventures continue in the digital age
Newsroom on Children's Rights
New Kiko and the Manymes video and storybook for young children are out!
Strasbourg 20 November 2020
The Council of Europe project to End Online Child Sexual Exploitation and [email protected] ([email protected]) is happy to announce the launch of the new adventures of our beloved character friend Kiko who is now discovering screens and the misuse of pictures in the online environment in the video and storybook of Kiko and the Manymes. It also features Pipa, Kiko's friend and confidant, the "magic whistle", Skrin and the Manymes, who misuse Kiko's pictures.
The objective of Kiko and the Manymes is twofold. Firstly, this campaign is addressed to adults, with a focus on parents and caregivers of children 4-7 years old, teaching them how to protect their children and avoid their exposure to phones with video and photo cameras or a webcam. Secondly, the experience of Kiko with screens in the book, which also present "the golden rules of screens", provide a basic set of rules to empower children to protect their privacy and their image in the online environment.
These awareness-raising tools are currently available in English and will be translated shortly in French and Spanish as well as in the 10 languages of the [email protected] Project beneficiary countries, in order to reach a wide audience.
Why this initiative?
1 in 3 internet users worldwide is a child. Numbers are on the rise. While information and communication technologies bring many benefits to children, they also put children at risk, including very young children.
The age of users and potential victims of abuse continues to lower, with very young children being more exposed to harm. Children as young as 2 are using internet-enabled devices via gaming, entertainment and educational games and children of 5 to 7 years of age are using in-game messaging, voice and text chats.
Young children are particularly exposed to child sexual abuse and exploitation online with 28% of victims being below the age of 11. Nude and semi-nude pictures of children are regularly posted online by adults.
In some cases, very young children are groomed, deceived or extorted into producing and sharing a sexual image or video of themselves, sometimes in the child's own room. This content may then be traded and exchanged, perpetuating a particularly pernicious form of child sexual exploitation and abuse which is on the rise. It is very difficult for victims to seek help and very challenging for law enforcement to identify the victims, prosecute the abusers and remove the content from the Internet.
Let's keep children safe! Come and discover more about Kiko's brand new adventure.
The Council of Europe gratefully acknowledges the financial support provided for this programme by the End Violence Fund.
Kiko and the Manymes Video
Kiko and the Manymes Storybook
Kiko and the Manymes Advice for Parents
Latest publications Latest publications
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Mobile version Desktop version | {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaCommonCrawl"
} | 3,635 |
Q: mexPrintf message doesn't show on matlab command window I started working with mex on matlab to build a c code and I wrote a very simple code (main.c) to begin with :
#include "stdio.h"
#include "stdlib.h"
#include "mex.h"
void main()
{
mexPrintf("Hello world");
}
when I type mex main.c in a matlab script everything goes well and I have this message : "Building with 'gcc'. MEX completed successfully." but I don't see the message "Hello world", I tried printf() too without success, does anyone know why the message doesn't appear on the matlab window please ?
Thanks in advance for your help.
-J
A: Your code, as it stands, is not compatible with Matlab. Matlab requires a special function definition for the 'main' function of compiled programs.
In order to run your code, you will need to have something like this:
#include "stdio.h"
#include "stdlib.h"
#include "mex.h"
void mexFunction( int nlhs, mxArray *plhs[],
int nrhs, const mxArray*prhs[] )
{
mexPrintf("Hello world\n");
}
Assuming that this is placed in a file entitled, 'helloWorld.c', you can run the following commands at the Matlab prompt:
mex helloWorld.c
helloWorld
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\section{Introduction and statement of the results}
Let $L = \{L_t, \, t\ge 0\}$ be a real strictly $\alpha-$stable L\'evy process, with characteristic exponent
\begin{equation}
\label{Norm}
\Psi(\lambda)\; =\;\log(\mathbb{E}[e^{{\rm i} \lambda L_1}])\; =\;-\; ({\rm i} \lambda)^\alpha e^{-{\rm i}\pi\alpha\rho\, {\rm sgn}(\lambda)}, \qquad \lambda\in\mathbb{R}.
\end{equation}
Above, $\alpha\in (0,2]$ is the self-similarity parameter and $\rho = \mathbb{P}[L_1\ge 0]$ is the positivity parameter. Recall that when $\alpha = 2,$ one has $\rho = 1/2$ and $\Psi(\lambda) = -\lambda^2,$ so that $L$ is a Brownian motion. When $\alpha = 1,$ one has $\rho\in (0,1)$ and $L$ is a Cauchy process with a linear drift. When $\alpha\in (0,1)\cup(1,2)$ the characteristic exponent reads
$$\Psi(\lambda) \; =\; \; -\; \kappa_{\alpha,\rho}\vert\lambda\vert^\alpha (1 - {\rm i}\beta\tan(\pi\alpha/2)\,{\rm sgn}(\lambda)),$$
where $\beta\in[-1,1]$ is the asymmetry parameter, whose connection with the positivity parameter is given by Zolotarev's formula:
$$\rho \; =\; \frac{1}{2} \,+ \,\frac{1}{\pi\alpha} \arctan(\beta\tan(\pi\alpha/2)),$$
and $\kappa_{\alpha,\rho} = \cos(\pi\alpha(\rho -1/2)) > 0$ is a scaling constant. We refer e.g. to Chapter VIII in \cite{B} for more details on this parametrization. One has $\rho \in [0,1]$ if $\alpha < 1$ and $\rho\in[1-1/\alpha, 1/\alpha]$ if $\alpha > 1.$ When $\alpha > 1, \rho = 1/\alpha$ or $\alpha < 1, \rho =0,$ the process $L$ has no positive jumps, whereas it has no negative jumps when $\alpha > 1, \rho = 1-1/\alpha$ or $\alpha < 1, \rho =1.$
Set ${\hat{L}} = -L$ for the dual process and ${\hat{\rho}} = 1-\rho$ for its positivity parameter. Throughout, it will be implicitly assumed that all quantities enhanced with a hat refer to the same quantities for the dual process, that is with $\rho$ and ${\hat{\rho}}$ switched. We denote by $\mathbb{P}_x$ the law of $L$ starting from $x\in\mathbb{R}.$ Introduce the harmonic measures
$$H_x(dy)\; =\; \mathbb{P}_x [L_T \in dy, \; T< \infty]\qquad \text{and}\qquad H_x^*(dy)\; =\; \mathbb{P}_x [L_{T^*} \in dy, \; T^*< \infty],$$
where $T= \inf\{ t > 0, \; \vert L_t \vert > 1\}$ and $T^* = \inf\{t>0,\; \vert L_t \vert < 1\}.$ Observe that by spatial homogeneity and the scaling relationship
\begin{equation}
\label{Sca}
\left( \{kL_t, \, t \ge 0\}, \mathbb{P}_x\right)\; \stackrel{d}{=}\; \left( \{L_{k^\alpha t}, \, t \ge 0\}, \mathbb{P}_{kx}\right), \qquad k >0,
\end{equation}
we can deduce from $H_x$ the expression of the harmonic measure of the complementary of any closed bounded interval, whereas the knowledge of $H_x^*$ gives that of the harmonic measure of any open bounded interval. Introduce the following notation
$$x_+\; =\; \max(x,0), \qquad c_{\alpha,\rho}\; =\; \frac{\sin (\pi\alpha\rho)}{\pi} \qquad\mbox{and}\qquad \psi_{\alpha,\rho}(t) \;= \; (t-1)^{\alpha{\hat{\rho}}-1}(t+1)^{\alpha\rho-1}.$$
In the remainder of this section it will be implicitly assumed that $L$ has jumps of both signs. The corresponding results where $L$ has one-sided jumps, which are simpler, will be briefly described in the last section.
\begin{THEA} (a) For any $x \in(-1, 1),$ the measure $H_x(dy)$ has density
$$h(x,y) \; =\; c_{\alpha,\rho} \,(1+x)^{\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}(1-x)^{\alpha\rho}(1+y)^{-\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}(y-1)^{-\alpha\rho}(y-x)^{-1}$$
\smallskip
\noindent
if $y > 1$ and $h(x,y) = {\hat h(-x,-y)}$ if $y <-1.$\\
(b) For any $x\in [-1,1]^c,$ the measure $H_x^*(dy)$ has density
$$h^*(x,y) \; =\; c_{\alpha,{\hat{\rho}}}\, (1+y)^{-\alpha\rho}(1-y)^{-\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}\left( (x+1)^{\alpha\rho}(x-1)^{\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}(x-y)^{-1} - (\alpha-1)_+ \!\int_1^x \!\psi_{\alpha,\rho}(t)\, dt\right)$$
if $x > 1,$ and $h^*(x,y) = {\hat h^*(-x,-y)}$ if $x <-1.$
\end{THEA}
In the symmetric case, these computations date back to \cite{BGR} - see Theorems A, B and C therein. Notice that the results of \cite{BGR}, which rely on Kelvin's transformation and the principle of unicity of potentials, deal with the more general rotation invariant stable processes on Euclidean space. In the general case, Part (a) of the above theorem was proved in Theorem 1 of \cite{Ro}, whereas Part (b) was recently obtained in Theorem 1 of \cite{KPW}. Both methods used in \cite{Ro} (coupled integral equations) and in \cite{KPW} (Lamperti's representation and the Wiener-Hopf factorization) are complicated. In this paper we show that the original method of \cite{BGR} works in the asymmetric case as well, thanks to elementary considerations on the hypergeometric function
$$\pFq{2}{1}{a,b}{c}{z}\; =\; \sum_{n\ge 0} \frac{(a)_n(b)_n}{(c)_n}\, z^n.$$
More precisely, we use three basic identities for the latter function, due respectively to Euler, Pfaff and Gauss, allowing to perform a simple potential analysis of the function
\begin{equation}
\label{Pho}
\varphi(t)\; =\; (1-t)^{-\alpha\rho}(1+t)^{-\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}
\end{equation}
and to obtain the required generalization of the key Lemma 3.1 in \cite{BGR}. \\
Define next the killed potential measures
$$G_x(dy)\; =\; \mathbb{E}_x\left[ \int_0^T {\bf 1}_{\{L_t\in dy\}} \,dt\right] \qquad \text{ and }\qquad G_x^*(dy)\; =\; \mathbb{E}_x\left[ \int_0^{T^*} {\bf 1}_{\{L_t\in dy\}} \,dt\right].$$
It is easy to see from the absolute continuity of the two killed semi-groups with respect to the original stable semigroup, that both these measures are absolutely continuous. We denote by $g(x,y)$ and $g^*(x,y)$ their respective densities on $(-1,1)$ and $[-1,1]^c,$ the so-called Green functions. These functions are of central interest because they allow to invert the stable infinitesimal generator on $(-1,1)$ and on $[-1,1]^c$ - see e.g. Formula (1.42) in \cite{BBKRSV} in the symmetric case. Observe that they are related to the harmonic measure and to the density of the L\'evy measure of $L$:
\begin{equation}
\label{Nu}
\nu(y)\; =\; \Ga(\alpha +1) \vert y\vert^{-\alpha-1}\left( c_{\alpha,\rho}{\bf 1}_{\{ y > 0\}} \, +\, c_{\alpha,{\hat{\rho}}}{\bf 1}_{\{ y < 0\}}\right),
\end{equation}
through the integral formul\ae
$$h(x,y)\; =\; \int_{(-1,1)} \! g(x,v) \nu(y-v)\, dv\qquad \mbox{resp.}\qquad h^*(x,y)\; =\; \int_{[-1,1]^c} \!g^*(x,v) \nu(y-v) \,dv$$
for all $x\in (-1,1)$ and $y \in [-1,1]^c$ resp. for all $x\in [-1,1]^c$ and $y \in (-1,1),$ which are both instances of a general formula by Ikeda-Watanabe - see Theorem 1 in \cite{IW}. For this reason, the density of the harmonic measure coincides with that of the Poisson kernel - see \cite{BBKRSV} pp. 16-17. The closed expression of the Poisson kernel and the Green function for $(-1,1)$ in the symmetric case, and more generally for the open unit ball in the rotation invariant case, are classic results dating back to Riesz \cite{Ri, Ri1}. We refer to \cite{BBKRSV} pp. 18-19 for more details and references, and to the whole monograph \cite{BBKRSV} for several extensions, all in the rotation invariant framework.
\begin{THEB} Set $z = z(x,y) = \left| \frac{1-xy}{x-y} \right|$ for every $x\neq y.$
\begin{enumerate}[$(a)$]
\item For every $x \in (-1 ,1),$ one has
$$g(x,y) \; =\; \frac{1}{\Ga(\alpha\rho)\Ga(\alpha{\hat{\rho}})}\, \left( \frac{y-x}{2}\right)^{\alpha-1}\int_1^z \psi_{\alpha,\rho}(t)\, dt$$
if $y \in(x,1),$ and $g(x,y) = {\hat g}(y,x)$ if $y\in (-1,x).$ \\
\item For every $x > 1,$ one has
$$g^*(x,y)\; =\; \frac{2^{1-\alpha}}{\Ga(\alpha\rho)\Ga(\alpha{\hat{\rho}})}\, \left( (y-x)^{\alpha-1}\int_1^z\psi_{\alpha,\rho}(t) dt \, -\, (\alpha-1)_+\int_1^x \psi_{\alpha,\rho}(t) dt\int_1^{y } \psi_{\alpha,{\hat{\rho}}}(t)\, dt\right)$$
if $y \in(x,\infty), g(x,y) = {\hat g}(y,x)$ if $y\in (1,x),$ and
$$g^*(x,y)\; =\; \frac{c_{\alpha,{\hat{\rho}}}\, 2^{1-\alpha}}{c_{\alpha,\rho}\,\Ga(\alpha\rho)\Ga(\alpha{\hat{\rho}})}\left( (x-y)^{\alpha-1}\!\int_1^z\!\psi_{\alpha,\rho}(t) dt - (\alpha-1)_+\!\int_1^x\! \psi_{\alpha,\rho}(t) \,dt\int_1^{\vert y\vert } \!\!\psi_{\alpha,\rho}(t)\, dt\right)$$
if $y <-1.$
\end{enumerate}
\end{THEB}
Observe that in Part (b) of the above result, the condition $x> 1$ is no restriction since by duality we have $g^*(x,y) = {\hat g^*}(-x,-y)$ for every $x <-1$ and $y\in [-1,1]^c.$ Part (a) was obtained as Corollary 4 of \cite{BGR} in the symmetric case, and as Theorem 1 of \cite{KW} in the general case. Part (b) was proved as Theorem 4 in \cite{KPW}, in the only cases $\alpha \le 1$ and $x,y > 1.$ The methods of \cite{KPW, KW}, relying on the Lamperti transformation and an analysis of the reflected process, are complicated. In this paper, we observe that all formul\ae \, of Theorem B can be quickly obtained from the D\'esir\'e Andr\'e equation and one of the two simple lemmas leading to the proof of Theorem A. \\
The explicit knowledge of the Green function has a number of classical consequences. In this paper we will focus on two of them. The first one deals, in the relevant case $ \alpha > 1,$ with the hitting probability $\rho(x,y) = \mathbb{P}_x [T_y < T],$ where $T_{y} = \inf\{ t > 0, \, L_t =y\}.$
\begin{CORA} Assume $\alpha > 1$ and set $z = \left| \frac{1-xy}{x-y} \right|.$ For every $x, y \in (-1,1),$ one has
$$\rho(x,y) \; =\; (\alpha -1)\, \left( \frac{x-y}{1-y^2}\right)^{\alpha-1} \int_1^z \psi_{\alpha, {\hat{\rho}}} (t)\, dt$$
if $x > y,$ and $\rho(x,y)= {\hat \rho}(-x,-y)$ if $x < y.$
\end{CORA}
Observe that the above formula extends by continuity on the diagonal, with the expected property that $\mathbb{P}_x[T_x < T] = 1.$ Of course, this follows from the fact that $\{x\}$ is regular for $x$ in the case $\alpha > 1.$ When $\alpha \to 2,$ Corollary 1 amounts to the very standard Brownian formula
$$\mathbb{P}_x[T_y < T_1] \; =\; \frac{1-x}{1-y}\cdot$$
By the Markov property, one can deduce from Corollary 1 the harmonic measure of the set $\{y\}\, \cup \,[-1,1]^c.$ Using one of our three hypergeometric identities, it is also possible to derive the asymptotic behaviour of $\mathbb{P}_x [T_y<T]$ when $x\to y,$ which is fractional. Last, by spatial homogeneity and scaling, we can quickly recover the statement of Theorem 1.5 in \cite{KPW}. See Remark 6 below for more detail. \\
We next consider non-negative harmonic functions on $(-1,1),$ which are the non-negative solutions to
$$\cL_{\alpha, \rho} u \; \equiv\; 0$$
on $(-1,1),$ where $\cL_{\alpha,\rho}$ is the infinitesimal generator of $L$. As in the Brownian case, an equivalent characterization - see e.g. \cite{BBKRSV} p. 20 in the symmetric case - is the mean-value property, which reads $\mathbb{E}_x[u(L_{\tau_U})] = u(x)$ for every open set $U$ whose closure belongs to $(-1,1),$ where $\tau_U = \inf\{ t > 0,\, L_t\not\in U\}.$
\begin{CORB} The non-negative harmonic functions on $(-1,1)$ which vanish on $[-1,1]^c$ are of the type
$$x\; \mapsto\;\lambda (1-x)^{\alpha\rho}(1+x)^{\alpha{\hat{\rho}} -1} \; +\; \mu (1+x)^{\alpha{\hat{\rho}}} (1-x)^{\alpha\rho-1}$$
with $\lambda, \mu \ge 0.$
\end{CORB}
This result might be already known - compare e.g. with Theorem 10 p.569 in \cite{Si}, although we could not find it written down explicitly in the literature. Recall that in order to obtain all non-negative harmonic functions on $(-1,1)$, one needs - see e.g. Theorem 2.6 in \cite{BBKRSV} in the symmetric case - to add to the above functions the integral of the Poisson kernel $h(x,y)$ along some suitably integrable measure on $[-1,1]^c.$ \\
Both Corollaries 1 and 2 could be obtained for the process killed inside the interval $(-1,1),$ with analogous computations relying on Part (b) of Theorem B. But the formul\ae \, have a rather lengthy aspect, so that we prefer leaving them to the interested reader. The remainder of the paper is as follows. In the three next sections we prove Theorem A, Theorem B, and the two Corollaries. In the last section we gather, for the sake of completeness, the corresponding formul\ae\, in the cases of semi-finite intervals and of one-sided jumps.
\section{Proof of Theorem A}
As mentioned in the introduction, the argument hinges upon three classical hypergeometric identities, to be found in Theorem 2.2.1, Formula (2.2.6) and Formula (2.3.12) of \cite{AAR}, and which will be henceforth referred to as Euler, Pfaff and Gauss\footnote{among of course many others. This one is a simple consequence of the two-dimensional structure of the space of solutions to the hypergeometric equation. Notice that it can also be obtained by Mellin-Barnes inversion. See the end of the article {\em Calculs asymptotiques} in Encyclopedia Universalis.} formula respectively.
\subsection{Proof of Part (b)}
\subsubsection{The case $\alpha < 1$.} We reason along the same lines as in Theorem B of \cite{BGR}. Set $p_t(x)$ for the transition density of $L.$ The following computation, left to the reader, is a well-known consequence of (\ref{Norm}), Fourier inversion and the Fresnel integral: one has
$$\int_0^\infty p_t(z)\, dt\; =\; \Ga(1-\alpha)\, c_{\alpha,\rho} \, z^{\alpha -1}$$
for every $z > 0.$ Observe that by duality, one also has
$$\int_0^\infty p_t(z)\, dt\; =\; \int_0^\infty {\hat p}_t(-z)\, dt\; =\; \Ga(1-\alpha) \, c_{\alpha,{\hat{\rho}}} \, \vert z\vert^{\alpha -1}$$
for every $z < 0.$ Applying the D\'esir\'e Andr\'e equation (2.1) in \cite{BGR} and letting $s\to 0$ therein shows that
\begin{equation}
\label{Abel1}
\int_{-1}^1 u(t,y) \, H_x^*(dt) \; =\; c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}}\, \vert x-y\vert^{\alpha -1} \end{equation}
for every $x > 1$ and $y\in (-1,1),$ where we have set
$$u(t,y)\; =\; \left( c_{\a,\rho}\, {\bf 1}_{\{y > t\}} + c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}} \,{\bf 1}_{\{y < t\}} \right) \vert t-y\vert^{\alpha -1}.$$
In the symmetric case, this Abelian integral equation with constant boundary terms is solved in Section 3 of \cite{BGR}, following the method of \cite{Ri}. See also \cite{C} for the original solution, with a more general term on the left-hand side. After proving the following lemma, which remains valid for $\alpha\in (1,2),$ we will see that the pole-seeking method of \cite{Ri} applies in the asymmetric case as well.
\begin{LEM} The unique positive measure on $(-1,1)$ satisfying
\begin{equation}
\label{Abel0}
\int_{-1}^1 {\hat u}(t,y) \, \mu(dt)\; = \; 1, \qquad y\in (-1,1)
\end{equation}
has the density $\varphi(t)$ given in {\em (\ref{Pho}).}
\end{LEM}
\proof The fact that there is a unique measure solution of (\ref{Abel0}) is a standard fact in potential theory - see e.g. Theorem 1 in \cite{P1} or Proposition VI.1.15 in \cite{BG}. In our concrete context, this unicity can also be obtained by a straightforward adaptation of Lemma 4.1 in \cite{BGR}. To show the lemma, we compute by a change of variable
\begin{eqnarray*}
\int_{-1}^1 {\hat u}(t,y) (1-t)^{-\alpha\rho}(1+t)^{-\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}\, dt & = & c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}}\int_{0}^{1+y} t^{\alpha-1}(1-y+t)^{-\alpha\rho}(1+y-t)^{-\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}\, dt\\
& & +\;\; c_{\a,\rho} \int_0^{1-y} t^{\alpha-1}(1-y-t)^{-\alpha\rho}(1+y+t)^{-\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}\,dt.
\end{eqnarray*}
Using two further changes of variable, the Euler formula, and the complement formula for the Gamma function, we transform the expression on the right-hand side into
$$\frac{\Ga(\alpha)}{\Ga(\alpha{\hat{\rho}})\Ga(1+\alpha\rho)} \left(\frac{1+y}{1-y}\right)^{\alpha\rho} \left( \pFq{2}{1}{\alpha\rho,\alpha}{1+\alpha\rho}{\frac{y+1}{y-1}}\; +\; \frac{\rho}{{\hat{\rho}}} \left(\frac{1-y}{1+y}\right)^\alpha \pFq{2}{1}{\alpha{\hat{\rho}},\alpha}{1+\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}{\frac{y-1}{y+1}}\right),$$
and then, using the notation
$$z\; =\; \frac{y+1}{y-1},$$
into
$$\frac{\Ga(\alpha) (-z)^{\alpha\rho}}{\Ga(\alpha{\hat{\rho}})\Ga(1+\alpha\rho)} \left( \pFq{2}{1}{\alpha, \alpha\rho}{1+\alpha\rho}{z}\; +\; \frac{\rho (-z)^{-\alpha}}{{\hat{\rho}}} \,\pFq{2}{1}{\alpha,\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}{1+\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}{\frac{1}{z}}\right)\; =\; 1,$$
\smallskip
\noindent
where the last equality follows from the Gauss formula.
\endproof
\begin{remark}The solution to (\ref{Abel0}) in the symmetric case was obtained in Lemma 3.1 of \cite{BGR}, via a reflection argument. Alternatively, the non-symmetric solution can be deduced in a constructive way, following the approach of \cite{Ri} pp. 41-42 or that of \cite{C}. Observe that the above argument is significantly shorter than in these three references.
\end{remark}
We can now finish the proof. Introduce the changes of variables
\begin{equation}\label{cov}
t \; =\; x \; + \; \frac{1-x^2}{x-s}\qquad\mbox{and}\qquad y \; =\; x \; + \; \frac{1-x^2}{x-z},
\end{equation}
and observe that they map $(-1,1)$ onto $(-1,1),$ in a decreasing way. Plugging these changes of variables into (\ref{Abel0}) implies after some computation that
$$(x+1)^{\alpha\rho}(x-1)^{\alpha{\hat{\rho}}} \, \int_{-1}^1 (1+s)^{-\alpha\rho}(1-s)^{-\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}(x-s)^{-1}\, u(s,z)\, ds\; =\; \vert x-z\vert^{\alpha -1}$$
for every $x > 1$ and $z\in (-1,1).$ Multiplying both sides by $c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}}$ shows the required solution to (\ref{Abel1}), which is unique by Lemma 1 and the changes of variables (\ref{cov}).
\hfill$\square$
\begin{remark}
In the following, we shall make a repeated use of the changes of variable (\ref{cov}), which may be written formally :
$$|1+x|^{\alpha\rho}|1-x|^{\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}\, \int |y-t| ^{\alpha-1} \frac{|1+t|^{-\alpha\rho}|t-1|^{-\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}}{|x-t|} \,dt \;=\;
|x-y|^{\alpha -1} \int |z-s|^{\alpha -1} \varphi(s) ds.$$
The interest of this change of variable is to transform an Abelian integral with two inside parameters into an integral of the hypergeometric type, with one parameter inside.
\end{remark}
\medskip
\subsubsection{The case $\alpha > 1$.} We follow the method of Theorem C in \cite{BGR}. Recall that since $L$ a.s. hits points in finite time, the measure $H^*_x(dt)$ has total mass one. We will need the evaluation
$$\int_0^\infty (p_t(z) - p_t(0))\, dt\; =\; \Ga(1-\alpha) \,c_{\a,\rho}\, z^{\alpha -1}$$
for every $z >0,$ which is easy and classical - see the introduction of \cite{P1}. This implies
$$\left(\int_0^\infty e^{-st} p_t(z) \, dt \; -\; p_1(0)\Ga(1- 1/\alpha) s^{\frac{1}{\alpha} -1}\right)\; \downarrow\; \Ga(1-\alpha) \,c_{\a,\rho}\, z^{\alpha -1}$$
as $s\to 0,$ for every $z >0.$ Proceeding as in \cite{BGR} pp. 544-545 shows that
\begin{equation}
\label{Abel2}
c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}}\, \vert x-y\vert^{\alpha -1} \; =\; \int_{-1}^1 u(t,y)\, H^*_x(dt) \; +\; \kappa_{\alpha,\rho}^* (x)
\end{equation}
for every $x > 1$ and $y\in (-1,1),$ where
$$\kappa_{\alpha,\rho}^*(x)\;=\; \frac{p_1(0) \Gamma(1-1/\alpha)}{\Gamma(1-\alpha)}\, \times\, \lim_{\lambda \rightarrow 0} \lambda^{1/\alpha-1} \left( \mathbb{E}_x\left[e^{-\lambda T^*}\right] - 1 \right)$$
is a non-negative function which will be determined in the same way as in (4.1) of \cite{BGR}. Multiplying both sides of (\ref{Abel2}) by $\varphi(y)$ and integrating on $(-1,1)$ shows by Lemma 1 that
$$\kappa_{\alpha,\rho}^* (x) \;= \; \left( \int_{-1}^1 \varphi(y)\, dy\right)^{-1}\lpac_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}} \int_{-1}^1 (x-y)^{\alpha -1}\varphi(y)\, dy\; -\; 1\right)$$
for every $x > 1.$ The next lemma, generalizing the second part of Lemma 3.1 in \cite{BGR}, allows to compute the right-hand side.
\begin{LEM}\label{lem:phi} With the above notation, one has
$$c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}}\, \int_{-1}^1 (x-y)^{\alpha -1}\varphi(y)\, dy\; =\; 1\; -\;\frac{\Ga(1-\alpha\rho)2^{1-\alpha}}{\Ga(\alpha{\hat{\rho}})\Ga(1-\alpha)}\; \int_1^x \psi_{\alpha,\rho}(t)\, dt$$
for every $x > 1.$
\end{LEM}
\proof As in Lemma 1, a change of variable and the Euler formula show first that
\begin{eqnarray*}
\sin (\pi\alpha{\hat{\rho}})\int_{-1}^1 (x-y)^{\alpha -1}\varphi(y)\, dy & = & \frac{\Ga(1-\alpha\rho)}{\Ga(\alpha{\hat{\rho}})\Ga(2-\alpha)}\left( \frac{x+1}{2}\right)^{\alpha-1} \!\!\pFq{2}{1}{1-\alpha,1-\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}{2-\alpha}{\frac{2}{x+1}}\\
& = & \frac{\Ga(1-\alpha\rho)}{\Ga(\alpha{\hat{\rho}})\Ga(2-\alpha)}\left( \frac{x-1}{2}\right)^{\alpha-1} \!\!\pFq{2}{1}{1-\alpha,1-\alpha\rho}{2-\alpha}{\frac{2}{1-x}},
\end{eqnarray*}
where the second equality follows from the Pfaff formula. Using now the Gauss formula, we next transform
$$(-z)^{\alpha-1} \pFq{2}{1}{1-\alpha,1-\alpha\rho}{2-\alpha}{\frac{1}{z}}\; =\;
\frac{\Ga(\alpha{\hat{\rho}})\Ga(2-\alpha)}{\Ga(1-\alpha\rho)}\; +\; \frac{(\alpha-1)}{\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}(-z)^{\alpha{\hat{\rho}}} \pFq{2}{1}{1-\alpha\rho,\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}{1+\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}{z}$$
with the notation $z= (1-x)/2.$ Putting everything together and applying again the Euler formula completes the proof.
\endproof
We can now finish the proof of the case $\alpha > 1$. From Lemma 2 and an easy computation, we first deduce
$$\kappa_{\alpha,\rho}^*(x)\; =\; c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}}\, 2^{\alpha -1}\,\frac{1}{\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}\left(\frac{x-1}{2}\right)^{\alpha{\hat{\rho}} }\!\! \pFq{2}{1}{1-\alpha\rho,\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}{1+\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}{\frac{1-x}{2}}.$$
Coming back to (\ref{Abel2}) and reasoning as in \cite{BGR} p.552, we finally see from Lemma 1 that $H_x^* (dy)$ has density
$$c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}}\, (x+1)^{\alpha\rho}(x-1)^{\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}(1+y)^{-\alpha\rho}(1-y)^{-\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}(x-y)^{-1} \; -\; \kappa_{\alpha,\rho}^*(x){\hat \varphi}(y).$$
To conclude the proof, it suffices to observe by the Euler formula and a change of variable that
\begin{eqnarray*}
\kappa_{\alpha,\rho}^*(x){\hat \varphi}(y) & =& c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}}\, (1+y)^{-\alpha\rho}(1-y)^{-\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}(\alpha-1)\, 2^{\alpha -1}\,\frac{1}{\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}\left(\frac{x-1}{2}\right)^{\alpha{\hat{\rho}} }\!\! \pFq{2}{1}{1-\alpha\rho,\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}{1+\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}{\frac{1-x}{2}}\\
& = & c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}}\, (1+y)^{-\alpha\rho}(1-y)^{-\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}\, (\alpha-1) \int_1^x \psi_{\alpha,\rho}(t)\, dt.
\end{eqnarray*}
\hfill$\square$
\begin{remark}
Since $\kappa_{\alpha, \rho}^* (x)$ is finite and positive, we can deduce from Karamata's Tauberian theorem that
$$\mathbb{P}_x[T^*>t]\;\sim\; - \frac{\Gamma(1-\alpha)\sin(\pi/\alpha)}{\pi p_1(0)} \, \kappa_{\alpha, \rho}^*(x) \,t^{1/\alpha-1}\qquad \mbox{as} \;t\to +\infty.$$
This asymptotic is given in Corollary 3 of \cite{BGR} in the symmetric case, and in Theorem 2 of \cite{P1} in the asymmetric case, with a more general formulation. Notice that $T^*$ has infinite expectation.
\end{remark}
\medskip
\subsubsection{The case $\alpha =1$.} This case is known to be more subtle from the computational point of view, because it involves logarithmic kernels. The transition density of $L_t$ is
$$p_t (x) \; =\; \frac{c_{1,\rho}\,t}{t^2 + 2tx \cos\pi\rho + x^2}\cdot$$
The process $L$ does not hit points a.s. but it is recurrent, so that $H_x^* (dt)$ has total mass one. After some computation, one finds
$$\int_0^\infty (p_t(1) - p_t (x))\, dt\; =\; c_{1,\rho}\,\log\vert x\vert .$$
See also \cite{P1} p.391. With this formula, it is possible to finish the proof as in the case $\alpha > 1,$ but the computations are lenghty and we hence prefer to invoke a simple argument relying on the Skorokhod topology. Fix $\rho \in (-1,1)$ and let $\alpha\downarrow 1.$ It follows from Corollary VII.3.6 in \cite{JS} that
$$\cL (L^{\alpha, \rho})\; \Rightarrow \; \cL (L^{1,\rho})$$
with obvious notation for $L^{1, \rho}$ and $L^{\alpha, \rho}$, and where $\Rightarrow$ means weak convergence in the classical Skorokhod space. Using Remark VI.3.8 and Proposition VI.2.12 in \cite{JS}, it is then easy to deduce that
$$L_T^{\alpha,\rho} \; \stackrel{d}{\longrightarrow}\; L_T^{1,\rho}.$$
The conclusion follows from pointwise convergence of the densities $h^*(x,y)$ as $\alpha\downarrow 1,$ and Scheff\'e's lemma.
\hfill$\square$
\begin{remark} The above argument relying on a.s. continuity for the Skorokhod topology will be used repeatedly in the sequel, under the denomination Skorokhod continuity argument.
\end{remark}
\smallskip
\subsection{Proof of Part (a)} By the Skorokhod continuity argument, it is enough to consider the case $\alpha\neq 1.$ Fixing $x \in (-1,1)$ and proceeding as in \cite{BGR} pp. 544-545, the harmonic measure $H_x(dt)$ is seen to be the unique solution of the equation
\begin{equation}
\label{Abel3}
u(x,y) \; =\; \int_{(-1,1)^c} u(t,y) \, H_x(dt)
\end{equation}
for every $y \in [-1,1]^c.$ In the case $\alpha < 1,$ this is indeed an immediate consequence of the Markov property, leading to the corresponding equation (\ref{Abel1}). And in the case $\alpha>1$, the well-known fact - see Lemma 4.1 in \cite{Ta} - that the tail distribution of $T$ is exponentially small at infinity implies that the perturbative term $\kappa_{\alpha,\rho}$ is zero in the corresponding equation (\ref{Abel2}). Define
$$\mu_x(dt) \; = \;
\begin{cases}
c_{\a,\rho}\, \hat{\varphi}(t)\, dt &\qquad \text{if }t\leq x,\\
c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}}\, \hat{\varphi}(t)\, dt &\qquad \text{if }t> x.\\
\end{cases}
$$
We shall deal with the two cases $y>1$ and $y<-1$ separately. \\
\noindent
$(i)$ Let $\nu\in (-1, x)$. Applying Lemma 1 with $\rho$ and ${\hat{\rho}}$ interchanged, we get
\begin{align*}
&c_{\a,\rho}\int_{-1}^\nu |\nu-t|^{\alpha-1}\mu_x(dt)\, + \,c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}} \int_{\nu}^x |\nu-t|^{\alpha-1}\mu_x(dt)\,+\,c_{\a,\rho}\int_{x}^1 |\nu-t|^{\alpha-1}\mu_x(dt)\\
&\qquad =\;c_{\a,\rho} \left(\int_{-1}^\nu c_{\a,\rho} |\nu-t|^{\alpha-1} \hat{\varphi}(t) dt \, + \,\int_\nu^{1} c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}} |\nu-t|^{\alpha-1} \hat{\varphi}(t) dt\right)\;=\;c_{\a,\rho} .
\end{align*}
The changes of variable (\ref{cov}) implies after some rearrangement
$$\int_{[-1,1]^c} \vert y-t\vert^{\alpha-1}\, H_x(dt) \; =\;c_{\a,\rho}(y-x)^{\alpha-1}$$
for every $y > 1$ with the required expression for $H_x(dt),$ which is Equation (\ref{Abel3}). \\
\noindent
$(ii)$ Take now $\nu \in (x, 1)$. Applying again Lemma 1, we have
\begin{align*}
&c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}}\int_{-1}^x |\nu-t|^{\alpha-1}\mu_x(dt)\, + \,c_{\a,\rho} \int^{\nu}_x |\nu-t|^{\alpha-1}\mu_x(dt)\,+\,c_{\a,\rho}\int_{\nu}^1 |\nu-t|^{\alpha-1}\mu_x(dt)\\
&\qquad =\;c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}} \left(\int_{-1}^\nu c_{\a,\rho} |\nu-t|^{\alpha-1} \hat{\varphi}(t) dt \, + \,\int_\nu^{1} c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}} |\nu-t|^{\alpha-1} \hat{\varphi}(t) dt\right)\;=\;c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}}.
\end{align*}
The same changes of variables (\ref{cov}) gives
$$\int_{[-1,1]^c} \vert y-t\vert^{\alpha-1}\, H_x(dt) \; =\;c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}}(x-y)^{\alpha-1}$$
for every $y < -1,$ which is again Equation (\ref{Abel3}).
\hfill$\square$
\begin{remark} (a) The behaviour at infinity of the distribution function of $T$ is more mysterious than that of $T^*$. In the non-subordinator case it is known - see Proposition VIII.3 in \cite{B} - that there exists $\kappa_x$ positive and finite such that
$$-\log \mathbb{P}_x [T > t]\; \sim\; -\kappa_x t\qquad \mbox{as $t\to +\infty,$}$$
but the exact value of $\kappa_x$ is unknown except in the completely asymmetric case - see \cite{B1}. We refer to Chapter 4 in \cite{BBKRSV} for more on this topic in the rotation invariant case. Notice that the result of Theorem B (a) allows to compute the expectation of $T$:
$$\mathbb{E}_x[T]\; =\; \int_{-1}^1 g(x,y)\, dy\; =\; \frac{(1-x)^{\alpha \rho}(1+x)^{\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}}{\Gamma(\alpha+1)}\cdot$$
\medskip
(b) With our computations, we can also check the values of the total masses $H_x(-1,1)^c$ and $H^*_x(-1,1).$ On the one hand, Lemma 1 and the change of variables (\ref{cov}) imply
$$\int_{(-1,1)^c} H_x(dt)\; =\; c_{\a,\rho} \int_{-1}^x (x-z)^{\alpha-1} \hat{\varphi}(z)dz\; +\; c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}} \int_{x}^1 (z-x)^{\alpha-1} \hat{\varphi}(z)dz \; = \; 1.$$
On the other hand, in the case $\alpha >1,$ (\ref{cov}) and Lemma 2 show that
\begin{eqnarray*}
\int_{-1}^1 H_x^*(dt) &= &c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}} \int_{-1}^1 (x-z)^{\alpha-1} \varphi(z)\,dz\; -\; \kappa_{\alpha,\rho}^*(x)\int_{-1}^1 \hat{\varphi}(y)\,dy\\
&= &1 \; -\;\left(\frac{\Ga(1-\alpha\rho)2^{1-\alpha}}{\Ga(\alpha{\hat{\rho}})\Ga(1-\alpha)} \;+\; (\alpha-1)\,c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}}\int_{-1}^1 \hat{\varphi}(y)dy\right) \int_1^x \psi_{\alpha,\rho}(t) dt\;=\;1,
\end{eqnarray*}
because
$$\int_{-1}^1 \hat{\varphi}(y)dy \;=\; 2^{1-\alpha}\, {\rm B}(1-\alpha\rho, 1-\alpha{\hat{\rho}}) \;=\; \frac{ 2^{1-\alpha} \Gamma(1-\alpha\rho)}{(1-\alpha)c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}} \Gamma(\alpha{\hat{\rho}})\Gamma(1-\alpha)}\cdot$$
In the case $\alpha =1$, the measure $H_x^*$ has also total mass one by continuity. In the case $\alpha < 1,$ we find
$$\int_{-1}^1 H_x^*(dt)\; =\; 1 - \mathbb{P}_x[T^* = \infty] \; =\; 1 \; -\;\frac{\Ga(1-\alpha\rho)2^{1-\alpha}}{\Ga(\alpha{\hat{\rho}})\Ga(1-\alpha)}\,\int_1^x \psi_{\alpha,\rho}(t) dt,$$
in accordance with Corollary 2 of \cite{BGR} and Corollary 1.2 of \cite{KPW}.
\end{remark}
\section{Proof of Theorem B}
\subsection{Proof of Part (a)} It is enough to consider the case $y >x,$ the case $x >y$ following from Hunt's switching identity - see e.g. Theorem II.5 in \cite{B}. By the Skorokhod continuity argument, it is also enough to consider $\alpha \neq 1.$ Reasoning as above, the D\'esir\'e Andr\'e equation yields
\begin{eqnarray*}
g(x,y) & = & c_\alpha\left( c_{\a,\rho}\, (y-x)^{\alpha -1}\; - \; \int_{(-1,1)^c} u(t,y) H_x(dt)\right)\\
&= &c_\alpha\left( c_{\a,\rho} (y-x)^{\alpha -1} - c_{\a,\rho} \int_{-\infty}^{-1} (y-t)^{\alpha -1} H_x(dt) - c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}}\int_{1}^{+\infty} (t-y)^{\alpha -1} H_x(dt)\right)
\end{eqnarray*}
with $c_\alpha = \Ga(1-\alpha).$ Changing the variable as in (\ref{cov}), we deduce
\begin{eqnarray*}
g(x,y) & = & \Ga(1-\alpha)\, c_{\a,\rho}\,(y-x)^{\alpha -1} \left( 1\,-\, c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}} \int_{-1}^1 (z+t)^{\alpha-1} \hat{\varphi}(t) dt\right)\\
&= & \Ga(1-\alpha)\,c_{\a,\rho}\,(y-x)^{\alpha -1} \left( 1\,- \,c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}} \int_{-1}^1 (z-s)^{\alpha-1} \varphi(s) ds\right)
\end{eqnarray*}
and the result follows from Lemma 2, since $z > 1.$
\hfill$\square$
\subsection{Proof of Part (b) in the case $\alpha < 1$}
\subsubsection{The case $y>1$} Hunt's switching identity shows again that it is enough to consider the case $y > x.$ As above, the D\'esir\'e Andr\'e equation and the change of variable (\ref{cov}) imply
\begin{eqnarray*}
g^*(x,y) & = & \Ga(1-\alpha) \,c_{\a,\rho} \left((y-x)^{\alpha -1}\, -\, \int_{-1}^{1} (y-t)^{\alpha -1} H_x^*(dt) \right)\\
& = & \Ga(1-\alpha) \,c_{\a,\rho} \,(y-x)^{\alpha -1}\left( 1 \, -\, c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}}\int_{-1}^1 (z-u)^{\alpha-1} \varphi(u) du \right)
\end{eqnarray*}
with $z > x > 1,$ and we can conclude by Lemma \ref{lem:phi}.
\subsubsection{The case $y<-1$} Still using (\ref{cov}), we now have
\begin{eqnarray*}
g^*(x,y) & = & \Ga(1-\alpha) \,c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}} \left((x-y)^{\alpha -1}\,-\, \int_{-1}^{1} (t-y)^{\alpha -1} H_x^*(dt) \right)\\
& = & \Ga(1-\alpha) \,c_{\a, {\hat{\rho}}} \,(x-y)^{\alpha -1}\left( 1\, -\, \int_{-1}^1 (z-u)^{\alpha-1} \varphi(u) du\right)
\end{eqnarray*}
with $z \in (1,x),$ and we again conclude by Lemma \ref{lem:phi}.
\hfill$\square$
\subsection{Proof of Part (b) in the case $\alpha>1$.} We only consider the case $y > x.$ The case $x > y > 1$ is obtained by Hunt's switching identity and the case $y < -1$ by analogous computations. Proceeding as for Equation (\ref{Abel2}), we first deduce
$$g^*(x,y)\;=\; \Ga(1-\alpha)\, c_{\a,\rho}\, \left((y-x)^{\alpha -1} - \int_{-1}^{1} (y-t)^{\alpha -1} H_x^*(dt) \right) \, -\, \Gamma(1-\alpha)\kappa_{\alpha, \rho}^*(x).$$
Using Theorem 1 and the computations of the case $\alpha<1$, the expression may be transformed into
$$\frac{1}{\Ga(\alpha\rho)\Ga(\alpha{\hat{\rho}})} \left(\frac{y-x}{2}\right)^{\alpha-1} \int_1^{z} \psi_{\alpha,\rho} (t)\, dt\; -\; \Ga(1-\alpha)\,\kappa_{\alpha, \rho}^*(x) \left( 1\, -\, c_{\a,\rho} \int_{-1}^1 (y-t)^{\alpha -1}\hat{\varphi}(t)dt\right).$$
The result follows from the hat version of Lemma 2 and the expression of $\kappa_{\alpha, \rho}^*(x).$
\hfill$\square$
\section{Proof of the Corollaries}
\subsection{Proof of Corollary 1} By duality, it is enough to consider the case $x > y.$ From Part (a) of Theorem B and a change of variable, we see that $g(x,y)$ extends by continuity on the diagonal, with
$$g(y,y)\; =\; \frac{1}{(\alpha-1)\Ga(\alpha\rho)\Ga(\alpha{\hat{\rho}})} \left( \frac{1-y^2}{2}\right)^{\alpha -1}.$$
Moreover, it is clear that $g$ vanishes on the boundary $\{\vert x\vert =1\}\cup\{ \vert y\vert =1\}$ and is hence bounded on $(-1,1)\times(-1,1).$ By Proposition VI.4.11, Exercise VI.4.18 and Formula V.3.16 in \cite{BG}, we deduce
$$\mathbb{P}_x[T_y < T]\; =\; \frac{g(x,y)}{g(y,y)}$$
and the conclusion follows by Theorem B.
\hfill$\square$
\begin{remark} (a) In the case $\alpha \le 1,$ the process $L$ does not hit points, so that the problem is irrelevant. In general, one can ask for an evaluation of the probability
$\mathbb{P}_x[ T_I < T]$ where $I$ is a closed subinterval of $(-1,1)$ not containing $x,$ and $T_I$ is its first hitting time. In the transient case $\alpha < 1,$ this problem is solved theoretically as a particular instance of the so-called condenser problem - see Formula (3.4) in \cite{CK}. It is an interesting open problem to find out an explicit formula in the real stable framework.\\
(b) By the Markov property, we can write down the following expression for the harmonic measure $H^{\{y\}}_x(dt)$ of the set $\{y\}\,\cup\,[-1,1]^c:$
\begin{equation}
\label{Harmy}
H^{\{y\}}_x(dt)\; =\; \rho(x,y)(\delta_{\{y\}}(dt) - H_y(dt))\; +\; H_x(dt).
\end{equation}
In particular, for every $x,y\in (-1,1),$ one has
$$\mathbb{P}_x [L_T \in dt, \, T < T_y]\; =\; H_x(dt) -\rho(x,y) H_y(dt).$$
\medskip
(c) It is interesting to mention that using the Gauss formula, we can deduce the asymptotic behaviour of $\mathbb{P}_x[T_y > T]$ when $x\to y,$ which is fractional. For instance, if $y = 0,$ one has
$$\mathbb{P}_x[T_0 > T]\, \mathop{\sim}_{x\rightarrow 0+}\, \frac{\Ga(2-\alpha)\Ga(\alpha\rho)}{\Ga(1-\alpha{\hat{\rho}})}\, (2x)^{\alpha-1}\quad \mbox{and}\quad \mathbb{P}_x[T_0 > T]\, \mathop{\sim}_{x\rightarrow 0-}\, \frac{\Ga(2-\alpha)\Ga(\alpha{\hat{\rho}})}{\Ga(1-\alpha\rho)}\, \vert 2x\vert^{\alpha-1}.$$
\medskip
(d) By (\ref{Sca}) and spatial homogeneity, it is easy to deduce from Corollary 1 the following expression of ${\tilde \rho}(x,y) = \mathbb{P}_x [T_y < \tau]$ where $\tau = \inf\{t > 0, \, L_t > 1\}:$ one finds
$${\tilde \rho}(x,y) \; =\; (\alpha-1) \left| \frac{x-y}{1-y}\right|^{\alpha -1} \int_0^{\left|\frac{1-x}{x-y}\right|} t^{\alpha\rho -1} (t+1)^{\alpha{\hat{\rho}} -1}\, dt$$
if $x > y,$ and ${\tilde \rho}(x,y) = {\hat {\tilde \rho}}(-x,-y)$ if $x < y.$ When $y= 0,$ this is Theorem 1.5 in \cite{KPW}, correcting a misprint (the $1-1/x$ in the second integral should be $-1/x$) therein. Notice that Corollary 1.6 in \cite{KPW} is also analogously recovered from (\ref{Harmy}).
\end{remark}
\medskip
\subsection{Proof of Corollary 2} By the general theory of Martin boundary - see e.g. Theorem 1 in \cite{KuW}, we need to compute the Martin kernels
$$M_1(x)\; =\; \lim_{y \to 1} \,\frac{g(x,y)}{g(0,y)}\qquad \mbox{and}\qquad M_{-1} (x) \; =\; \lim_{y \to -1} \,\frac{g(x,y)}{g(0,y)}\cdot$$
Part (a) of Theorem B and a straightforward asymptotic analysis show that these Martin kernels exist and equal respectively
$$M_1(x)\; =\; (1-x)^{\alpha\rho -1}(1+x)^{\alpha{\hat{\rho}}}\qquad\mbox{and}\qquad M_{-1}(x)\; =\; (1+x)^{\alpha{\hat{\rho}} -1}(1-x)^{\alpha\rho},$$
whence the result. \hfill$\square$
\section{Final remarks}
In this section, we briefly describe the analogues of the above results in the case of semi-finite intervals and in the spectrally one-sided situation.
\subsection{The case of semi-finite intervals} By scaling and spatial homogeneity, one can deduce from Theorem A - either its Part (a) or its Part (b) - the following expression of the density of $L_{\tau}$ under $\mathbb{P}_{x},$ where $x <1$ and $\tau =\inf\{ t >0, \, L_t > 1\}.$ One finds
$$f_{L_{\tau}} (y)\, =\,\frac{c_{\a,\rho}(1-x)^{\alpha\rho}}{(y-1)^{\alpha\rho}(y-x)}\cdot$$
This expression has been found by several authors and can be obtained in different ways (see Exercise VIII.3 in \cite{B} and the references therein). Observe that it serves as a starting formula in \cite{Ro} in order to prove Part (a) of Theorem A. Notice last that the expression extends to the case with no negative jumps, by the Skorokhod continuity argument. In the relevant case with no positive jumps $\alpha > 1, \rho = 1/\alpha,$ the law of $L_\tau$ is a Dirac mass at one.
The Green function is
$$g_\tau(x,y) \; =\; \frac{(y-x)^{\alpha-1}}{\Ga(\alpha\rho)\Ga(\alpha{\hat{\rho}})}\, \int_0^{\frac{1-y}{y-x}} \psi_{\alpha,\rho}(t)\, dt$$
if $x < y < 1$ and $g_\tau(x,y) = {\hat g}_\tau(y,x)$ if $y < x <1.$ In the case $\alpha > 1,$ the analogue of Corollary 1 which is already given in Remark 6 (d) above, can then be recovered. Finally, one finds that the non-negative harmonic functions vanishing on $(1,+\infty)$ are of the type
$$\lambda (1-x)^{\alpha\rho} \,+\, \mu(1-x)^{\alpha\rho -1}$$
with $\lambda, \mu \ge 0,$ in accordance with Theorem 4 in \cite{Si} and the paragraph thereafter.
\subsection{The case of stable processes with one-sided jumps} By duality, it is enough to consider the two cases $\alpha < 1, \rho =1$ and $\alpha > 1, \rho = 1/\alpha.$
\subsubsection{The case $\alpha < 1, \rho =1$} It follows readily from the above paragraph that
$$h(x,y) \; =\; \frac{c_{\alpha,1}(1-x)^{\alpha}}{(y-1)^{\alpha}(y-x)}\,{\bf 1}_{\{y >1\}}$$
for all $x\in (-1,1).$ See also Example 3 in \cite{IW} and the references therein for the expression of the density of $(L_{T-}, L_T)$ under $\mathbb{P}_x.$ Similarly, one has
$$h^*(x,y) \; =\; \frac{c_{\alpha,1}\vert 1+x\vert^{\alpha}}{(1+y)^{\alpha}(y-x)}\,{\bf 1}_{\{ |y|<1 \}}$$
for all $ x < -1$ and $h^*(x,y) = 0$ for all $x > 1.$ In accordance with the fact that $L$ is a subordinator, the Green function is
$$g(x,y) \; =\; \frac{(y-x)^{\alpha-1}}{\Ga(\alpha)} \, {\bf 1}_{\{x<y\}}$$
for all $x, y \in (-1,1),$
$$g^*(x,y) \; =\; \frac{(y-x)^{\alpha-1}}{\Ga(\alpha)} \left( {\bf 1}_{\{x<y<-1\}}\, +\, c_{\alpha,1} \left(\int_0^{\frac{\vert 1+x\vert(y-1)}{2}} \!\!\! t^{\alpha-1}(1+t)^{-1}\, dt \right){\bf 1}_{\{y>1\}}\right)$$
for all $x <-1,$ and $g^*(x,y) = g(x,y)$ for all $x >1.$ The problem of Corollary 1 is irrelevant. Finally, the non-negative harmonic functions on $(-1,1)$ vanishing on $[-1,1]^c$ are constant multiples of $(1-x)^{\alpha-1}.$
\subsubsection{The case $\alpha > 1, \rho =1/\alpha$} Using Skorokhod continuity in Theorem A (a) and the absence of positive jumps, one has
$$H_x(dy)\; =\;c_{\alpha, 1-1/\alpha}(1-x)(1+x)^{\alpha-1}(1-y)^{-1}\vert y+1\vert^{1-\alpha}(x-y)^{-1}{\bf 1}_{\{y <-1\}}\, dy\; +\; \mathbb{P}_x[ T_1 < T] \, \delta_1(dy).$$
Either taking the limit in Remark 6 (d) or integrating the first term, we can compute the weight of the Dirac mass, and find
$$H_x(dy)\; =\; c_{\alpha, 1-1/\alpha}(1-x)(1+x)^{\alpha-1}(1-y)^{-1}\vert y+1\vert^{1-\alpha}(x-y)^{-1}{\bf 1}_{\{y <-1\}}\, dy\; +\; \left(\frac{x+1}{2}\right)^{\alpha-1} \!\!\! \delta_1(dy).$$
The corresponding Green function is
$$g(x,y)\; =\; \frac{1}{\Ga(\alpha)}\left( \left( \frac{(1-y)(1+x)}{2}\right)^{\alpha-1}\! -\; (x-y)^{\alpha-1}{\bf 1}_{\{x > y\}}\right).$$
The hitting probabilities are
$$\mathbb{P}_x[T_y < T]\; =\; \left(\frac{1+x}{1+y}\right)^{\alpha-1}$$
for every $x \le y,$ which is also a consequence of a well-known result on scale functions - see e.g. Theorem VII.8 in \cite{B}, and$$\mathbb{P}_x[T_y < T]\; =\; \left(\frac{1+x}{1+y}\right)^{\alpha-1} \!\!-\; \left(\frac{2(x-y)}{1-y^2}\right)^{\alpha-1}$$
for every $x > y.$ Finally, the non-negative harmonic functions on $(-1,1)$ which vanish on $[-1,1]^c$ are of the type $\lambda (1-x)^{\alpha-1}(1+x)^{\alpha -2} + \mu (1+x)^{\alpha-1}$
with $\lambda, \mu \ge 0.$\\
It is clear that $H_x^*(dy) =\delta_{-1}(dy)$ for all $x < -1.$ To compute $H_x^*(dy)$ for $x >1,$ let us introduce $\tau^* =\inf\{ t >0, \, L_t <1\}.$ The absence of positive jumps and the formula for semi-finite intervals imply after some computation
\begin{eqnarray*}
H_x^*(dy) &= & {\bf 1}_{\{ |y|<1\}} \mathbb{P}_x[L_{\tau^*} \in dy] \;+\; \mathbb{P}_x[L_{\tau^*} <-1] \delta_{-1}(dy)\\
&= & c_{\alpha,1-1/\alpha}\!\left( \frac{(x-1)^{\alpha-1} (1-y)^{1-\alpha} }{x-y}\,{\bf 1}_{\{|y|<1\}} dy + \left( \int_{0}^{\frac{x-1}{x+1}} \!\!\! z^{\alpha-2} (1-z)^{1-\alpha} dz \right)\! \delta_{-1}(dy)\right),
\end{eqnarray*}
in accordance with Remark 3 in \cite{P1} - see also Proposition 1.3 in \cite{KPW}.
\bigskip
\noindent
{\bf Acknowledgements.} Nous savons gr\'e \`a Jean Jacod d'un chat instructif sur la distance de Skorokhod. C. P. a b\'en\'efici\'e du support de la Chaire {\em March\'es en Mutation}, F\'ed\'eration Bancaire Fran\c{c}aise. Travail d\'edi\'e \`a l'association Laplace-Gauss.
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"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaCommonCrawl"
} | 872 |
{"url":"https:\/\/socratic.org\/questions\/how-do-you-use-the-pythagorean-theorem-to-find-the-missing-side-of-the-right-tri-8","text":"# How do you use the Pythagorean Theorem to find the missing side of the right triangle with the given measures: A= 20, C= 25?\n\nMar 2, 2017\n\nMissing side is $15$ or $32.02$ units\n\n#### Explanation:\n\nIt is apparent that we are talking about a right angled triangle, whose two sides $A = 20$ and $C = 25$. In a right angled triangle, according to Pythagoras Theorem, square on the largest side, which is a hypotenuse, is equal to sum of the squares on other two sides.\n\nHere we have two possibilities.\n\nOne - $C = 25$ is the hypotenuse and the largest side. As it's square is ${25}^{2} = 625$ and square of $A$ is ${20}^{2} = 400$, the square of third side would be $625 - 400 = 225$ and\n\nthird side, say $B = \\sqrt{225} = 15$.\n\nTwo - $B$, the third side is the hypotenuse and the largest side. As sum of the square of other two sides $A$ and $C$ is ${20}^{2} = 400$ and ${25}^{2} = 625$, the square of third side $B$ would be $625 + 400 = 1025$ and\n\nthird side, $B = \\sqrt{1025} \\cong 32.02$.","date":"2019-11-14 10:49:34","metadata":"{\"extraction_info\": {\"found_math\": true, \"script_math_tex\": 0, \"script_math_asciimath\": 0, \"math_annotations\": 0, \"math_alttext\": 0, \"mathml\": 0, \"mathjax_tag\": 18, \"mathjax_inline_tex\": 1, \"mathjax_display_tex\": 0, \"mathjax_asciimath\": 0, \"img_math\": 0, \"codecogs_latex\": 0, \"wp_latex\": 0, \"mimetex.cgi\": 0, \"\/images\/math\/codecogs\": 0, \"mathtex.cgi\": 0, \"katex\": 0, \"math-container\": 0, \"wp-katex-eq\": 0, \"align\": 0, \"equation\": 0, \"x-ck12\": 0, \"texerror\": 0, \"math_score\": 0.6614164710044861, \"perplexity\": 234.44696253062995}, \"config\": {\"markdown_headings\": true, \"markdown_code\": true, \"boilerplate_config\": {\"ratio_threshold\": 0.18, \"absolute_threshold\": 10, \"end_threshold\": 15, \"enable\": true}, \"remove_buttons\": true, \"remove_image_figures\": true, \"remove_link_clusters\": true, \"table_config\": {\"min_rows\": 2, \"min_cols\": 3, \"format\": \"plain\"}, \"remove_chinese\": true, \"remove_edit_buttons\": true, \"extract_latex\": true}, \"warc_path\": \"s3:\/\/commoncrawl\/crawl-data\/CC-MAIN-2019-47\/segments\/1573496668416.11\/warc\/CC-MAIN-20191114104329-20191114132329-00464.warc.gz\"}"} | null | null |
class PeopleController < ApplicationController
def index
# Assign all instances of people to @people
end
def show
# Assign a person with a specific id from the parameters to @person
# Remember the id can come from params[:id]
end
def create
# Create a new person based on the incoming POST data
# Assign this new person to @person
# which you can access with people_params
# people_params is a hash of first_name, last_name and age
redirect_to @person # Do not alter this line
end
def update
# Update the attributes of a single person from the PUT action
# people_params is a hash of first_name, last_name and age
# First you'll want to find the person, assign them to @person
# then update their attributes
redirect_to @person # Do not alter this line
end
def destroy
# Delete a person record from the DELETE action
# First you'll want to find the person
# Then delete them
redirect_to Person # Do not alter this line
end
private
# Do not alter this method
def people_params
params.require(:person).permit(:first_name, :last_name, :age)
end
end
| {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaGithub"
} | 2,818 |
IT'S OFFICIAL
Scott Brown Runs for Senate Again
Dominick Reuter/Reuters
Nobody has been a U.S. senator from two different states in more than 100 years, but Scott Brown announced Thursday he will run for New Hampshire's seat after losing his Massachusetts seat in 2012. Brown, a Republican, will challenge the sitting Democrat, Jeanne Shaheen. "I am running to be a true independent voice for the people of New Hampshire," he said. Brown seems to be planning to run a similar campaign to those in the past, targeting the president's health care plan in particular, declaring once again: "Let me be the one to stop it for you." | {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaCommonCrawl"
} | 376 |
Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, Matthew Wheaton
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net
A BRIEF HANDBOOK OF ENGLISH AUTHORS
BY OSCAR FAY ADAMS
BOSTON
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY
New York: 11 East Seventeenth Street
The Riverside Press, Cambridge
1884
Copyright, 1883,
By OSCAR FAY ADAMS.
_All rights reserved._
_The Riverside Press, Cambridge_:
Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton & Co.
PREFACE.
This brief handbook is intended simply for every-day use, when
reference to larger works of the kind may not be convenient.
Experience has proved that the small book which can be readily
taken up is consulted far more frequently than the ponderous
volume that requires great muscular exertion to lift.
In the world of letters as in the world of society
conventionality plays no unimportant part, as every student of
literature knows. That there is such a thing as "conventional
immortality" every biographical dictionary yields abundant
evidence. Even so small a work as this must necessarily contain
many names that have achieved this conventional immortality
through the accident of circumstance. Some literary fames are
among the legacies left by preceding centuries to the present
one to account for and explain. And when all is said, "the
iniquity of oblivion blindly scattereth her poppy and dealeth
with the memory of men without distinction to merit of
perpetuity."
OSCAR FAY ADAMS.
ERIE, PA., _October 28, 1883_.
PUBLISHERS REFERRED TO IN THIS VOLUME.
_Apl._ Appleton, D., & Co. New York City.
_Arm._ Armstrong, A. C., & Son " " "
_A. T. S._ American Tract Society " " "
_A. U. A._ American Unitarian Association Boston, Mass.
_Bi._ Bickers & Son London, England.
_Ca._ Carter, Robert, & Brothers New York City.
_Cas._ Cassell, Petter, Galpin & Co New York,
London,
and Paris.
_Cath._ Catholic Publication Soc. Co. New York City.
_Clx._ Claxton, E., & Co. Philadelphia, Pa.
_Di._ Dick & Fitzgerald New York City.
_Do._ Dodd, Mead & Co.. " " "
_Dra._ Draper, Warren F. Andover, Mass.
_Dut._ Dutton, E. P., & Co. New York City.
_El._ Ellis, George H. Boston, Mass.
_Est._ Estes & Lauriat " "
_Fu._ Funk, I. K., & Co. New York City.
_Har._ Harper & Bro. " " "
_Ho._ Holt, Henry, & Co. " " "
_Hou._ Houghton, Mifflin & Co. Boston, Mass.
_Jo._ Johnson, T. & J. W. Philadelphia, Pa.
_Ju._ Judd, Orange New York City.
_La._ Lea's, Henry C., Son & Co. Philadelphia, Pa.
_Le._ Lee & Shepard Boston, Mass.
_Lip._ Lippincott, J. B., & Co. Philadelphia, Pa.
_Lit._ Little, Brown & Co. Boston, Mass.
_Lo._ Lothrop, D., & Co. " "
_Mac._ Macmillan & Co. New York and London.
_Mil._ Miller, James New York City.
_Mur._ Murphy, John Baltimore, Md.
_Mu._ Munsell Albany, N. Y.
_Nel._ Nelson, Thos., & Sons New York,
London,
and Edinburgh.
_Os._ Osgood, James R., & Co. Boston, Mass.
_P. B._ Presbyterian Bd. of Publication Philadelphia, Pa.
_Pet._ Peterson, T. B., & Co. Philadelphia, Pa.
_Phi._ Phillips & Hunt New York City.
_Pi._ Pict, John B. Baltimore, Md.
_Por._ Porter & Coates Philadelphia, Pa.
_Put._ Putnam's, G. P., Sons New York City.
_Ran._ Randolph, A. D. F., & Co. " " "
_Rob._ Roberts Brothers Boston, Mass.
_Rou._ Routledge, George, & Sons New York and London.
_Sad._ Sadlier D. &. J., & Co. New York City.
_Scr._ Scribner's, Charles, Sons " " "
_Sh._ Sheldon & Co. " " "
_Th._ Thomas, F. H. St. Louis, Mo.
_Wid._ Widdleton, W. J. New York City.
_Wiley_ Wiley, John, & Son " " "
_Wor._ Worthington, R. " " "
HANDBOOK OF ENGLISH AUTHORS.
=Abbott, Edwin A.= 183 Shakespearean scholar. Author of a
Shakespearean Grammar, a Handbook of Elizabethan English, etc. _Pub.
Mac. Rob._
=A'Becket, Gilbert Abbot.= 1811-1856. Humorist. Author Comic Hist. of
England, Comic Hist. of Rome, Comic Blackstone, etc. _Pub. Apl. Lip._
=Adams, Mrs. Sarah [Flower].= 1805-1848. Known chiefly by her hymn,
"Nearer, my God, to Thee."
=Adams, Wm.= 1814-1848. Religious writer. Author of Sacred Allegories,
etc. _See Edition of 1869, with Life._ _Pub. Lip._
=Addison, Joseph.= 1672-1719. Essayist and poet. His tragedy of Cato
is now little read, but his Hymns still continue deservedly popular.
As a prose writer A. has exercised an influence upon the manners,
morals, and general culture of his time not easily overestimated. His
style is graceful, gentle, and persuasive. With Steele he created the
Periodical Essay, and was the chief contributor to the Tatler,
Spectator, and Guardian. _See Thackeray's Eng. Humorists_, _Aikin's
Memorials of Addison._ _Pub. Har. Lip._
=Aguilar [ae-ge-lar'], Grace.= 1816-1847. Novelist. Home Influence,
Woman's Friendship, and Days of Bruce are her chief works. _Pub. Apl.
Har._
=Aikin [[=a]'kin], John.= 1747-1822. Biographer and miscellaneous
writer. One of the authors of Evenings at Home. _Pub. Har._
=Aikin, Lucy.= 1781-1864. Dau. to J. A. Historian and poet. Author
Memoirs of the Courts of Elizabeth, James I., Charles I., Memorials of
Addison, etc.
=Ainsworth, Robert.= 1660-1743. Classical lexicographer.
=Ainsworth, Wm. Francis.= 180 Geologist and traveller. Author
Travels in Asia Minor, Researches in Assyria, Babylonia, and Chaldea,
etc.
=Ainsworth, Wm. Harrison.= 1805-1882. Cousin to W. F. A. Novelist. His
historical novels are numerous, but Jack Sheppard is his most famous
work, and has been 8 times dramatized. His popularity has been very
great, many of his works having been translated into most European
languages, yet their literary merit is not high, and the influence of
Jack Sheppard, in particular, is pernicious. _Pub. Har. Rou. Pet._
=Airy, George Biddell.= 180 Astronomer. Author Essays on the
Invasion of Britain by Julius Caesar, and numerous scientific papers of
value.
=Akenside, Mark.= 1721-1770. Poet and physician. Author of a
philosophical poem in blank verse on The Pleasures of the Imagination.
_Pub. Hou._
=Alcuin [[)a]l'-kwin].= c. 735-804. Abp. York. Writer of Latin
commentaries, dogmatic treatises, and numerous Latin poems.
=Aldhelm.= 656-709. Anglo-Latin poet. His principal theme is the
praise of virginity, on which he has written in both prose and verse.
=Alexander, Adam.= 1741-1809. Scotch grammarian. Author of Classical
Biog. etc.
=Alexander, Mrs. Cecil Frances.= 18-- ----. Poet. Best known by her
famous poem, The Burial of Moses. _Pub. Dut. Mac._
=Alexander, Mrs.= Novelist. See Hector, Mrs. Annie Alexander.
=Alexander, Wm.= c. 1580-1640. Scotch poet. Author Recreations with
the Muses, Doomsday, etc. Style didactic and heavy. _See Ward's Eng.
Poets, vol. 2._
=Alford [awl'ford], Henry.= 1810-1871. Dean of Canterbury. Author of
Poems, a valuable edition of the Greek Testament, a much criticised
Plea for the Queen's English, etc. _See Life, Journals, and Letters.
See Moon's The Dean's English._ _Pub. Har. Ran. Rou._
=Alfred the Great.= 848-901. The Father of English Prose. An untiring
scholar whose labors gave form and dignity to the English tongue. His
translations from the Latin are numerous and valuable, among them
being Baeda's Ecclesiastical History and Boethius's Consolations of
Philosophy. _See Green's Making of England._
=Alfric.= ---- 1006. Abp. Canterbury. A noted theologian and
grammarian. His 80 Homilies his chief work. He translated the books of
Moses and wrote many theological works.
=Alison, Archibald.= 1757-1839. Scotch theological writer. Essays on
Taste, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Alison, Sir Archibald.= 1792-1867. Son to preceding. Historian.
Author of a Hist. of Europe in 18 vols. and a Life of Marlborough.
_Pub. Har._
=Allein [[)a]l'l[)e]n], Joseph.= 1633-1668. Theologian. Author of
Alarm to the Unconverted.
=Allen, Chas. Grant.= 184 Author of Physiological AEsthetics,
Color and Sense, Force and Energy, etc. _Pub. Apl._
=Allingham, Wm.= 182 Irish poet. Author Day and Night Songs,
Songs, Ballads and Stories, etc. _Pub. Mac._
=A. L. O. E.= See Tucker, Charlotte.
=Andrews, Lancelot.= 1555-1626. Bp. Winchester. The most eminent
preacher of his time, and a High Church theologian of great rigor and
learning. He was one of the translators of the Bible and author of 4
vols. of Sermons and a Manual of Private Devotions. Style involved and
artificial. _Pub. Dut._
=Anster, John.= 1798-1867. Irish poet. Author of a much admired
translation of Faust.
=Anstey, Christopher.= 1724-1805. Poet. The New Bath Guide (pub. 1766)
is his chief work and was the most popular book of its day. It is a
lively, versified description of life and manners of Bath. _See his
Works, pub. 1808, with Life, by his son._
=Arbuthnot [aer'b[)u]th-not], John.= 1675-1735. Humorist. Author Hist.
John Bull, Art of Political Lying, Memoirs of P. P. Clark of this
Parish, and supposed author of the greater part of the famous satire
upon the abuses of learning, the Memoirs of Martinus Scriblerus.
=Armstrong, John.= 1709-1779. Scotch poet and physician. Author of the
Art of Preserving Health, a poem of much originality of style.
=Arnold, Edwin.= 183 Poet and journalist. His chief work, The
Light of Asia, gives him a high rank among modern poets. The subject
is the life of Buddha. He has translated much from the Sanskrit, and
is the author of Griselda, Lyrical and Dramatic Poems, The Indian Song
of Songs, Pearls of the Faith, etc. Style elevated and versification
musical. _Pub. Rob._
=Arnold, Matthew.= 182 Son to succeeding. Poet and essayist. His
poetry is pervaded by a vein of doubt and mistrust, although elevated
in character and of great merit. Tristram and Iseult, and Thyrsis, an
elegy on the poet Clough, are among his best poems. His prose works
are numerous and important. Literature and Dogma, and Essays in
Criticism are among the best known. The phrase "sweetness and light"
was made familiar by him. _See Hutton's Essays, Swinburne's Essays and
Studies, Stedman's Victorian Poets, Edinburgh Rev. April, 1869._ _Pub.
Har. Mac. Ho. Ste._
=Arnold, Thomas.= 1795-1842. Head Master of Rugby. Author Hist. Rome
and Lect. on Modern Hist. He exercised a great and beneficial
influence upon the minds of the young Englishmen of his time. _See
Life and Correspondence of Arnold, by A. P. Stanley, and Hughes'
School Days at Rugby._ _Pub. Apl._
=Arnold, Thos. Kerchever.= 1800-1853. Author of classical text-books.
_Pub. Apl._
=Arnold, Wm. Delafield.= 1828-1859. Son to T. A. Writer of historical
sketches and lectures.
=Arnott, Neil.= 1788-1874. Scotch scientist. Author Elements of
Physics, etc. _Pub. Apl._
=Ascham [[)a]s'kam], Roger.= 1515-1568. Tutor of Lady Jane Grey and Q.
Elizabeth. Author of Toxophilus, a treatise on the bow, and The
Schoolmaster. A. possessed a clear, correct style.
=Ashe, Thomas.= 183 Poet. Author of The Sorrows of Hypsipyle,
etc.
=Ashmole, Elias.= 1617-1692. Antiquary. Author of Laws of the Order of
the Garter, etc.
=Atterbury, Francis.= 1662-1732. Bp. Rochester. Theologian. Author
Sermons and numerous controversial writings.
=Aubrey, John.= 1626-1697. Antiquary. A. published a collection of
popular superstitions.
=Austen, Jane.= 1775-1817. Novelist. Author of Pride and Prejudice,
Sense and Sensibility, Northanger Abbey, Mansfield Park, Persuasion,
Emma, The Watsons, and Lady Susan. These novels are examples of the
finest literary art, and have delighted cultured minds for almost
three generations. Her character-drawing is strong and realistic. _See
Atlantic Monthly, Feb. 1863. See Jane Austen and her Works by Sarah
Tytler (pub. 1881)._ _Pub. Har. Por. Lit. Rou._
=Austin, Alfred.= 183 Poet and novelist. Author of An Artist's
Proof, Interludes, The Human Tragedy, etc. _Pub. Mac._
=Austin, Mrs. Sarah.= 1793-1867. Author Characteristics of Goethe, and
of numerous translations from the German.
=Ayton [[=a]'tun], Sir Robert.= 1570-1638. Scotch poet. Remembered for
his lyric, "I do confess thou'rt smooth and fair."
=Aytoun [a'tun], Wm. Edmondstoune.= 1813-1865. Scotch poet. Author
Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers, Bothwell, Edinburgh after Flodden, and
with T. Martin, of the Bon Gaultier Ballads. _See Memoir by Theodore
Martin._ _Pub. Arm. Hou._
=Babbage, Chas.= 1790-1871. Mathematician and philosopher. Author of
The Economy of Manufactures and Machinery, A Ninth Bridgewater
Treatise, etc.
=Bacon, Francis.= Viscount St. Albans and Baron Verulam. 1561-1626.
Philosopher. The Founder of Inductive Philosophy. He wrote, in both
Eng. and Latin, The advancement of Learning, Novum Organum and
Historia Naturalis et Experimentalis from the Instauratio Magna,
which embodies his system of philosophy. His Essays are his most
important English work. A man of great genius and wonderful
intellectual activity whose writings cover a wide range. He awakened
the scientific spirit in England and gave it form. The best edition of
B. is that by James Spedding. _See Life and Letters of Bacon, by James
Spedding (1870), also W. H. Dixon's Personal History of Lord Bacon._
_Pub. Hou._
=Bacon, Roger= (Friar.) 1214-1292. Philosopher. The great light of the
thirteenth century. In his Opus Major he anticipated many inventions
of later times, and displayed a familiarity with all branches of study
of his day.
=Bage, Robert.= 1728-1801. Novelist. Author of Man as he Is, The Fair
Syrian, etc. _See Life, by Walter Scott._
=Bagehot [b[=a]j'ut], Walter.= 1826-1877. Essayist and journalist.
Author of Lombard Street, Physics and Politics, The Eng. Constitution,
and Essays on Silver. _See Living Age, April 19, 1879._ _Pub. Apl.
Lit. Scr._
=Bailey, Philip James.= 181 Poet. Author of Festus, The Angel
World, The Mystic, The Age, etc. Festus, which had a brief popularity,
is a work of unequal merit, but contains a few brilliant passages.
=Baillie, Joanna.= 1764-1851. Scotch dramatist. Has been called "the
female Shakespeare." Author of Plays on the Passions, etc. Her tragedy
of De Montfort is her finest effort. _See complete Works in one vol.
with Life (1853). See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 4._
=Baker, Sir Samuel White.= 182 Traveller. Author of the Albert
Nyanza, The Nile Tributaries of Abyssinia, Ismailia, etc. _Pub. Har.
Lip. Mac._
=Balfour, Francis Maitland.= 1851-1882. Biologist. Author Elements of
Comparative Embryology. Development of the Elasmobranch Fishes, etc.
Style acute and original. _See Fortnightly Rev. Nov. 1882._ _Pub.
Mac._
=Banim [b[=a]'nim], John.= 1798-1842. Irish novelist. His novels deal
almost exclusively with the tragic side of Irish peasant life. _See
Life, by P. J. Murray, 1857._
=Banks, Sir Joseph.= 1743-1820. Naturalist. _See Cuvier, Elegy on Sir
J. Banks, 1821._
=Barbauld [bar'bawld or bar-b[=o]'], Mrs. Anna Laetitia.= 1743-1825.
Miscellaneous writer. Author of Hymns in Prose, Miscellaneous Poems,
etc. Among her best efforts is the exquisite little poem, Life. Some
of her religious poetry is deservedly popular. Style easy and
graceful. _See edition with Memoir, by L. Aikin, 1827._
=Barbour, John.= 1316-1396. Archdeacon of Aberdeen. Scotch poet. His
Bruce, a metrical hist. in 13,000 octosyllabic lines, is a chronicle
of the life of King Robert I., and has historical value as well as
literary merit. _See Craik's Eng. Lit. vol. I._
=Barclay, Robert.= 1648-1690. Scotch writer. His Apology for the
Quakers was first pub. in Latin.
=Barham [b[)a]r'am], Richard Harris.= 1788-1845. Humorous poet. Author
of the Ingoldsby Legends, a witty volume of facile rhymes. _Pub. Por.
Wid._
=Baring-Gould, Sabine.= 183 Author Curious Myths of the Middle
Ages, Lives of the Saints, etc. _See Lit. World, Jan. 13, 1883._ _Pub.
Apl. Lip. Rob._
=Barnard, Lady Anne.= 1750-1825. Scotch poet. Author of Auld Robin
Gray.
=Barnfield, Richard.= 1574-c. 1605. Poet. His ode "As it fell upon a
day" was once ascribed to Shakespeare. _See Warton's Eng. Poetry._
=Barrow, Isaac.= 1630-1677. Theologian and mathematician. Author of
Sermons and Mathematical works of almost equal renown. _See Selections
from, pub. 1866._ _Pub. Mac._
=Barton, Bernard.= 1784-1849. A Friend of Lamb's. "The Quaker Poet."
Author of Poetic Vigils, Devotional Verses, etc., the literary merit
of which is but slight.
=Baxter, Richard.= 1615-1691. Theologian. A voluminous writer, but now
best known by his Saints' Rest, and Call to the Unconverted. _See
edition of 1850 in 23 vols. with Life._ _Pub. Clx._
=Bayley, Thos. Haynes.= 1797-1839. Song writer. Author of I'd be a
Butterfly, She wore a Wreath of Roses, We met, 't was in a Crowd, etc.
=Bayne, Peter.= 183 Essayist and biographer. Author of Christian
Life, Essays in Biographical Criticism, Life of Hugh Miller, etc.
_Pub. Har. Rou._
=Beale, Lionel Smith.= 182 Scientific writer of note. Author of
How to Work with the Microscope, Protoplasm, The Mystery of Life, etc.
=Beattie [bee't[)i] or b[=a]'t[)i]], James.= 1735-1803. Scotch poet.
Author of The Minstrel, a long, prosy poem in Spenserian stanza, and a
prose Essay on Truth. _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 3._ _Pub. Hou._
=Beaumont, Francis.= 1586-1615. Dramatist. Colleague of John Fletcher.
Their collected plays amount to 52, of which 14 were in part the work
of B., but his separate authorship is not easy to trace. B. and F. in
their day were more popular than Shakespeare, but none of their plays
now keep the stage. Their blank verse is melodious and their wit and
humor sparkling, but their plays reflect the full coarseness of the
time. Among plays written by them jointly are Philaster, Thierry and
Theodoret, A King and No King, and the comedy of The Knight of the
Burning Pestle. See Fletcher, John. _See Schlegel's Dramatic Lit.,
Hazlitt's Dramatic Lit. and Hallam's Lit. of Europe._ _Pub. Apl._
=Beaumont, Sir John.= 1582-1628. Bro. to F. B. Author Bosworth Field,
a poem in heroic verse.
=Beckford, Wm.= 1760-1844. Author of Vathek, an Oriental romance.
Style luxuriant. _See Chambers' Cyc. Eng. Lit._
=Beddoes, Thos. Lovell.= 1803-1849. Poet. Author The Bride's Tragedy,
Death's Jest-Book, etc. _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 4._
=Bede, Cuthbert.= See Bradley, Edward.
=Bede, Beda, or Baeda, The Venerable.= 673-735. "First among Eng.
scholars, first among Eng. theologians, first among Eng. historians."
His whole life was passed in the monastery of Yarrow, where he
composed more than 40 Latin works, the greatest of which is the Eccl.
Hist. of the Eng. Nation. On the day of his death was finished his
translation of St. John's Gospel into Eng., being the earliest example
of Eng. prose. _See edition of Bede by Dr. Giles, 6 vols. 1843-4. See
Green's Short Hist. of the Eng. People, also Green's Making of
England._ _Pub. Dut._
=Behn= [b[)e]n], =Mrs. Aphra.= 1642-1689. Novelist and dramatist.
Known in her day as Astraea. Author of The Forced Marriage, Oronooko,
etc. A lively, immoral writer. _See edition of 1871. See Miss
Kavanagh's Eng. Women of Letters, and Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 2._
=Bellenden, Wm.= fl. c. 1615. Scotch classical writer. Author De
Statu.
=Bentham, Jeremy.= 1748-1832. Philosopher and political economist.
Founder of the Utilitarian school of thought, and a valued authority
upon jurisprudence. Many reforms in Eng. jurisprudence are traceable
to his influence. _See edition of 1843 in 11 vols. See Edinburgh Rev.
Oct. 1843._
=Bentley, Richard.= 1662-1742. Classical writer. Author Dissertations
on the Epistles of Phalaris, works provoked by his famous controversy
with Boyle, and which rank as masterpieces of argument. They display
great learning, a rapid, concise style, and a sarcastic wit. _See
Bentley, by R. C. Jebb, in Eng. Men of Letters._
=Berkeley, George.= 1684-1753. Bp. Cloyne. Irish metaphysician. An
eccentric but pure-minded thinker, in whose Principles of Human
Knowledge is denied the existence of matter. Other works of B. are
Alciphron or the Minute Philosopher, Theory of Vision, Siris, etc.
Also the poem in which occurs the famous line, "Westward the course of
empire takes its way." _See edition of Berkeley, by Fraser, 4 vols.
Oxford, 1871._
=Berners, Lord.= 1469-1532. Translator of Froissart's Chronicle. The
translation is faithful and is a masterpiece of picturesque and
spirited English.
=Berners, Juliana.= c. 1388-c. 1461. Author of the Bokys of Hunting
and Hawking. _See Warton's Hist. Eng. Poetry._
=Besant, Walter.= 183 Novelist. Colleague of James Rice, and
with him author of The Seamy Side, Ready Money Mortiboy, the Chaplain
of the Fleet, Shepherds All and Maidens Fair, etc. Sole author of The
Revolt of Man, Life of E. H. Palmer, etc. See Rice, James. _Pub. Har.
Rob. Dut._
=Beveridge, Wm.= 1638-1708. Bp. St. Asaph. Theologian. Thesaurus
Theologicus, Expositions of the Catechism and 39 Articles, and Private
Thoughts are some of his chief works.
=Bickerstaff, Isaac.= 1735-c. 1788. Dramatist. Author of Maid of the
Mill, Love in a Village, etc. _See Hazlitt's Essays on the Comic
Writers._
=Bickersteth, Edward.= 1786-1850. Religious writer. Author of The
Scripture Help, etc. _See edition of his Works in 17 vols. 1853. See
Memoir of, by T. R. Birks, 1851._
=Bickersteth, Edward Henry.= 182 Son to E. B. Religious Poet.
Author of Yesterday, To-Day and Forever, The Two Brothers, etc. _Pub.
Ca. Dut._
=Bickersteth, Rob't.= 181 Bp. Ripon. Religious writer. Author of
Lent Lectures, Bible Landmarks, etc.
=Birch, Thomas.= 1705-1766. Historian and biographer. Author of a
General Dictionary, Historical and Critical.
=Black, Wm.= 184 Novelist. A prolific writer, the best of whose
works are A Daughter of Heth, Princess of Thule, Strange Adventures of
a Phaeton, and Macleod of Dare. They evince rare powers of description
and much constructive skill. _See Harper's Mag. Dec. 1882._ _Pub.
Har._
=Blackie, John Stuart.= 180 Scotch poet and scholar. For 30
years Greek Professor at Edinburgh Univ. His numerous works include
Greek, Latin, and German translations, several vols. of poems, and a
famous work on Self-Culture which has been translated into every
European language. _Pub. Scr._
=Blackmore, Sir Richard.= 1650-1729. Poet. Author of the epics The
Creation, and Prince Arthur.
=Blackmore, Richard Doddridge.= 182 Novelist. Author Lorna
Doone, Maid of Sker, Alice Lorraine, Erema, Mary Anerly, Christowell,
etc. A vigorous and original writer. Lorna Doone is his finest work.
_Pub. Har. Lip._
=Blackstone, Sir Wm.= 1723-1780. Jurist. Author of Commentaries on the
Laws of England, an authoritative work. _See Campbell's Lives of the
Chief Justices._ _Pub. Har. Lip._
=Blair, Hugh.= 1718-1800. Author of the once famous Lectures on
Rhetoric. _Pub. Por._
=Blair, Robert.= 1699-1747. Poet. Author of The Grave, a dull,
didactic, but once popular poem. _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 3._
=Blake, Wm.= 1757-1827. Artist and poet. Author of Poetical Sketches,
Songs of Innocence and Experience, etc. A writer of rare simplicity
and beauty. An Elizabethan poet of the 19th cent. _See editions of his
poems by Shepherd and Rossetti, and Life by Gilchrist, 1863 and 1881,
also Swinburne's Study of Blake, 1863._ _Pub. Rob._
=Blamire, Susanna.= 1747-1794. Poet. Author of the fine lyrics, The
Siller Crown, What Ails this Heart o' Mine, etc.
=Blanchard, Edward Laman.= 182 Dramatist and novelist.
=Blanchard, Laman.= 1803-1845. Litterateur. _See Bulwer's Memoir of,
with Blanchard's Essays and Sketches, 1849._
=Blessington, Marguerite, Countess of.= 1789-1849. Society novelist.
_See Life and Correspondence edited by D. R. Madden._
=Bloomfield, Robert.= 1766-1823. Pastoral poet. Author of The Farmer's
Boy, Rural Tales, The Horkey, etc. _Pub Por. Rou._
=Blunt, John Henry.= 182 Theologian. Author Hist. Reformation in
Ch. of England and editor Dict. Sects and Heresies, etc. _Pub. Dut._
=Blunt, John James.= 1794-1855. Ecclesiologist. Author Hist. Christian
Ch. in the first three centuries, etc. _Pub. Ca._
=Bolingbroke, Lord.= See St. John, Henry.
=Bonar, Horatius.= 180 Scotch poet. Author Hymns of Faith and
Hope, etc. _Pub. Ca._
=Borrow, George.= 1803-1881. Author of Gipsies of Spain, Bible in
Spain, Lavengro, The Romany Rye, Romany Word Book, etc. _See
Autobiography, 1851._ _Pub. Ca. Har._
=Boswell [boz'well], Alexander.= 1775-1822. Poet. Son to J. B. His
song, Jenny Dang the Weaver, is his best known production.
=Boswell, James.= 1740-1795. Biographer. His Life of Dr. Samuel
Johnson is an incomparable work. _Pub. Ho. Lit. Rou._
=Boswell, James.= 1779-1822. Son to preceding. Shakespearean scholar.
=Boucicault [boo-se-ko'], Dion.= 182 Dramatist. Among his very
numerous popular plays, London Assurance, Rip Van Winkle, The Corsican
Brothers, Led Astray, and the Shaughran are perhaps the best. _See
Johnson's Cyc._
=Bowles, Wm. Lisle.= 1762-1850. Poet. Author Fourteen Sonnets, Village
Verse Book, etc. A graceful writer, to whom Wordsworth and Coleridge
attributed their own poetic inspiration.
=Bowring [bour'ing], Sir John.= 1792-1872. Philologist and poet. Best
known as a writer of hymns of great beauty, among others, the familiar
Watchman, Tell us of the Night. _See Autobiographical Recollections,
1877._ _Pub. Dut._
=Boyd, Andrew Kennedy Hutchinson.= 182 Scotch essayist. Author
of Essays by a Country Parson, Graver Thoughts, Autumn Holidays, etc.
He signed his essays with his initials A. K. H. B.
=Boyle, Chas.= 1676-1731. Famous for his controversy with Bentley
concerning the Epistles of Phalaris. See Bentley, Richard.
=Boyle, Robert.= 1626-1691. Philosopher. A voluminous writer upon
metaphysics and natural sciences.
=Braddon, Miss.= See Maxwell, Mrs. Mary E.
=Bradley, Edward.= "Cuthbert Bede." 182 Humorist. Author
Adventures of Verdant Green, etc.
=Bradley, James.= 1692-1762. Astronomical writer.
=Brady, Nicholas.= 1659-1726. Chiefly known for his share in the
version of the Psalms prepared by him with Nahum Tate.
=Bray, Mrs. Anna Eliza.= 1790-1883. Miscellaneous writer of note. _See
Lit. World, Feb. 24, 1883._
=Brewer, E. Cobham.= 181 Author Reader's Handbook, Dict. Phrase
and Fable, Guide to Science, etc. Well edited and valuable books of
reference. _Pub. Clx. Lip._
=Brewster, Sir David.= 1781-1868. Scientist. Author Natural Magic,
More Worlds than One, Lives of Newton, Kepler, etc. _See Life, by his
daughter, 1869._ _Pub. Har._
=Bronte [br[=o]n'te], Anne.= 1820-1849. Novelist. Sister to C. B.
Author of Tenant of Wildfell Hall and Agnes Gray. _Pub. Har._
=Bronte, Charlotte.= 1816-1855. Sister to A. B. and E. B. Novelist.
Author of The Professor, Jane Eyre, Shirley, and Villette. A writer of
great power and originality, whose Jane Eyre marks an era in the
history of fiction. _See Charlotte Bronte by T. W. Reid, 1877; Life of
by Mrs. Gaskell, and H. Martineau's Biographical Sketches._ _Pub.
Har._
=Bronte, Emily.= 1819-1848. Sister to C. B. Novelist. Her Wuthering
Heights shows in places greater power than either of her sisters
possessed, but as a whole is strained and unnatural. _See Ward's Eng.
Poets, vol. 4. Emily Bronte, by A. Mary F. Robinson, and London
Athaenum, June 16, 1883._ _Pub. Har._
=Brooke, Arthur.= ---- c. 1563. Poet. Wrote the Tragical Hist. of Romeo
and Juliet, a paraphrase of Bandello's novel, the source of
Shakespeare's drama.
=Brooke, Charlotte.= ---- 1793. Daughter to H. B. Author of Reliques of
Irish Poetry translated into Eng. verse, etc.
=Brooke, Mrs. Frances Moore.= 1745-1789. Author of several novels, the
opera Rosina, and a periodical called The Old Maid.
=Brooke, Henry.= 1706-1783. Author of plays, poems, and a once famous
novel called The Fool of Quality. _Pub. Mac._
=Brooke, Lord.= See Greville Fulk.
=Brooke, Stopford.= 183 Religious writer. Author Life of F. W.
Robertson, Freedom in the Ch. of England, Christ in Modern Life,
Theology in the Eng. Poets, Primer of Eng. Lit., Sermons, etc. Style
clear, thoughtful, and strong. _Pub. Apl. Mac._
=Brooks, Chas. Shirley.= 1815-1874. Dramatist and Novelist. Author
Poems of Wit and Humor, The Gordian Knot, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Broome, Richard.= ---- 1562. Dramatist. Wrote in conjunction with
others.
=Brougham [broo'am or broo'm], Henry, Lord.= 1779-1868. Statesman and
orator. A man of strong intellect, whose speeches are among the ablest
of his time. A versatile writer, among whose numerous works are
Eloquence of the Ancients and Lives of Men of Letters. _See
Autobiography pub. 1871; Edinburgh Rev. April, 1858, and Life by Lord
Campbell. His works in 10 vols., pub. 1857._
=Broughton, Rhoda.= 18-- ----. Novelist. Author of Red as a Rose is
She, Nancy, Belinda, etc. Style spirited, but wanting in refinement of
expression. _Pub. Lit._
=Brown, John.= 1810-1882. Scotch essayist and physician. Best known by
his exquisite story of Rab and his Friends. _Pub. Hou._
=Brown, Thomas.= 1778-1820. Scotch philosophical writer.
=Brown, Tom.= 1663-1704. Humorous and immoral poet and miscellaneous
writer.
=Browne, Edward Harold.= 181 Bp. Winchester. Theologian. Author
of The Pentateuch and Elohistic Psalms, Sermons on the Atonement, etc.
_Pub. Dut._
=Browne, Isaac Hawkins.= 1706-1760. Poet. Author of A Pipe of Tobacco,
etc.
=Browne, Sir Thos.= 1605-1682. Author of a treatise on Christian
Morals, Religio Medici, Hydriotaphia or Urn-Burial, etc. A writer of
striking genius whose works will always attract thoughtful readers.
Style meditative and imaginative, but frequently obscure. _See
complete edition in Bohn's Antiquarian Library._ _Pub. Mac. Rob._
=Browne, Wm.= 1590-1645. Poet. Wrote Britannia's Pastorals, Shepherd's
Pipe, etc. His style is easy and harmonious, and some of his lyrics
are yet read.
=Browning, Mrs. Elizabeth Barrett.= 1809-1861. Poet. By many critics
given the highest place among poets of her sex, but her verse, in the
main, appeals to a limited class of readers. It has a masculine
strength, a passionate vehemence of expression, and it is often
pathetic and tender, but its frequent obscurity is a grave defect.
Aurora Leigh, Casa Guidi Windows, and Sonnets from the Portuguese, are
among her chief works. _See Letters of, edited by R. H. Hone, 1877,
Contemporary Rev. 1873, and Stedman's Victorian Poets._ _Pub. Mil._
=Browning, Robert.= 181 Poet. Husband to E. B. B. Author of a
long series of poems, some of them obscure and enigmatical to the last
degree, but all bearing the marks of great genius. Paracelsus,
Sordello, Pippa Passes, The King and The Book, Fifine at the Fair, and
Jocoseria are some of them. His circle of sincere admirers is small,
but shorter poems of his, like Herve Riel, and the Pied Piper of
Hamelin, are widely known and read. _See Lit. World, March 11, 1882,
Century Mag. December, 1881, and Stedman's Victorian Poets._ _Pub.
Hou._
=Brunton, Mrs. Mary Balfour.= 1778-1818. Scotch novelist. Author Self
Control and Discipline. _Pub. Har._
=Bryant, Jacob.= 1715-1804. Classical and mythological writer.
=Bryce, James.= 181 Historian. Author Native Education in India,
and The Holy Roman Empire. _Pub. Har. Mac._
=Brydges, Sir Sam'l Egerton.= 1762-1837. A prolific writer in verse
and prose. Style often fantastic and eccentric.
=Buchanan, George.= 1506-1582. Scotch poet and historian. Wrote a
Latin version of the Psalms, and a Latin Hist. of Scotland. _See
Hallam's Lit. of Europe._
=Buchanan, Robert.= 184 Scotch poet. Author Idyls and Legends,
London Poems, Balder the Beautiful, etc. A writer of some power, but
one whose verse is marred by frequent affectations. _See Stedman's
Victorian Poets, and Contemporary Rev. November, 1873._ _Pub. Har.
Hou. Rou._
=Buckhurst, Lord.= See Sackville, Thos.
=Buckingham, Duke of.= See Villiers, George.
=Buckinghamshire, Duke of.= See Sheffield, John.
=Buckland, Francis Trevelyan.= 1826-1880. Naturalist. Son to W. B.
Author Curiosities of Nat. Hist., Familiar Hist. British Fishes, etc.
=Buckland, Wm.= 1784-1856. Geological writer of note.
=Buckle, Henry Thos.= 1822-1862. Historian. His great work, The Hist.
of Civilization, was left unfinished. His style is easy and flowing,
but his inferences and conclusions are frequently controverted. _See
Atlantic Monthly, Jan. and April, 1863._ _Pub. Apl._
=Budgell, Eustace.= 1685-1736. Essayist. Author of all the papers in
the Spectator signed X.
=Bull, George.= 1634-1710. Bp. St. David's. Theologian. An opponent of
Calvinism, against which his Latin treatise, Harmonia Apostolica, is
aimed.
=Bulwer-Lytton, Sir Edward Geo.= 1805-1873. Novelist and Poet. Several
of his 25 novels, like The Caxtons, My Novel, Harold, and Kenelm
Chillingly, are masterpieces of their kind. Others as well known are
Pelham, Zanoni, Last Days of Pompeii, Rienzi, etc. Richelieu, Money,
and Lady of Lyons are his most popular dramas. King Arthur and The
New Timon are two of his longer poems. _See Memoir, by Lord Lytton,
Quarterly Rev., Jan. 1865, Blackwood's Mag. Mar., 1873, and Tennyson's
poem The New Timon._ _Pub. Har._
=Bulwer-Lytton, Edward Robert.= "Owen Meredith." 183 Poet. Son
to preceding. Author of Lucile, Fables in Verse, The Ring of Amasis,
etc. His verse has melody and strength, but Lucile, his chief poem, a
novel in verse, is asserted to be a plagiarism. _See Stedman's
Victorian Poets._
=Bunyan, John.= 1628-1688. Allegorist. Author Pilgrim's Progress, Holy
War, etc. The first named is the most famous allegory in the world.
The product of a strong, vivid imagination, it holds the attention of
cultured and uncultured minds alike. _See Biographies of, by Southey,
and Macaulay, and Bunyan, by J. A. Froude in Eng. Men of Letters._
=Burke, Edmund.= 1730-1797. Orator and statesman. As a political
writer he has few equals. Among his best efforts are Letters on a
Regicide Peace, Letters to a Noble Lord, and Orations on the
Impeachment of Warren Hastings. Style polished and cultured. _See
Morley's Life of, 1867. See select works edited by E. J. Payne, 1874._
=Burnand, Francis Cowley.= 183 Author Happy Thoughts, The New
History of Sanford and Merton, etc. _Pub. Rob._
=Burnet, Gilbert.= 1643-1715. Bp. Salisbury. Historian. Author Hist.
Reformation, Hist. My Own Times, etc. A vivacious, diffuse narrator.
_See Macaulay's Hist. of England._ _Pub. Dut. Mac._
=Burnet, James.= Lord Monboddo. 1714-1799. An eccentric writer, noted
for his theory that mankind once had tails, which the habit of
sitting on had worn away.
=Burnet, Thos.= 1635-1715. Author Telluris Sacra Theoria, a fantastic
system of Geology, written in an eloquent and majestic style.
=Burney, Charles.= 1726-1814. Author Gen. Hist. of Music, Life of
Metastasio, etc. _See Life, by his daughter, Madame D'Arblay._
=Burney, Frances.= See D'Arblay, Madame.
=Burns, Robert.= 1759-1796. Scotch poet. A singer of love songs. His
verse shows a gentle, tender spirit, and a sympathy for all created
things, new to the poetry of his day. Tam O'Shanter, Twa Dogs, and The
Jolly Beggars, show the humorous side of his nature. The Cotter's
Saturday Night, Auld Lang Syne, A Man's a Man for a' That, are
universally known, and some of his lyrics will last as long as the
language. _See Carlyle's Misc. Essays; Craik's Eng. Lit. vol. 2; also
Burns, by Shairp, in Eng. Men of Letters._ _Pub. Apl. Har. Hou. Por._
=Burton, John Hill.= 1809-1881. Scotch historian. Author Life and
Correspondence of David Hume, Hist. Reign of Q. Anne, Hist. Scotland,
etc.
=Burton, Robert.= 1576-1640. Author of Anatomy of Melancholy. Style
fantastic, original, and diffuse. _Pub. Apl. Clx. Dut._
=Butler, Alban.= 1710-1773. Author Lives of the Fathers, Saints, etc.,
Letters on the Hist. of the Popes, etc. _See edition of the Lives,
1812, with Life of A. Butler by Chas. Butler._
=Butler, Charles.= 1750-1832. Neph. to A. B. Author Horae Biblicae,
continuation of the Lives of the Saints, etc. _See Alibone's Dict._
=Butler, Joseph.= 1692-1752. Bp. Bristol. Theologian. His great work,
Analogy between Natural and Revealed Religion, is much studied and
admired. _See edition of his works, 1867._ _Pub. Har._
=Butler, Samuel.= 1612-1680. Satirical poet. His Hudibras, written in
ridicule of the Puritans, is witty and spirited, but too long for the
taste of modern readers. _See edition of his works by Gilfillan,
1854._ _Pub. Apl._
=Butler, Wm. Archer.= 1814-1848. Author Lect. on Hist. of Ancient
Philosophy, etc. _See Woodward's Life of._ _Pub. Ca. Mac._
=Byrd, Wm.= 1540-1623. Poet. Author of the famous lines beginning, "My
mind to me a kingdom is."
=Byrom, John.= 1691-1763. Pastoral poet.
=Byron, Henry James.= 183 Dramatist. Author Babes in the Wood,
Our Boys, Not such a Fool as he Looks, Good News, etc.
=Byron, Lord.= See Gordon, George.
=Caedmon [k[=a]d'm[o)]n].= ---- c. 680. Anglo-Saxon poet. A monk of
Whitby, who wrote about 670 a metrical paraphrase of the Scriptures.
It is accented and alliterative, like all Anglo-Saxon poetry, and
marks the beginning of Eng. poetry. _See Thorpe's edition of, London,
1832._
=Calamy, Edmund.= 1600-1666. Theological writer.
=Calamy, Edmund.= 1671-1732. Grandson to preceding. Author of the
Nonconformists' Memorial, Defence of Moderate Nonconformity, etc. _See
his history of his Life and Times, edited by Rutt, 1829._
=Calverley, Chas. Stuart.= 183 Poet. Author of Fly-Leaves,
translation of Theocritus, etc. _Pub. Ho._
=Camden, Wm.= 1551-1623. Antiquary. Author of Britannia, a Latin
description of Britain, etc.
=Campbell, George.= 1709-1796. Scotch theologian. Author Dissertations
on Miracles, Philosophy of Rhetoric, Lect. on Eccl. Hist., etc. _Pub.
Har._
=Campbell, John.= 1708-1775. Historical and political writer.
=Campbell, John,= _Lord Chancellor_. 1779-1861. Biographer. Author
Lives of the Lord Chancellors, and Lives of the Chief Justices. _See
Edinburgh Rev. Oct. 1857; and see H. Martineau's Biographical
Sketches._ _Pub. Apl. Lit._
=Campbell, Thomas.= 1774-1844. Scotch poet. Author Pleasures of Hope,
Gertrude of Wyoming, etc., poems artificial in cast. His lyrics, like
Hohenlinden, Ye Mariners of England, etc., are fine specimens of lyric
verse. _See Life of by Dr. Beattie, 1849. See W. M. Rossetti's edition
of his poems with critical introduction._
=Canning, George.= 1770-1827. Writer of witty parodies. Needy
Knife-Grinder, etc.
=Carew, Lady Elizabeth.= Fl. c. 1613. Author of the tragedy of Marian.
=Carew, Thomas.= 1589-1639. Poet. His poems are brief and mainly
amatory in character. _See complete edition by W. Carew Hazlitt. See
Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 2._
=Carey, Henry.= 1663-1743. Dramatist and poet. Author
Chrononhotonthologos, The Dragon of Wantley, the ballad of Sally in
our Alley, and God Save the King.
=Carleton, Wm.= 1798-1869. Irish novelist. Style vigorous and
picturesque. _Pub. Rou._
=Carlyle, Thomas.= 1795-1881. Essayist and historian. Author of
Essays, Chartism, Heroes and Hero-Worship, Sartor Resartus, Past and
Present, Latter-Day Pamphlets, Life of Sterling, History French
Revolution, Life of Frederick the Great, etc. A vigorous, opinionated
writer, with a style which is vivid and picturesque, but often wordy
and obscure. A man of great but wayward intellectual powers. _See
Eclectic Mag. 1881. Reminiscences by Carlyle; Letters of Jane Welsh
Carlyle, and Emerson and Carlyle._ _Pub. Hon. Har. Lip._
=Carpenter, Lant.= 1780-1840. Theological writer.
=Carpenter, Wm. Benj.= 181 Physiologist of note. Son to L. C.
Author of Principles of Human Physiology, Zoology, and the Instinct of
Animals, The Microscope, etc. _Pub. Apl._
=Carr, J. Comyns.= 184 Art Critic and Editor. Author of Drawing
by the Italian Masters, St. Albans, Essays, etc.
=Carte, Thos.= 1686-1754. Historian. Author Hist. England to 1654.
=Carter, Elizabeth.= 1717-1806. Classical writer. Author of a
translation of Epictetus and original poems. The most learned woman of
her time.
=Cartwright, Wm.= 1611-1643. Poet. He enjoyed a great reputation in
his day.
=Carey, Henry Francis.= 1772-1844. Poet. Author of a much admired
blank verse translation of Dante. _See Memoirs of, by his son, 1847._
=Caxton, Wm.= 1412-1492. The first Eng. printer. Was author and
translator of some 60 books.
=Cayley, Arthur.= 182 Mathematical writer.
=Cecil [s[)e]s'il or sis'il], Wm.= 1520-1598. Statesman. Author of
Precepts addressed to his son.
=Centlivre [sent-l[)i]v'er], Mrs. Susanna.= 1680-1723. Dramatist. Her
best comedies are The Busybody and The Wonder, the last of which still
keeps the stage. _See Atlantic Monthly, June, 1882._
=Challoner, Bp. Richard.= 1691-1781. Author of an Eng. version of the
Bible, Grounds of the Catholic Doctrine, etc.
=Chalmers [chaw'merz], George.= 1742-1825. Scotch historian.
=Chalmers, Thomas.= 1780-1847. Scotch theologian. The most powerful
preacher of his time. Author of Natural Theology, Christian Evidences,
etc. _See Memoirs of, by Wm. Hanna; do. by F. Wayland; also, Spare
Hours, 1st series, by Dr. John Brown._ _Pub. Har._
=Chamberlayne, Wm.= 1619-1689. Poet. Author Love's Victory and
Pharonidia.
=Chambers, Robert.= 1802-1871. Scotch publisher. Author of the noted
Vestiges of the Nat. Hist. of Creation, etc. _See Memoirs of, by W.
Chambers._
=Chambers, Wm.= 1800-1883. Scotch publisher. Bro. to R. C. Author
Memoirs of Rob't Chambers, Wintering at Mentone, etc. The brothers
were joint editors of many popular works: Information for the People,
Encyclopaedia, Book of Days, Miscellany, etc. _Pub. Lip._
=Chapman, George.= 1557-1634. Dramatist. Chiefly noted for a fine
translation of Homer in 14-syllable verse. _See his Homer, 4 vols.,
London, 1858_; _Dramatic Works, 1873_; _George Chapman, by Swinburne._
=Chapone [sh[)a]-p[=o]n'], Mrs. Hester.= 1727-1801. Author of
treatises on Morals and Philosophy.
=Charles, Mrs. Elizabeth Rundle.= 182 Author of the noted
Schoenberg-Cotta Family, and other excellent semi-religious stories.
_Pub. Do._
=Charlesworth, Maria Louisa.= 1830-1880. Author of much religious
fiction, of which Ministering Children is the best example. _Pub. Apl.
Ca._
=Chatham, Lord.= See Pitt, Wm.
=Chatterton, Thomas.= 1752-1770. Poet. Author of imitations of old
Eng. poetry, which for a short time deceived the scholars of that day,
and as the work of a boy of 17 were very remarkable. _See Chatterton,
a Biographical Study, by Daniel Wilson, London, 1870._ _Pub. Hou._
=Chaucer, Geoffrey.= 1340-1400. Poet. Author of numerous lesser poems,
but The Canterbury Tales is his greatest work. He is rightly called
the Father of Eng. Song, since it is with him that Eng. poetry really
begins. He gave form to the language, and blended the French and Eng.
influences into a harmonious whole. His verse, in the main, is easy
and musical, and shows a love of nature. _See publications of the
Chaucer Society._ _Chaucer, by A. W. Ward._ _See Gilman's edition of
Chaucer in 3 vols., 1879._ _Pub. Hou._
=Chesterfield, Earl of.= See Stanhope, Philip.
=Chettle, Henry. Fl.= c. 1600. Dramatist. Prolific, but valueless.
=Chillingworth, Wm.= 1602-1644. Theologian. Author of Religion of
Protestants a Safe Way to Salvation, a celebrated work. _See Oxford
edition, 3 vols., 8vo, 1838._
=Chitty, Joseph.= 1776-1841. Jurist. Author of Practical Treatise on
Criminal Law, Synopsis of Practice, and other invaluable legal
text-books. _Pub. Lip._
=Chorley, Henry Fothergill.= 1808-1872. Musical critic. Author Thirty
Years' Musical Recollections, Criticisms on Modern German Music, etc.,
and of numerous songs and opera librettos. _See Autobiography, Memoirs
and Letters, 2 vols., London, 1873._ _Pub. Ho._
=Christmas, Henry.= See Noel-Fearn.
=Church, Alfred John.= 182 Stories from Homer, Stories from
Virgil, Poems, etc. Of the poems, Unseen is one of the best. _Pub.
Har._
=Church, Richard Wm.= 181 Author Life of Anselm, University
Sermons, Civilization before and after Christianity, Sacred Poetry of
Early Religions, Spenser in Eng. Men of Letters, etc. _Pub. Har. Mac._
=Churchill, Charles.= 1731-1764. Satirical poet. The Rosciad is his
chief work. Was at one time an extremely popular poet. _See Essay on,
by Macaulay._
=Cibber [s[)i]b'ber], Colley.= 1671-1757. Dramatist. Author of The
Careless Husband, She Would and She Would Not, and some 20 other
plays. _See his Apology for his Life._
=Clare, John.= 1793-1864. Pastoral poet. Author Poems of Rural Life
and Scenery, etc. Some of his verse has great beauty. _See J. L.
Cherry's Life of, London, 1873._
=Clarendon, Earl of.= See Hyde, Edward.
=Clarke, Adam.= 1760-1832. Irish bibliographer. Author Commentary on
the Bible, Bibliographical Dict., Succession of Sacred Lit., etc. An
industrious, careful writer. _Pub. Phi._
=Clarke, Charles Cowden.= 1787-1877. Author of Shakespeare Characters,
Moliere Characters, Riches of Chaucer, etc. _Pub. Scr._
=Clarke, Mrs. Mary Cowden.= 180 Wife to C. C. C. Shakespearean
scholar. Author of the noted Concordance of Shakespeare, World-Noted
Women, and several vols. of verse. With her husband was editor of an
annotated edition of Shakespeare, 1869. _Pub. Cas. Lit._
=Clarke, Samuel.= 1675-1729. Metaphysician. Author of numerous
metaphysical works written in a simple yet vigorous and eloquent
style.
=Cleveland, John.= 1613-1658. Poet. A famous Cavalier writer. His
verse is satirical and amatory in character.
=Clifford, Wm. Kingdon.= 1845-1879. Scientist. Author Lect. and
Essays, Elements of Dynamics, Seeing and Thinking, and Mathematical
Papers. _See biographical introduction to Lect. and Essays, by F.
Pollock._ _Pub. Mac._
=Clive, Mrs. Archer.= 180 Novelist. Author Paul Ferrol, Why Paul
Ferrol Killed his Wife, etc.
=Clough [kluf], Arthur Hugh.= 1819-1861. Author of The Bothie of
Tober-na Vuolich, Amours de Voyage, both hexameter poems, Dipsychus,
and minor poems. His verse shows a mastery of metre and a thoughtful,
earnest spirit. _See Atlantic Monthly, April, 1862_; _Hutton's Essays;
Matthew Arnold's Essays in Criticism_; _Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 4._
_Pub. Ho. Mac._
=Cobbe, Frances Power.= 182 Philosophical writer. Author of
Intuitive Morals, Religious Duty, Darwinism in Morals, The Peak in
Darien, Duties of Women, etc. A clear, able, and vigorous writer.
_Pub. El._
=Cobbett, Wm.= 1762-1835. Political writer. Style idiomatic and
rancorous. _See Robert Walker's How to Get on in the World, as
Demonstrated by the Life and Language of William Cobbett._
=Cobden, Richard.= 1804-1865. Statesman. _See Political Writings of
London, 1867_; _Speeches, etc., in London, 1870_; _Gilchrist's Life
of, 1865_; _and Recollections of, by Ashworth_. _Pub. Apl._
=Cockburn [k[=o]'burn], Henry Thos., Lord.= 1779-1854. Jurist. Author
Life and Correspondence of Lord Jeffrey, and Memorials of his Times.
=Coke, Sir Edward.= c. 1549-1634. Jurist. Best known by his famous
Coke upon Littleton, or the First Institute.
=Colenso, John Wm.= 1814-1883. Bp. Natal. Theologian. Author of The
Pentateuch and Joshua Critically Examined, Lect. on the Pentateuch and
Moabite Stone, etc. An able and vigorous writer.
=Coleridge [k[=o]l'r[)i]j], Hartley.= 1796-1849. Poet. Son to S. T. C.
Author of Poems, Essays, Life of Massinger, etc. Style in both prose
and verse clear and beautiful. _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 4._
=Coleridge, Henry Nelson.= 1800-1843. Neph. to S. T. C. Essayist.
Style able and scholarly.
=Coleridge, John Taylor.= 1790-1876. Neph. to S. T. C. Author of an
annotated Blackstone, Memoir of John Keble, etc.
=Coleridge, Samuel Taylor.= 1772-1834. Poet and philosopher. Author of
The Ancient Mariner, Christabel, Kubla Khan, etc., in verse; Lect. on
Shakespeare, Table-Talk, The Friend, Biographia Literaria, etc., in
prose. A man of great genius, who accomplished little commensurate
with it. His best, however, is unsurpassable. _See 9 vol. edition, N.
Y., 1853-4._ _See Gilman's Life of_; _Personal Recollections of Joseph
Cottle_.
=Coleridge, Sara.= 1803-1852. Dau. to S. T. C. and wife to H. N. C.
Editor of her father's works, and author of the exquisite romance
Phantasmion. A writer of much critical ability. _See Memoir of._ _Pub.
Har. 1873._
=Collier, Jeremy.= 1650-1726. Theologian. His famous pamphlet against
the immorality of the stage greatly helped to purify Eng. literature.
=Collier, John Payne.= 1789-1883. Shakespearean scholar. Best known in
connection with the famous Collier MSS. of Notes and Emendations to
the text of Shakespeare. _See Atlantic Monthly, Oct., 1859, and Sept.,
1861._ _Pub. Scr._
=Collins, Mortimer.= 1827-1876. Novelist. Author Sweet Anne Page,
Marquis and Merchant, etc. _Pub. Apl. Har._
=Collins, Wm.= 1720-1756. Poet. Famous for his musical odes, as The
Passions, Evening, and the poem How Sleep the Brave. C. occupies a
high place among minor poets. _See Johnson's Lives of the Poets._
=Collins, Wm. Wilkie.= 182 Novelist. Excels all other novelists
in the construction of plots. The Woman in White is his most famous
story. _Pub. Har._
=Colman, George.= 1733-1794. Dramatist. Composed nearly 30 comedies,
of which The Jealous Wife is one of the best.
=Colman, George.= The Younger. 1762-1836. Dramatist. Son to preceding.
A writer of spirited comedies, such as The Heir-at-Law, Poor
Gentleman, John Bull, The Iron Chest, etc.
=Combe [koom], Andrew.= 1797-1847. Scotch physiological writer. _Pub.
Har._
=Combe, George.= 1788-1858. Scotch phrenologist. Bro. to A. C. Author
Constitution of Man, etc. _See H. Martineau's Biographical Sketches
and Capen's Reminiscences of G. Combe._ _Pub. Har._
=Congreve [k[)o]ng'gr[=e]v], Wm.= 1670-1729. Dramatist. Author of the
tragedy of The Mourning Bride, and of The Double Dealer, Old Bachelor,
Love for Love, and other coarse but brilliant comedies. _See edition
by Leigh Hunt, London, 1849._
=Conybeare [k[)u]n'[)i]-b[)e]r], John.= 1692-1755. Theologian of note.
=Conybeare, John Josias.= 1779-1824. Grandson to J. C. Antiquary.
Author of Illustrations of Anglo-Saxon Poetry, a work of much value.
=Conybeare, Wm. Daniel.= 1787-1857. Geological writer of note.
=Conybeare, Wm. John.= ---- 1857. Theologian. Author with Dean Howson
of The Life and Epistles of St. Paul. _Pub. Ran. Scr._
=Cook, Eliza.= 181 Poet. Author of The Old Arm Chair, etc. Style
simple and tender.
=Coombe [koom], Wm.= 1741-1823. A voluminous satirical and humorous
writer, best known by his poem Dr. Syntax. _Pub. Rou._
=Cooper, Anthony Ashley.= 3d Earl of Shaftesbury. 1671-1713. Ethical
writer. Author of Characteristics of Men, etc.
=Copleston [kop'[e^]l-st[o^]n], Edward.= 1776-1849. Bp. Llandaff.
Theological writer.
=Corbet, Richard.= 1562-1635. Bp. Norwich. Poet of indifferent merit.
=Cornwall, Barry=. See Procter, B. W.
=Coryat, Thomas.= 1577-1617. Writer of travels. Best known by Coryat's
Crudities, entertaining, but full of affectations.
=Costello, Dudley.= 1803-1865. Novelist. Author Stories from a Screen,
Faint Heart Never Won Fair Lady, The Millionaire, etc.
=Costello, Louisa Stuart.= 1815-1870. Novelist and writer of travels.
Sister to D. C. Author of The Queen Mother, the Rose Garden of Persia,
etc.
=Cottle, Joseph.= 1770-1853. Poet. Best known, however, by his
Reminiscences of Coleridge and Southey.
=Cotton, Charles.= 1630-1687. Poet and translator of Montaigne.
=Cotton, Nathaniel.= 1721-1788. Poet. Author Visions in Verse,
Miscellanies.
=Cotton, Sir Robert.= 1570-1631. Antiquary and historical collector.
=Coverdale, Miles.= 1487-1568. Bp. Exeter. Translator, with Tyndale,
of the Bible. The first translation of the whole Bible was by C., and
appeared in 1635.
=Cowley, Abraham.= 1618-1667. Poet and essayist. His popularity, once
great, is now slight. His verse is ingenious, but contains little
poetic feeling. His most pretentious poem is The Davideis. _See
Aikin's edition, 3 vols., 1802._
=Cowper [koo'per or kow'per], Wm.= 1731-1800. Poet. His verse is
mainly religious or didactic, but his humorous ballad of John Gilpin
is widely famous. He was the author of many beautiful and well-known
hymns, of a long poem, The Task, and the exquisite Lines on My
Mother's Picture. Style quiet and meditative. _The best edition of C.
is that by Southey, with biography, 1838._ _See Cowper, by Goldwin
Smith, in Eng. Men of Letters._
=Cox, Sir George W.= 182 Historian. Author Hist. of Greece,
Mythology of the Aryan Nations, Tales of Ancient Greece, etc. _Pub.
Apl. Har. Ho._
=Coxe, Wm.= 1744-1828. Historian. Author Hist. House of Austria, Kings
of Spain, Memoirs of Duke of Marlborough, etc. A standard writer.
_Pub. Apl._
=Crabbe, George.= 1754-1832. Poet. Writer of realistic, matter-of-fact
narrative poems: The Village, The Parish Register, etc. _See complete
edition of 1834, 8 vols., with Life._ _See Atlantic Monthly, May,
1880, "A Neglected Poet."_
=Crabbe, George.= 1778-1834. Philologist. Author of Hist. Eng. Law and
a noted work on Eng. Synonyms. _Pub. Har._
=Craig-Knox, Mrs. Isa.= 183 Scotch poet. Author Ode to Burns,
Duchess Agnes, etc. _Pub. Cas._
=Craik, Mrs. Dinah Maria Mulock.= 182 Novelist and poet. Author
of quiet, helpful, earnest stories, among which John Halifax,
Gentleman, is the most noted. Others are, A Brave Lady, A Noble Life,
A Woman's Kingdom, Mistress and Maid, etc. Philip My King and Douglas
are two of her finest poems. _Pub. Har. Hou. Mac._
=Craik, George Lillie.= 1799-1866. Historian. Author of a valuable
Hist. Eng. Lit., The English of Shakespeare, Bacon and his Philosophy,
etc. _See Rolfe's Craik's English of Shakespeare._ _Pub. Scr._
=Cranmer, Thos.= 1489-1555. Abp. Canterbury. Theologian. _See
Archdeacon Todd's Life of, 1831._
=Crashaw [cr[)a]sh'aw], Richard.= c. 1620-1650. Poet. Author of Steps
to the Temple, etc. His verse is fanciful and mystical, but always
melodious. _See Turnbull's complete edition of London, 1858._ _See G.
MacDonald's England's Antiphon and Cornhill Mag., April, 1883._
=Creasy, Sir Edward Shepherd.= 1812-1878. Historian. Author Fifteen
Decisive Battles of the World, Hist. Ottoman Turks, Hist. of England.
_Pub. Ho. Har._
=Croker, John Wilson.= 1780-1857. Essayist and historical writer.
Style caustic and vigorous. _See H. Martineau's Biographical
Sketches._
=Croker, Thos. Crofton.= 1798-1854. Irish novelist. Author of romances
and fairy tales, the latter of great beauty.
=Croly, George.= 1780-1860. Irish poet. Author Angel of the World,
Catiline, etc. His verse has a showy, tinsel brilliancy. _Pub. Har.
Rou._
=Cruden [kroo'den], Alexander.= 1701-1770. Scotch theologian. Famous
as the author of the well-known Concordance to the Bible. _Pub. Lip.
Ran. Wh._
=Cudlip, Mrs. Annie Pender=, "Annie Thomas." 18-- ----. Novelist.
Author Denis Donne, A Passion in Tatters, Playing for High Stakes,
etc. _Pub. Har._
=Cudworth, Ralph.= 1617-1688. Philosopher. His True Intellectual
System ranks among Eng. prose classics. _See edition 1845, 3 vols._
=Cumberland, Richard.= 1632-1718. Bp. Peterborough. Philosophical
writer.
=Cumberland, Richard.= 1732-1811. Great-grandson to preceding. Poet
and dramatist. Wrote The West Indian, Wheel of Fortune, and other
rather sentimental comedies. _See edition of his dramas, by Jansen,
1813._
=Cumming, John.= 1810-1881. Scotch theologian and popular London
preacher. Author Apocalyptic Sketches, Fall of Babylon Foreshadowed,
etc.
=Cunningham, Allan=. 1785-1842. Scotch poet and critic. C. wrote many
spirited songs, among which A Wet Sheet and a Flowing Sea is best
known. Author Hist. British Painters, Life of Wilkie, etc. _See Poems
and Songs of, edited by Peter Cunningham, 1847._ _Pub. Har._
=Cunningham, John.= 1729-1773. Irish lyrical poet.
=Cunningham, John Wm.= 1780-1861. Poet.
=Cunningham, Peter.= 1816-1869. Son to A. C. Antiquary. Author
Handbook of London, Modern London, Memoir of J. M. W. Turner, etc.
=Dalrymple, Sir David.= 1726-1792. Scotch historian. Author Annals of
Scotland, etc.
=Dalrymple, John Hamilton.= 1726-1810. Scotch historian. Author
Memoirs of Great Britain.
=Daniel, Samuel.= 1562-1619. Poet and historian. D. wrote a Hist. of
the Civil Wars in 8-line stanzas, also a prose Hist. of England. _See
Campbell's Specimens of Eng. Poets._
=D'Arblay, Madame,= _nee_ =Frances Burney.= 1752-1840. Novelist.
Author Evelina, Cecilia, Camilla, etc. _See her Diary, pub. 1846; also
Contemporary Rev., Dec., 1882._ _Pub. Har. Rob._
=Darwin, Chas. Robert.= 1809-1882. Naturalist. The most notable
scientist of the age, and the originator of the Evolution Theory. He
had a clear, well-balanced mind, and his statements are based on
careful observation and reflection. Origin of Species, Variation under
Domestication, Expression of Emotion in Man and Animals, Descent of
Man, Insectivorous Plants, and Movements in Plants are his chief
works. _See Atlantic Monthly, June, 1882; Century Mag., Jan., 1883._
_Pub. Apl._
=Darwin, Erasmus.= 1731-1802. Grandfather to C. D. Poet and physician.
Author of The Botanic Garden, a hard, metallic poem of a scientific
cast, polished and elaborated to excess. _See Miss Seward's Memoirs
of; Craik's Eng. Lit., vol. 2; Krause's Life of._
=Davenant, Sir Wm.= 1605-1688. Dramatist. D. wrote 25 comedies and
tragedies, and the long and feeble heroic poem Gondibert. _See Ward's
Eng. Poets, vol. 2._
=Davies, Sir John.= 1570-1626. Poet. Author of Nosce Teipsum, a poem
on the immortality of the soul, of great power and beauty, and a
poetical treatise on dancing, entitled Orchestra. _See Grosart's
complete edition, 1876._ _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 1._
=Davy, Sir Humphrey.= 1778-1829. Chemist. Author Researches Chemical
and Philosophical, Elements of Chemical Philosophy, Consolations of
Travel, etc. _See Life and Works of, by John Davy, 9 vols., London,
1840._ _Pub. Rob._
=Day, Thomas.= 1748-1789. Author of the famous juvenile tale Sandford
and Merton. _Pub. Har. Hou. Rob._
=Defoe, Daniel.= 1661-1731. Political writer and novelist. His stories
form the link connecting the tales and romances of the 17th cent. with
the novel of the 18th. Moll Flanders, Capt. Singleton, and Robinson
Crusoe are among his chief works. Style lively, rapid, and realistic.
_See Oxford edition, 20 vols., 1840._ _See Life, by Lee, 3 vols.;
also, Defoe, by Wm. Minto, in Eng. Men of Letters._
=Dekker, Thomas.= c. 1570-1641. Dramatist. Author Satiriomastix, etc.
D. wrote mainly with other dramatists, but so far as his separate work
can be traced, it shows tenderness and pathos. _See Eng. edition of
Dekker, 1873._ _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 2._
=De la Rame [deh-lae-rae-m[=a]'], Louisa=, "Ouida." 184 Novelist.
Author of Strathmore, Moths, Bebee, Wanda, etc. An entertaining,
sprightly writer, of much genius, whose works are of a doubtful moral
tendency. _Pub. Lip._
=De Morgan, Augustus.= 1806-1871. Mathematician. Author Essays on
Probabilities, Formal Logic, Paradoxes and Problems, etc.
=Denham, Sir John.= 1615-1668. Poet. His poem Cooper's Hill shows fine
descriptive powers. _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 2._
=Dennis, John.= 1657-1734. Dramatist and critic. Author of A Plot and
No Plot, Appius and Virginia, The Usefulness of the Stage, The
Grounds of Criticism, etc.
=De Quincey, Thomas.= 1785-1859. Critic and essayist. A great master
of Eng. prose. He possessed great acuteness and fine descriptive
powers, but lacked creative ability. Confessions of an Opium-Eater and
Murder Considered as one of the Fine Arts are two of the best examples
of his style. _See Page's Life of, 1877; Biographical Sketches by H.
Martineau._ _Pub. Hou._
=Derby, Earl of.= See Stanley, Edward G. S.
=De Redcliffe, Lord Stratford.= 1788-1880. Poet and theologian.
=De Vere, Sir Aubrey.= 1788-1846. Irish poet. Author Julian the
Apostate, etc.
=De Vere, Aubrey Thos.= 181 Irish poet. Son to preceding. Author
May Carols, Irish Odes, The Sisters, etc. His verse is pleasing, and
possesses merit.
=De Vere, Edward.= Earl of Oxford. 1545-1604. Poet.
=Dibdin, Charles.= 1745-1814. Poet and miscellaneous writer. Author of
a complete Hist. of the Eng. Stage, but best known by his naval songs,
over 1200 in number. _For the latter, see Hogarth's edition, 1843._
=Dibdin, Thos.= 1771-1841. Son to C. D. A prolific song-writer and
playwright. Author of a Metrical Hist. of England, etc.
=Dibdin, Thos. Frognall.= 1776-1847. Bibliographer. Neph. to C. D.
Author Bibliomania, Typographical Antiquities of Gt. Britain,
Bibliographical Decameron, etc.
=Dicey, Edward Stephen.= 183 Journalist. Author Memoir of
Cavour, Rome in 1860, The Schleswig-Holstein War, etc.
=Dick, Thomas.= 1772-1857. Scotch writer. The Christian Philosopher is
his best known work. _Pub. Har. Clx. Phi._
=Dickens, Charles.= 1812-1870. Novelist. Author of some 30 novels and
tales, all bearing marks of genius and originality. He is widely read
and admired, and his novels delight readers of all ages. His principal
faults consist in elaborating and dwelling on the grotesque and
unattractive side of humanity, and in overstraining the pathetic
portions of his novels. Pickwick Papers, Nicholas Nickleby, Tale of
Two Cities, David Copperfield, Oliver Twist, and the Christmas Carol
are among the best of his works. _See Fields's Yesterdays with
Authors, and Lives by Forster and Mackenzie._ _Pub. Apt. Est. Har.
Hou. Le. Lip. Lit. Pet. Por. Rou. Os._
=Digby, Sir Kenelm.= 1603-1665. Philosophical writer.
=Digby, Kenelm Henry.= 180 Archaeologist. Author Mores Catholici,
The Broad Stone of Honor, etc. An industrious and careful writer.
=Dilke, Chas. Wentworth.= 1789-1864. Critical writer of note.
=Dilke, Sir Chas. Wentworth.= 184 Grandson to preceding.
Traveler and political writer. Author Greater Britain, The Fall of
Prince Florestan of Monaco, etc. _Pub. Har. Lip. Mac._
=Dillon, Wentworth.= Earl of Roscommon. 1633-1684. Poet. Essay on
Translated Verse is his chief work. Style elegant and cold.
=Disraeli [diz-r[=a]'el-ee], Benj.= 1805-1881. Novelist and statesman.
Son to I. D. A talented and successful writer, possessed of great
energy and strength of will. In his novels the leading people of his
time are satirized. Vivian Gray, his first novel, and Endymion, his
last, appeared fifty-five years apart. Others are Contarini Fleming,
Henrietta Temple, Coningsby, Venetia, Tancred, and Lothair, all
brilliant and showy productions. _Pub. Apl. Har._
=Disraeli, Isaac.= 1766-1848. An industrious writer of miscellaneous
works, the best known being Curiosities of Lit., Calamities of
Authors, Quarrels of Authors, etc. _See edition of, by his son, 1850._
_Pub. Arm. Har. Rou._
=Dixon, Wm. Hepworth.= 1821-1879. Historian and biographer. Author
Personal Hist. of Lord Bacon, New America, Hist. of Two Queens, Her
Majesty's Tower, etc. _Pub. Har. Lip._
=Dobell [d[)o]-bell'], Sydney.= 1824-1874. Poet. A writer who has an
honorable place among modern minor poets. Author of The Roman, Balder,
etc. _See Stedman's Victorian Poets; Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 4._ _See
complete English edition, 1875; also, Life and Letters of, London,
1879._
=Dobson, Austin.= 184 Poet and critic. Author Vignettes in
Rhyme, Proverbs in Porcelain, etc. An exceedingly graceful writer,
whose poems all show a cultivated imagination and much tenderness of
expression. Among the best are After Sedan, The Dead Letter, and The
Young Musician. Fielding, in Eng. Men of Letters, is his chief prose
work. _Pub. Ho._
=Doddridge, Philip.= 1702-1751. Moralist. Author Rise and Progress of
Religion in the Soul, Family Expositor, Hymns, etc. Style plain and
simple. _See edition of, Leeds, 1802, 10 vols.; also, Life and
Correspondence, 5 vols., London, 1831, and Life, by D. A. Harsha._
=Dodsley, Robert.= 1703-1764. Poet and publisher. Author Economy of
Human Life, etc. Best known by his Collection of Old Plays. _See
edition by W. Carew Hazlitt, 1875._
=Donne [d[)o]n], John.= 1573-1631. Poet and theologian. His
versification is rugged, and his style obscure and fantastic, but his
poems, both religious and amatory, contain much beauty of thought. His
seven Satires are vigorous efforts. _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 1._
_See Dean Alford's 6 vol. edition, 8vo, London, 1838._ _Pub. Hou._
=Doran, John.= 1807-1878. Biographer. Author Lives of Queens of the
House of Hanover, Monarchs Retired from Business, Hist. Court Fools,
New Pictures and Old Panels, etc. _Pub. Arm._
=Dorset, 6th Earl of.= See Sackville, Geo.
=Dorset, 1st Earl of.= See Sackville, Thos. See Buckhurst, Lord.
=Douglas, Gawain.= 1474-1522. Bp. Dunkeld. Scotch poet. D. was the
first metrical translator of Virgil in Gt. Britain. _See Ward's Eng.
Poets, vol. 1._ _See complete Eng. edition by J. Small, 1874._
=Dowden, Edward.= 184 Poet and Shakespearean scholar. Author
Shakespeare's Mind and Art, Southey, in Eng. Men of Letters, Poems,
etc. _Pub. Har._
=Drayton, Michael.= 1563-1631. Poet. His chief work is the Polyolbion,
a poetical description of Britain in 100,000 lines. A far better work
is the Nymphidia, an exquisitely graceful, mock heroic fairy poem.
_See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 1._
=Drummond, William= [of Hawthornden]. 1585-1649. Scotch poet. His
Sonnets are his best production. _See Memoirs by Masson, 1863._
_Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 1._
=Dryden, John.= 1631-1700. Poet and dramatist. His verse takes a wide
range: in satire we have Absalom and Achitophel, MacFlecknoe, etc.; in
theology, Religio Laici, Hind and Panther, etc.; in drama, some thirty
plays; in translation, his Virgil; and in lyric poetry, his
magnificent Ode for St. Cecilia's Day. D. had great genius, not always
worthily employed. His dramas, when not stilted, are licentious, and
as a satirist he is bitter, personal, and coarse. _See Masson's
Essays, and Lowell's Among My Books; also, Dryden, by Saintsbury, in
Eng. Men of Letters._ _Pub. Hou. Har. Rou._
=Dugdale, Sir Wm.= 1605-1685. Antiquary. Author Antiquities of
Warwickshire, and other valuable antiquarian works.
=Dunbar, Wm.= 1465-1530. Scotch poet. D. wrote The Thistle and Rose,
The Golden Terge, etc. His witty, striking, and original genius is
closely akin to that of Burns. _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 1._
=D'Urfey, Thos.= 1650-1723. Dramatist. Witty, but coarse and immoral.
=Dutt, Toru.= 1856-1877. Hindu poetess. A writer of much genius.
Ballads of Hindustan, and Sheafs Gleaned from French Fields, a vol. of
fine Eng. translations, are her chief works. _See Lit. World, June 17,
1882._
=Dyce, Alexander.= 1798-1869. Scotch Shakespearean scholar of note.
_See his edition of Shakespeare, with Glossary, 1867._
=Dyer, George.= 1755-1841. Author Hist. University of Cambridge, etc.
=Dyer, John.= 1698-1758. Welsh poet. Author Grongar Hill, The Fleece,
and Ruins of Rome. His verse is natural and unaffected. _See Ward's
Eng. Poets, vol. 3._
=Dyer, Thos. Henry.= 180 Historian. Author Hist. Modern Europe,
Ancient Athens, Hist. Kings of Rome, Hist. City of Rome, and Life of
Calvin. _Pub. Lit._
=Eadmer [[)e]d'mer].= ---- 1124. Bp. St. Andrews. Wrote a Latin Hist.
of his Own Time.
=Earle, John.= 1601-1655. Bp. Worcester. The reputed author of the
Micosmography, a remarkable vol. of studies of character.
=Eastlake, Sir Chas.= 1793-1865. Artist. Author Hist. Gothic Revival,
Materials for a Hist. Oil Painting, etc. _See Lady Eastlake's
Biography of, 1870._
=Eden [[=e]'den], Sir Fred'k Morton.= 1766-1809. Author of a valuable
Hist. of the Laboring Classes of England, etc.
=Edgeworth, Maria.= 1767-1849. Novelist. Author Rosamond, Castle
Rackrent, Belinda, Helen, etc. Style didactic, but entertaining. Her
juvenile tales are numerous and popular. _See Study of Miss Edgeworth,
by Mrs. Oliver, 1882._ _Pub. Har. Lip. Rou._
=Edwards, Amelia Blandford.= 183 Novelist and Egyptologist.
Author Barbara's History, Lord Brackenbury, etc. A writer of much
talent, whose rank among Eng. novelists is a high one. _See Lit.
World, June 4, 1881._ _Pub. Har. Por. Rou._
=Edwards, Mrs. Annie.= 18-- ----. Novelist. Susan Fielding, Ought We to
Visit Her? and Archie Lovell are among the best of her excellent
novels. _Pub. Sh._
=Edwards, Matilda Betham.= 183 Novelist. Cousin to A. B. E.
Author Doctor Jacob, Kitty, etc. Style clear and picturesque. _Pub.
Har. Lip. Rob._
=Edwards, Richard.= 1523-1566. Poet. Principal author of the famous
poetical collection of his day, The Paradise of Dainty Devices.
=Eliot, George.= See Evans, Marian.
=Ellicott, Chas. John.= 181 Bp. Gloucester and Bristol.
Theologian. Author The New Testament Commentary, Historical Lect. on
the Life of Christ, etc. _Pub. Arm. Dra. Dut._
=Elliott, Ebenezer.= 1781-1849. Poet. Known as the Corn-Law Rhymer.
His verse is earnest and ardent, and shows much feeling. _See Life of,
by Searle._ _See Eng. edition, 1876._
=Ellis, George.= 1745-1815. Antiquarian of note. Best known by his
valuable work, Specimens of Early Eng. Poets.
=Ellis, Sir Henry.= 1777-1869. Antiquarian writer.
=Ellis, Mrs. Sarah [Stickney].= 1812-1872. Author Women of England,
Daughters of England, Wives of England, Mothers of England, etc.
=Ellwood, Thos.= 1639-1713. Poet. Author of a dull poem entitled The
Davideis.
=Elphinstone [[)e]l'fin-st[o^]n], James.= 1721-1809. Scotch
grammarian.
=Elphinstone, Mountstuart.= 1779-1859. Historical writer. Author Hist.
of India, etc.
=Elyot [[)e]l'[)i]-[o^]t], Sir Thos.= c. 1495-1546. Moralist. Author
Defence of Good Women, etc.
=Emerson-Tennent, Sir James.= 1804-1869. Historical writer.
=Erskine, Thos.= 1750-1823. Jurist. _See Select Speeches, with Memoir
by Walford, 2 vols., 8vo, London, 1870._
=Etheridge, Sir George.= 1636-1694. Comic dramatist. Author of The
Comical Revenge, She Would if She Could, etc. Style sprightly and
witty. _See Living Age, Apr. 30, 1881._
=Evans, Marian=, "George Eliot." 1820-1880. Novelist and poet. A
complete list of her works comprises translations of Strauss's Life of
Jesus and Feuerbach's Essence of Christianity; the novels, Scenes of
Clerical Life, Adam Bede, Mill on the Floss, Silas Marner, Romola,
Felix Holt, Middlemarch, and Daniel Deronda; the long poems, Spanish
Gypsy, Agatha, Legend of Jubal, and How Lisa Loved the King, with a
few short ones; and a vol. of essays, entitled Impressions of
Theophrastus Such. The strength of her novels lies in their wonderful
delineations of character, their subtle analysis of motive as acted on
by circumstance, and the lofty wisdom that infuses the whole. They
awaken the best impulses of humanity, and appeal to all the finer
sympathies. Her style is strongly marked, often picturesque, and her
descriptions clear and distinct. Her poems, though containing many
beautiful passages, do not, with one or two exceptions, take a high
rank. The best one is probably the famous O May I Join the Choir
Invisible. _See George Eliot, by Mathilde Blind; Hutton's Essays;
Cent. Mag., Nov., 1881; Eclectic Mag., April, 1881; Lit. World, Feb.
24, 1883; and Galaxy Mag., June, 1869._
=Evelyn, John.= 1620-1706. Agricultural writer. Author of Sylva Terra
and a famous Diary, which accurately reflects the manners of his time.
_See Diary and Letters of, edited by John Forster, 1857._ _See London
edition, 1875._
=Faber Frederick William.= 1815-1863. Religious poet. Author of a
number of beautiful and popular Hymns. _Pub. Dut. Mur. Wh. Rou._
=Faber, George Stanley.= 1773-1854. Theologian. Author of The Sacred
Calendar of Prophecy, etc. Style clear and exact.
=Fabyan, Robert,= c. 1456-1512. Chronicler. Wrote a Concordance of
Histories, which begins with Brutus and ends with his own time.
=Fairfax, Edward.= ---- 1632. Poet. Author of a fine translation of
Tasso. _See Am. edition, 1855, 12mo._
=Falconer [fawk'ner], Wm.= 1730-1769. Scotch poet. Author of The
Shipwreck, a poem of considerable beauty, and a Marine Dict. _See
Campbell's Specimens of the Eng. Poets._ _Pub. Hou._
=Fanshawe, Sir Richard.= 1608-1666. Poet. Translator of Camoens's
Lusiad, and author of some graceful poems.
=Faraday, Michael.= 1791-1867. Chemist. Author of numerous scientific
works, The Chemistry of a Candle, Physical Forces, etc. _See Life and
Letters of, 1870, by J. Bruce Jones, Tyndall's Faraday as a
Discoverer, and Life, by J. H. Gladstone._ _Pub. Har. Rou._
=Farjeon, Benjamin Leopold.= 183 Novelist. Joshua Marvel, Grif,
Blade-o'-Grass, London's Heart, and Bells of Penraven are among his
best works. Style akin to that of Dickens. _Pub. Har._
=Farmer, Richard.= 1735-1797. Shakespearean scholar. Author Essay on
the Learning of Shakespeare.
=Farquhar [far'kwar or far'kaer], George.= 1678-1707. Irish dramatist.
A writer of brilliant, sparkling comedies, full of good feeling. The
Beaux' Stratagem and The Recruiting Officer are the best. _See his
comedies edited by Leigh Hunt._ _See Atlantic Monthly, March, 1882._
=Farrar, Frederic Wm.= 183 Theologian. Author Life of Christ,
Eternal Hope, Life and Epistles of St. Paul, Seekers after God, etc.
Of several stories by him, St. Winifred's is perhaps the best. _Pub.
Cas. Dut. Fu. Lip. Mac._
=Fawcett, Henry.= 183 Writer on Political Economy. Author Free
Trade and Protection, Pauperism--its Causes and Remedies, Manual of
Political Economy, etc. _Pub. Mac._
=Fawcett, Millicent Garrett.= 184 Wife to H. F. Author Tales in
Political Economy, Political Economy for Beginners, etc. _Pub. Mac._
=Feltham, Owen.= c. 1608-1677. Essayist. Author Divine and Moral
Resolves. Style pointed and sententious.
=Fenton, Elijah.= 1683-1730. Poet. Assisted Pope in translating the
Odyssey. His original verse is not unmusical.
=Ferguson, Adam.= 1724-1816. Scotch historian and philosopher. Author
Hist. of Civil Society, Hist. Progress and Termination of Roman
Empire, etc. Style clear and scholarly.
=Ferguson, James.= 1710-1776. Scotch philosophical and mathematical
writer.
=Fergusson, James.= 180 Scotch architectural writer of note.
Author Hist. of Architecture. _Pub. Lit._
=Fergusson, Robert.= 1750-1774. Scotch poet. Author of The Farmer's
Ingle, etc. _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 3._
=Ferrar, Nicholas.= 1592-1637. Religious writer. _See Atlantic
Monthly, Aug. 1871._
=Ferrier, James.= 1808-1864. Scotch metaphysician. His Institutes of
Metaphysics is a work of much learning and acuteness.
=Ferrier, Susan Edmonstone.= 1782-1854. Scotch novelist. Aunt to J.
F. Author of Marriage, The Inheritance, and Destiny. Her works show
much humor and are piquant in style. _See Eng. edition 1841._ _See
Temple Bar, Nov., 1878, and London Lit. World, March 31, 1882._ _Pub.
Har. Rou._
=Fielding, Henry.= 1707-1754. Novelist. With Richardson he founded a
new school of fiction, distinguished by a careful study of character
and a more truthful drawing of human nature than what had preceded.
Joseph Andrews, Amelia, and Tom Jones, though stamped with the
coarseness of his age, will continue to be read for their originality,
wit, and acute reflections. _See Thackeray's Eng. Humorists, Masson's
Novelists and their Styles, and Dobson's Fielding in Eng. Men of
Letters._ _Pub. Har. Lit. Rou._
=Finlay, George.= 1800-1875. Scotch historian. Author Hist. Greece
under the Romans, Hist. Byzantine and Greek Empires, Hist. Greece
under Ottoman and Venetian Dominion, and Hist. of the Greek
Revolution. A standard authority. _Pub. Mac._
=Fisher, Edward.= 1620-1660. Welsh theologian. Author of a noted
controversial work called The Marrow of Modern Divinity.
=Fitzgerald, Edward.= 1808-1883. Translator of note. Author of
scholarly translations of Omar Khayyam, Calderon, and AEschylus.
=Fitzgerald, Percy.= 183 Novelist and litterateur. Author
Romance of the English Stage, etc.
=Fitzgerald, Wm.= 181 Bp. Killaloe. Theologian. Author Holy
Scripture, The Ultimate Rule of Faith, Life of Butler, etc.
=Flamsteed, John.= 1646-1719. Astronomical writer.
=Fletcher, Sir Andrew= [of Saltoun]. 1663-1716. Political writer. _See
Erskine's Life of, 1792._
=Fletcher, Giles.= 1588-1623. Poet. Bro. to P. F. and cousin to J. F.
Author Christ's Victory and Triumph, a long poem in 8-line stanzas.
_See Works edited by Grosart, 1876._ _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 2._
=Fletcher, John.= 1576-1625. Dramatist. Colleague of Beaumont. Among
plays attributed solely to F. are Rule a Wife and Have a Wife,
Beggar's Bush, and the exquisite pastoral drama The Faithful
Shepherdess. He wrote, also, portions of Shakespeare's Two Noble
Kinsmen and Henry VIII., perhaps his finest effort being the famous
Wolsey Soliloquy in the latter. See Beaumont, F. _See Dyce's edition,
1843._ _See Lamb's Specimens of the Dramatic Poets, Schlegel's
Dramatic Lit., and Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 2._
=Fletcher, Mrs. Maria Jane.= [Jewsbury.] 1800-1833. Poet.
=Fletcher, Phineas.= 1584-1650. Poet. Bro. to G. F. and cousin to J.
F. F. wrote a long and curious allegorical and anatomical poem, The
Purple Island. The subject, fantastically and minutely treated, is the
human body. _See Southey's Early Eng. Poets._
=Florio, John.= 1545-1625. Grammarian.
=Fonblanque [f[)o]n-bl[)a]nk'], Albany.= 1797-1872. Journalist. Author
England under Seven Administrations. _See Life and Labors of, 1874._
=Foote, Samuel.= 1721-1777. Comic dramatist. The Liar and one or two
other farces of his still keep the stage. _See Fosters Essays and Life
by Coke, 1805._
=Forbes, Alexander Penrose.= 1817-1875. Bp. Brechin. Theologian.
Author Explanation of the Thirty-Nine Articles, etc. _See Memoir,
1876._ _Pub. Dut._
=Forbes, Archibald.= 183 Scotch journalist. Author Soldiering
and Scribbling, Glimpses through the Cannon Smoke, etc. _Pub. Osg.
Rou._
=Forbes, James David.= 1809-1868. Scientist. Author Theory of
Glaciers, etc. _See Life and Letters of by John C. Shairp, 1873._
=Ford, John.= 1586-1639. Dramatist. His plays all deal with unhappy
love, but are powerful though morbid. The Broken Heart, his best work,
is a masterpiece of pathos. His style possesses great beauty. _See
Moxon's edition Old Eng. Dramatists, and Swinburne's Essays and
Studies._
=Forrester, Mrs.= 18-- ----. Novelist. Author Dolores, Diana Carew,
Mignon, etc. _Pub. Lip._
=Forster, John.= 1812-1876. Essayist and biographer. Author lives of
Dickens, Goldsmith, Landor, Swift, Statesmen of the Commonwealth of
Eng., etc. _Pub. Apl. Har. Lip._
=Fortescue, Sir John.= c. 1395-1485. Legal writer. De Laudibus Legum
Angliae.
=Foster, John.= 1770-1843. Essayist. His style has both vigor and
beauty. _Pub. Ca._
=Fothergill, Jessie.= 18-- ----. Novelist. Author The First Violin,
Kith and Kin, One of Three, etc. _Pub. Ho._
=Fox, Chas. James.= 1749-1806. Orator and historian. _See edition of
his Speeches, 6 vols., London, 1815, and Life, by Geo. O. Trevelyan._
=Fox, George.= 1624-1690. Theological writer. Founder of the Society
of Friends. _See Life, by S. M. Janney._
=Fox, John.= 1517-1587. Martyrologist. Author of the famous Book of
Martyrs. _Pub. Cas. Clx._
=Francillon, R. E.= 184 Novelist. Author Under Slieve Ban, Rare
Good Luck, Queen Cophetua, etc. _Pub. Apl. Ho._
=Francis, Sir Philip.= 1740-1818. Political writer. Supposed author of
the famous Junius Letters, a series of powerful political tracts. _See
Junius, Johnson's Cyc._ _Pub. Rou._
=Fraser, James Baillie.= 1783-1856. Novelist and traveller. Author of
The Kuzzilbash, Hist. Persia, etc. _See Chambers Cyc. Eng. Lit., vol.
2._
=Freeman, Edward Augustus.= 182 Historian. Author Hist. Norman
Conquest, Wm. Rufus and Henry First, Hist. Architecture, Unity of
Hist., etc. An eminently thorough, accurate writer, whose Norman
Conquest is one of the most important of English histories. Style
animated and scholarly. _Pub. Ho. Mac._
=Fremantle, Wm. Henry.= 183 Theologian. Author The Gospel of the
Secular Life, Bampton Lect. 1883, etc. _Pub. Scr._
=Freer, Martha Walker.= 182 Historian. Author Life of Marguerite
of Navarre, Life of Henry III. of France, etc.
=Frere [freer], John Hookham.= 1769-1846. Poet. A writer of merit in
translation and in original verse. _See Eng. edition of, 2 vols.,
London, 1872._
=Friswell, James Hain.= 1827-1878. Essayist. Author Familiar Words,
The Gentle Life, Francis Spira and other Poems, etc. _Pub. Por._
=Froude [frood], James Anthony.= 181 Historian and essayist.
Author Hist. of England, The English in Ireland, Short Studies on
Great Subjects, The Nemesis of Faith, etc. His historical portraits
are brilliant and his historical grouping dramatic, but his judgments
of men and motives are open to criticism. All his works show great
labor and research. _Pub. Har. Scr._
=Froude, Richard Hurrel.= 1803-1836. Bro. to J. A. F. Religious
writer. _See Remains of, 4 vols., London, 1838._
=Fuller, Thomas.= 1608-1661. Historian and biographer. Author Ch.
Hist., Hist. of Worthies of England, Sermons, Holy State, etc. A
quaint, humorous, original writer of great eminence in his own day and
still read with pleasure. _See Life, by Russell, 1844._ _Pub. Dut.
Mac._
=Fullerton, Lady Georgiana.= 181 Novelist. Grantley Manor,
Constance Sherwood, Too Strange Not to be True, and Lady Bird, are
some of her works. _Pub. Apl. Cath. Pi._
=Furnivall, Fred'k James.= 182 Shakespearean scholar. Editor of
the Leopold Shakespeare.
=Fyffe, Chas. Alan.= 184 Historian. Author Modern Europe, Hist.
Greece in Appleton's Hist. Primers, etc. _Pub. Apl. Ho._
=Gale, Theophilus.= 1628-1678. Theologian. Author of The Court of the
Gentiles.
=Galt, John.= 1779-1839. Scotch novelist. Author Annals of a Parish,
Ayrshire Legatees, Life Lord Byron, etc. A prolific writer who has
carefully drawn Scotch provincial and peasant life. _See
Autobiography, 1834._ _Pub. Har._
=Gardiner, Sam'l Rawson.= 182 Historian. Author of The 30 Years'
War, 1618-1648. Eng. Hist. for Students, etc. _Pub. Ho._
=Garrett, Edward.= See Mayo, Mrs. Isabella.
=Garrick, David.= 1716-1779. Dramatist. Author Lying Valet, Miss In
her Teens, etc. _See Life, by Percy Fitzgerald, 1872._
=Garth, Samuel.= 1672-1719. Poet and physician. His mock epic, The
Dispensary, is a feeble work. _See Ward's English Poets, vol. 3._
=Gascoigne, Mrs. Caroline Leigh.= 181 Novelist and poet. Author
Doctor Harold, etc.
=Gascoigne, George.= 1530-1577. Poet. The Steel Glass his chief work.
_See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 1._
=Gaskell, Mrs. Elizabeth Cleghorn.= 1810-1865. Novelist and
biographer. Author of Ruth, Sylvia's Lovers, Wives and Daughters, Mary
Barton, etc. Her books are earnest and well written; Cranford, in
fact, is almost a classic work, and her Life of Charlotte Bronte is a
much-admired biography. _See Lit. World, July 1, 1882._ _Pub. Apl.
Har._
=Gast, John.= 1715-1788. Irish historian.
=Gatty, Alfred.= 181 Author The Vicar and His Duties, Study of
In Memoriam, etc.
=Gatty, Mrs. Margaret.= 1809-1873. Wife to A. G. Author Parables from
Nature, The Fairy Godmother, Proverbs Illustrated, Aunt Judy's Tales,
etc. _Pub. Ca. Put._
=Gauden, John.= 1605-1664. Bp. Worcester. His Ik[=o]n Basilik[=e]
professed to be the work of Charles I., of whose sufferings it was an
account, and its true authorship has occasioned much controversy.
=Gay, John.= 1688-1732. Poet and dramatist. G. wrote The Beggar's
Opera, a famous musical drama, and numerous other works. _See edition
of his Poems, London, 1806._ _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 3, and Gay's
Fables edited by Austin Dobson._ _Pub. Apl._
=Gell [j[)e]l], Sir Wm.= 1777-1836. Archaeologist. Author Topography of
Rome, etc.
=Geoffrey [j[)e]f'r[)i]] of Dunstable.= ---- 1146. Author of a miracle
play of St. Catherine [1110], usually considered the first dramatic
work in any modern language.
=Geoffrey of Monmouth.= c. 1100-1154. Bp. St. Asaph, Anglo-Saxon
Chronicler.
=Gibbon, Edward.= 1737-1794. Historian. Author of the Decline and Fall
of the Roman Empire; a masterly work, artistically conceived and
carried out, with great research and careful detail. See Milman's
edition, 1845. _See Autobiography edited by Milman, 1839._ _Pub. Har.
Por._
=Gifford, Wm.= 1757-1826. Critic and reviewer. G. wrote the Baviad and
Maeviad, two sharp literary satires, and as editor of the Quarterly
Review was author of many bitter, satirical reviews. _See Hazlitt's
Spirit of the Age._
=Gilbert, Wm.= 1540-1603. Philosophical writer. Author De Magnete.
=Gilbert, Wm.= 18-- ----. Novelist. Author De Profundis, etc.
=Gilbert, Wm. Schevenck.= 183 Dramatist and humorous poet; son
to preceding. Author of The Bab Ballads, Original Plays, and of the
librettos of Pinafore, Pirates of Penzance, The Sorcerer, Patience,
Iolanthe, etc. _See Scribner's Mag., Sept. 1879._ _Pub. Por. Rou.
Scr._
=Gilchrist, Alexander.= 1827-1861. Biographer and art writer. Author
lives of Blake and Etty.
=Gildas.= fl. c. 510. Anglo-Latin Chronicler. _See Stevenson's
edition, London, 1838._
=Gilfillan, George.= 1813-1878. Scotch miscellaneous writer. Author
Gallery of Literary Portraits, Life of Walter Scott, Bards of the
Bible, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Gilfillan, Robert.= c. 1798-1850. Scotch poet.
=Gillies, John.= 1747-1836. Scotch historian. Author Hist. Ancient
Greece, etc.
=Gilpin, John.= 1724-1804. Critic and biographer. Author Life of
Bernard Gilpin, etc.
=Giraldus, Cambrensis.= 1147-1216. Welsh historian and poet.
=Girdlestone, Chas.= 1797-1881. Religious writer. Author Concordance
to the Prayer-Book, etc.
=Gladstone, Wm. Ewart.= 180 Statesman and essayist. Author of
Juventus Mundi, Homeric Studies, The Vatican Decrees, etc. Style
polished and able. _See Sketch of, by H. W. Lucy, Short Life of, by C.
H. Jones, and Life, by Geo. Barnett Smith._ _Also Harper's Mag.,
April, 1882._ _Pub. Apl. Har. Scr._
=Gloucester [gl[)o]s-ter], Robert of.= fl. c. 1280. Rhyming
chronicler.
=Glover, Richard.= 1712-1785. Poet. Author of Leonidas, an epic,
Hosier's Ghost, etc. _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 3._
=Godwin, Mrs. Mary Wollstonecraft.= 1759-1797. Wife to W. G. Author
Vindication of the Rights of Women, etc. Style bold and able. _See
Atlantic Monthly, Dec. 1880._
=Godwin, Wm.= 1756-1836. Philosopher and novelist. Author Caleb
Williams, St. Leon, Cloudesly, Answer to Malthus, Political Justice,
etc. _See Life, by Kegan Paul, 1876, and Leslie Stephen's Hours in a
Library._ _Pub. Har._
=Goldsmith, Oliver.= 1728-1774. Irish poet and novelist. A writer of
great delicacy and purity of sentiment, possessing a simple,
delightful style. His poems, The Deserted Village and The Traveller,
are charming pieces of description; his comedies, The Good-Natured Man
and She Stoops to Conquer, are bright and sparkling, the latter being
perennially fresh; and his novel, The Vicar of Wakefield, is an Eng.
classic. _See Lives, by Prior, Forster, W. Irving, and Goldsmith by
Wm. Black in Eng. Men of Letters._ _See Select Poems of, edited by
W.J. Rolfe._ _Pub. Clx. Har._
=Good, John Mason.= 1764-1827. Physician and miscellaneous writer.
Author Study of Medicine, The Book of Nature, Medical Technology, etc.
_Pub. Har._
=Gordon, George, Lord Byron.= 1788-1824. Childe Harold, Prisoner of
Chillon, and Don Juan are his finest poems. A writer of great power
and strong personality, whose talent was warped by license and
self-will. Don Juan, his most brilliant poem, sins deeply against
morality. Manfred, The Giaour, and Lara are striking poems. _See Lives
by Galt, Moore, E. Brydges, Lake, and Elze; also, Byron, by Nichols,
in Eng. Men of Letters, and the Real Lord Byron by J. C. Jeaffreson._
_See Quarterly Rev., July, 1868, and prefaces to respective editions
by Wm. Rossetti and A. C. Swinburne._
=Gore, Mrs. Catherine Grace.= 1799-1861. Novelist. A prolific writer
of society tales. Author of The Cabinet Minister, The Royal Favorite,
etc. _Pub. Har._
=Gosse, Edmund W.= 184 Poet and critic. Son to P. H. G. Author
of Viol and Flute, King Erik, New Poems, Grey in Eng. Men of Letters,
etc. A lyrist of much merit. _See Harper's Mag. May, 1882, "Some
London Poets."_ _Pub. Har. Ho._
=Gosse, Philip Henry.= 181 Zoologist. Author Romance of Natural
Hist., Marine Zoology, Evenings with the Microscope, etc. _Pub. Apl.
A. T. S. Lip._
=Goulbourn, Edward Meyrick.= 181 Religious writer. Author
Thoughts on Personal Religion, The Holy Catholic Ch., Pursuit of
Holiness, etc. _Pub. Apl._
=Gould, Baring.= See Baring-Gould.
=Gower, John.= 1350-1402. Poet. G. wrote the Speculum Meditantis, in
French, Vox Clamantis, in Latin, and Confessio Amantis in Eng. _See
edition, 3 vols. 8vo, London, 1857._ _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 1;
also Rolfe's edition of Pericles._
=Graeme [gr[=a]m], John.= 1748-1772. Scotch poet.
=Graham, Ennis.= See Molesworth, Mrs.
=Grahame, James.= 1765-1811. Scotch poet. Author of The Sabbath, etc.
=Grahame, James, Marquis of Montrose.= 1612-1650. Lyric poet. Author
of the famous lyric My Dear and Only Love. _See Biographies by Napier,
1856, and Grant, 1858._
=Grahame, James.= 1790-1842. Scotch historian. Author Hist. U. S.,
etc. Style dignified and impartial.
=Granger, James.= 1716-1766. Historian. Author Biographical Hist. of
England.
=Grant, Mrs. Anne= [of Laggan]. 1755-1838. Scotch poet and
miscellaneous writer. Author Memoirs of an American Lady [1808], etc.
_See Memoirs and Correspondence of, 3 vols., 1844._ _Pub. Mu._
=Grant, James.= 180 Journalist. Author of The Bench and the Bar,
Sketches in London, etc.
=Grant, James.= 182 Scotch novelist. Author Hist. of India, and
a long list of novels which do not take a very high rank. _Pub. Cas.
Rou._
=Grattan, Thos. Colley.= 1796-1864. Irish novelist and poet. Author
Highways and Byways, Hist. of the Netherlands, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Gray, David.= 1831-1861. Scotch poet. Author of The Luggie, etc. _See
H. G. Bell's edition, 1874._ _See R. Buchanan's David Gray and Other
Essays, 1868._
=Gray, Thomas.= 1716-1771. Poet. Author of The Bard, Progress of
Poesy, Elegy in a Country Churchyard, etc. A writer of much refinement
of expression and quiet sentiment. The calm beauty of the Elegy has
made it one of the most popular of Eng. poems. _See Gray, by E. W.
Gosse, in Eng. Men of Letters, Mason's Biog., 1778, and Selected Poems
of, edited by W. J. Rolfe._
=Green, John Richard.= 1837-1883. Historian. Author Short Hist. of the
Eng. People, The Making of England, Stray Studies, Hist. of the Eng.
People, etc. A picturesque, accurate writer, with great originality
and clearness of style. _See N. Y. Nation, March 29, 1883,
Contemporary Rev., May, 1883, Journal of Education, June, 1883,
British Quarterly Rev., July, 1883, and Fortnightly Rev., May, 1883._
_Pub. Apl. Har. Mac._
=Green, Matthew.= 1696-1737. Poet. The author of a curious reflective
poem called The Spleen. _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 3._
=Greene, Robert.= 1560-1592. Dramatist. A prolific writer of humorous
plays, but now best known by his confession entitled Greene's Groat's
Worth of Wit bought with a Million of Repentance. _See Ward's Eng.
Poets, vol. 1._
=Greenwell, Dora.= 1821-1882. Poet and miscellaneous writer. Author
Stories That Might be True, The Patience of Hope, John Woolman, Camera
Obscura, A Present Heaven, etc. _Pub. Dut._
=Greg, Wm. Rathbone.= 1812-1881. Essayist. Author of Rocks Ahead,
Enigmas of Life, Literary and Social Judgments, Creed of Christendom,
etc., works of a thoughtful, pessimistic cast. _See Macmillan's Mag.,
June, 1883._ _Pub. Ho._
=Grenville, George, Lord Nugent.= 1788-1850. Author Memorials of
Hampden, Lands Classical and Lay, etc.
=Greville, Sir Fulke, Lord Brooke.= 1554-1628. Poet and philosopher.
Author Life of Sydney, etc. _See Grosart's edition of, 1870._ _See
Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 1._
=Griffin, Gerald.= 1803-1840. Irish poet and novelist. Author of The
Collegians, etc. _See complete Eng. edition by Griffin, 1857._ _Pub.
Rou. Sad._
=Grindon, Leopold Hartley.= 181 Author Life--its Nature,
Varieties, and Phenomena, The Shakespeare Flora, etc. _Pub. Lip._
=Grosseteste [gr[=o]s-test], Robert.= c. 1175-1253. Bp. London.
Anglo-Norman poet.
=Grote, George.= 1794-1871. Historian. Best known by his Hist. of
Greece, a standard work. _See Life, by Mrs. Grote, 1873._ _Pub. Har.
Lit._
=Grove, George.= 182 Musical critic. Author Dict. of Music and
Musicians, etc. _Pub. Mac._
=Guest, Lady Charlotte.= See Schreiber, Lady Charlotte.
=Gunter, Edmund.= 1581-1626. Mathematical writer. Inventor of the
terms co-sine, co-tangent, etc. The phrase "according to Gunter" arose
from his scale of measurement being the standard one.
=Gurney, Joseph John.= 1788-1847. Philanthropist. Author Notes on
Prison Discipline, and numerous religious works. _Pub. Lip._
=Guthrie [g[)u]th'r[)i]], Thomas.= 1803-1873. Scotch philanthropist.
Author Plea for Ragged Schools, Man and the Gospel, Out of Harness,
etc. _See Life, 1873._ _Pub. Ca._
=Guthrie, Wm.= 1708-1770. Scotch historian. Author Hist. of England,
Hist. of Scotland, etc. His works have been entirely superseded by
later authorities.
=Habington, Wm.= 1605-1654. Poet. An ingenious writer of love poems.
_See Eng. edition by Arber, 1870._ _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 2._
=Hailes, Lord.= See Dalrymple, Sir D.
=Hakluyt [h[)a]k'loot], Richard.= 1553-1616. Chronicler and
geographer. Hakluyt's Voyages is an important collection of narratives
of earlier or contemporary voyages. _See edition of, 5 vols. 4to,
London, 1809-12._
=Hale, Sir Matthew.= 1609-1676. Moral and religious writer. _See Life
by Burnet in Wordsworth's Ecclesiastical Biog._
=Hales, John.= 1584-1656. Polemical writer. Styled "The Ever
Memorable." Chiefly noted for his Golden Remains. _See Life by Des
Maizeaux._
=Hales, Stephen.= 1677-1761. One of the earliest writers on vegetable
physiology.
=Hales, Wm.= 1769-1831. Irish theologian.
=Haliburton, Thos. Chandler.= 1805-1865. Nova Scotian humorist. Author
Sam Slick, etc. _Pub. Di. Har. Hou. Rou._
=Halifax, Earl of.= See Montagu, Chas.
=Halifax, Marquess.= See Saville, George.
=Hall, Mrs. Anna Maria.= 1805-1881. Wife to S. C. H. Irish novelist
and miscellaneous writer. Author Sketches of Irish Character, The
Outlaw, The Whiteboy, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Hall, Basil.= 1798-1844. Scotch writer of travels.
=Hall, Edward.= ---- 1547. Chronicler. A minute and valuable writer.
=Hall, Joseph.= 1547-1676. Bp. Norwich. Theologian and satirist.
Sometimes styled the founder of Eng. satire. A vivacious and excellent
writer. _See edition 1837. See Hannay's Satire and Satirists, and
Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 1._
=Hall, Newman,= 181 Congregationalist religious writer. Author
Come to Jesus, The Forum and the Vatican, etc. _Pub. Phi. Sh._
=Hall, Robert.= 1764-1831. Baptist religious writer. Author Sermons on
Modern Infidelity, Reflections on War, etc. Style scholarly, eloquent,
and refined. _See Works of, with Memoir, by O. Gregory, 6 vols.,
London; also, Biog. by J. W. Morris, 1846, and Life by Paxton Hood._
=Hall, Samuel Carter.= 180 Miscellaneous writer. Author The
Stately Homes of England, Book of Memories, Retrospect of a Long Life,
etc. _Pub. Apl._
=Hallam, Arthur Henry.= 1811-1833. Poet and essayist. Son to H. H. A
young writer whose loss inspired Tennyson's In Memoriam. _See Remains,
with Life, by his father, 1834; Remains in Verse and Prose, 1862. See
Life, by Dr. John Brown; also, Atlantic Monthly, Dec. 1860._
=Hallam, Henry.= 1777-1859. Historian and critic. Author Hist. Middle
Ages, Constitutional Hist. England, Lit. of Europe, etc. An impartial
writer whose works are of great value, but whose style lacks animation
and freshness. _See H. Martineau's Biographical Sketches._ _Pub. Arm.
Har. Lit._
=Halliwell-Phillips, James Orchard.= 182 Shakespearean scholar.
Editor of Shakespeare, 16 vols. folio, 1865. Author Dict. Archaic
Words, Life of Shakespeare, Last Days of Shakespeare, etc.
=Hamerton [h[)a]m'er-ton], Philip Gilbert.= 183 Art Critic.
Author Thoughts on Art, A Painter's Camp, The Unknown River, The
Intellectual Life, etc. A writer of authority in his department. Style
graceful and refined. _Pub. Mac. Rob._
=Hamilton, Mrs. Elizabeth.= 1758-1816. Scotch writer. Best known by
her Letters of a Hindoo Rajah and The Cottagers of Glenburnie. _See
Chambers' Cyc. Eng. Lit._
=Hamilton, Sir Wm.= 1788-1856. Scotch metaphysician. Author
Discussions on Philosophy, etc. His clear, dignified style is much
admired. _Pub. Apl._
=Hannay, James.= 1827-1873. Novelist and miscellaneous writer. Author
Singleton Fontenoy, Studies on Thackeray, etc. _Pub. Har. Rou._
=Hardy, Thomas.= 184 Novelist. Author Far From the Madding
Crowd, The Return of the Native, A Pair of Blue Eyes, Two on a Tower,
etc. A novelist of high rank. His character-drawing is sharp and
incisive, his studies of peasant life truthful and sympathetic, and
his descriptive passages masterly. _Pub. Ho._
=Hare, Augustus Julius Charles.= 183 Neph. to J. C. H. and A. W.
H. Author Walks in London, Walks in Rome, Days Near Rome, Memorials of
a Quiet Life, etc. _Pub. Por. Ran. Rou._
=Hare, Augustus Wm.= 1793-1834. Author Alton Sermons, etc. _Pub. Ran.
Rou._
=Hare, Francis.= 1688-1740. Bp. Chichester. Controversial writer.
=Hare, Julius Chas.= 1796-1855. Bro. to A. W. H., and with him author
of Guesses at Truth. Author Life of Sterling, Victory of Faith, etc.
_Pub. Dut. Mac._
=Harrington, James.= 1611-1677. Political philosopher. Author of The
Oceana.
=Harrington, John.= 1534-1582. Poet. _See Hannah's Courtly Poets._
=Harrington, Sir John.= 1561-1612. Poet. Son to preceding. First
English translator of Ariosto.
=Harrison, Frederic.= 183 Positivist and philosopher. Author
Order and Progress, The Meaning of History, etc., and translator of
Comte's Social Statics.
=Hartley, David.= 1705-1757. Philosopher. Observations on Man his
chief work.
=Harvey, Gabriel.= 1545-1637. Poet. One of the first to write English
hexameter.
=Harvey, Wm.= 1578-1657. Physician. Discoverer of the circulation of
the blood. _See Works of, edited by the Sydenham Society, London,
1847._
=Havergal, Frances Ridley.= 1836-1879. Author of much devotional
verse. _Pub. Dut. Ran._
=Haweis [hoys], Hugh Reginald.= 183 Religious and miscellaneous
writer. Author Thoughts for the Times, Speech in Season, Current Coin,
Arrows in the Air, Poets in the Pulpit, Unsectarian Family Prayer,
Music and Morals, Pet, or Pastimes and Penalties, Ashes to Ashes, and
My Musical Life. _Pub. Har. Ho._
=Haweis, Mrs. Mary Eliza [Joy].= 185 Wife to H. R. H. Author
Chaucer for Children, Chaucer for Schools, Chaucer's Beads, The Art of
Beauty, The Art of Dress, The Art of Decoration, and Beautiful Houses.
The illustrations and cover designs of her own and her husband's works
are by Mrs. Haweis. _Pub. Har._
=Hay, Mary Cecil.= 184 Novelist. Author of Old Myddleton's
Money, The Arundel Motto, The Squire's Legacy, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Hayley, Wm.= 1745-1820. Poet. Of mediocre ability, but once very
popular. Author Life Wm. Cowper, etc. _See Autobiography, 1823._
=Hayward, Mrs. Eliza.= 1693-1756. Author of The New Utopia, The Female
Spectator, etc. A voluminous writer of miscellaneous works of slight
merit.
=Hazlitt, Wm.= 1778-1830. Critical essayist. Author Table-Talk, Lect.
on Shakespeare, Lect. on the Eng. Poets, etc. His criticisms on art
and the drama are of high order. His style is picturesque and his
imagination rich, but his works are sometimes deficient in moderation
and judgment. _See Life of, by his grandson, 1867._ _Pub. Lip._
=Hazlitt, Wm. Carew.= 184 Grandson to W. H. Litterateur. Author
Hist. Venetian Republic, Memoirs Wm. Hazlitt, Handbook to Early Eng.
Lit. etc.
=Head, Sir Francis Bond.= 1793-1875. Miscellaneous writer. Among his
numerous works Bubbles from the Brunnen of Nassau is one of the best
known. _Pub. Har._
=Heber, Reginald.= 1783-1826. Poet. Bp. Calcutta. A talented writer,
best known by his hymns, viz.: The Missionary Hymn, Holy, Holy, Holy,
and Epiphany. _See Life, by Mrs. Heber, 1830._ _Last Days of Heber, by
Robinson, and Memoirs by Potter and Taylor._
=Hector, Mrs. Annie Alexander. "Mrs. Alexander."= 182 Irish
novelist. Author of The Wooing O't, Her Dearest Foe, The Freres, The
Admiral's Ward, Which Shall It Be, etc. Style fresh, healthful, and
pleasing. _Pub. Ho._
=Helps, Sir Arthur.= 1818-1875. Historian and essayist. Author Hist.
of the Spanish Conquest in America, Realmah, Casimir, Maremma, etc.
His style is quiet and graceful, and Friends in Council, his best
work, is strong and helpful. _Pub. Har. Rob. Rou._
=Hemans [h[)e]m'anz], Mrs. Felicia Dorothea.= 1793-1835. Poet. Without
possessing great force some of her poems have yet taken a firm hold
upon popular sympathies. Casabianca, Graves of a Household, and The
Pilgrim Fathers are examples. Her verse is graceful and sweet, but not
strong. _See Memorials of, by H. F. Chorley, 1836._ _Pub. Lip. Por.
Rou._
=Henry VIII.= 1491-1547. Author of controversial, anti-Lutheran
treatises. _See Brewer's edition of, 1862._
=Henry, Matthew.= 1662-1714. Theologian. Author of a noted Exposition
of the Bible, of which the best edition is that of London, 1869. _See
Lives by Tony and Williams._ _Pub. Ca._
=Henry, Robert.= 1718-1790. Scotch historian. His Hist. of Gt. Britain
was the first to take account of manners and the state of society from
a purely historical basis.
=Henryson, Robert.= fl. c. 1490. Scotch poet. H. wrote the beautiful
pastoral of Robin and Makyne, found in Percy's Reliques. _See Ward's
Eng. Poets, vol. 1._
=Herbert, Lord Edward.= 1581-1648. Historian and theologian. His De
Veritate is a plea for Deism. Style dignified and able. _See
Autobiography, edited by W. D. Howells._ _Pub. Hou._ _See Lord Herbert
de Cherbury by Chas. de Remusat, Paris, 1874._
=Herbert, George.= 1593-1632. Religious poet. Bro. to preceding.
Author of The Temple. His verse is elevated in tone, but marred by
quaint and fantastic conceits. _See Lives, by Walton, 1670, and
Duyckinck, 1858._ _See Grosart's edition, with Memoir, 1875._
=Herbert, Wm.= 1778-1847. Poet. Author of some spirited translations
from the Norse and other tongues, and of some excellent original
poems.
=Herrick, Robert.= 1591-1674. Poet. Author of Hesperides, etc. A
skillful lyrist whose airy gracefulness will always continue to
delight. _See Grosart's complete edition of, 1877; also, Abbey's
Illustrated Selections from, 1882._ _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 2,
and Temple Bar, May, 1883._
=Herschel, Caroline Lucretia.= 1750-1840. Astronomer. Author Catalogue
of Stars. _See Life and Correspondence of, 1876._ _Pub. Apl._
=Herschel, Sir John Frederick Wm.= 1792-1871. Astronomer. Neph. to C.
L. H. Author Study of Nat. Philosophy, Outlines of Astronomy, Physical
Geography, etc. _Pub. Apl. Har. Rou._
=Hervey, Lord John.= 1696-1743. Author Memoirs Reign of George II.
_See edition of, 1848, with Life by J. W. Croker._
=Hervey, James.= 1714-1758. Moralist. Author Meditations, etc. _Pub.
Ca._
=Heylin, Peter.= 1600-1662. Microcosmus is his most noted work.
=Heywood, Jasper.= 1535-1598. Son to J. H. Author of rhymed
translations of Seneca.
=Heywood, John.= 1506-1565. Dramatist. Writer of grotesque Interludes.
=Heywood, Thomas.= ---- 1640. Dramatist. Was a frequent colleague of
other dramatists, and a writer of much talent, with a tender, graceful
style. _See complete edition of, London, 1874, 6 vols._
=Hoadley, Benj.= 1670-1761. Bp. Winchester. Theological writer.
=Hoadley, Benj.= 1706-1757. Dramatist. Son to preceding.
=Hobbes, Thos.= 1588-1679. Philosopher. A profound thinker, whose
Leviathan, a treatise on monarchical government, is his best known
work. _See Molesworth's complete edition of, 16 vols., London, 1845._
=Hogg, James.= 1770-1835. Scotch poet. Called "The Ettrick Shepherd."
Author of The Queen's Wake, etc. Style diffuse, but graceful and
imaginative. _See Collected Works, 1869._
=Holcroft, Thomas.= 1745-1809. Dramatist. Best known by his novel The
Marriage of Figaro, and his famous comedy The Road to Ruin. _See
Memoirs, edited by Hazlitt, 1816._
=Holinshed, Raphael.= ---- c. 1580. Chronicler. From him Shakespeare
drew in part the stories of Cymbeline, Henry VI., Richard II., Richard
III., Henry IV., Henry V., Macbeth, Lear, and Henry VIII.
=Holyoake, George Jacob.= 181 Writer on social science. Author
of The Logic of Facts, Hist. of Cooperation in England, etc. _Pub.
Lip._
=Home, Henry, Lord Kames.= 1696-1782. Scotch philosopher. Author
Elements of Criticism, etc. _See Life, by A. F. Tytler._ _Pub. Por.
Sh._
=Home, John.= 1724-1808. Dramatist. H. wrote the once popular play
Douglas, which contains the famous lines, "My name is Norval," etc.
_See complete works of, with Life, by Mackenzie, 3 vols., 8vo,
Edinburgh, 1822._
=Hone, Wm.= 1779-1842. Satirist. Chiefly known by his compilations;
as, The Every-Day Book, The Table-Book, etc.
=Hood, Edwin Paxton.= 182 Biographer. Author Lives of Wordsworth
and Swedenborg, The Uses of Biography, etc. _Pub. Arm. Do. Lip._
=Hood, Thomas.= 1798-1845. Poet and humorist. A writer whose fame as a
wit has overshadowed his merits as a poet. His style, when not
professedly humorous, is tender and graceful. For moral earnestness
The Bridge of Sighs and The Song of the Shirt cannot be surpassed.
_See E. P. Sargent's edition, Pub. Apl.; also, F. J. Child's edition._
_Pub. Dut. Hon. Por. Put. Rou._
=Hood, Thomas.= 1835-1875. Miscellaneous writer. Son to preceding.
Author of The Rhymster, etc.
=Hook, Theodore Edward.= 1788-1842. A writer of novels of fashion,
inartistic in form, but full of humor. His power of extempore
verse-making was remarkable. _See Life, by Barham, 1848._ _Pub. Rou._
=Hook, Walter Farquhar.= 1798-1875. Neph. to T. E. H. Author Lives
Abps. Cant., Ecclesiastical Biog., Ch. Dict., etc. _See Life and
Letters._ _Pub. Dut._
=Hooker, Joseph Dalton.= 181 Botanist. Son to W. J. H. Author
Student's Flora British Islands, etc. _Pub. Mac._
=Hooker, Richard.= 1553-1600. Theologian. Author The Laws of
Ecclesiastical Polity. The greatest prose writer of the Elizabethan
age. _See Keble's edition, 3 vols._ _Pub. Mac._
=Hooker, Sir Wm. Jackson.= 1785-1865. Botanist. Author British Ferns,
Garden Ferns, British Flora, etc. _Pub. Put._
=Hope, Alex. James Beresford.= 182 Son to T. H. Author of the
Eng. Cathedral in the 19th Cent., Worship in the Church of England,
etc.
=Hope, Thomas.= 1770-1831. Miscellaneous writer. Author Costumes of
the Ancients, Household Furniture, etc., and the famous Oriental tale
Anastasius. _Pub. Har._
=Horne, George.= 1730-1792. Bp. Norwich. Theologian. Author of a noted
Commentary on the Psalms. _Pub. Ca._
=Horne, Richard Hengist.= 180 Dramatic poet. Author Gregory
VII., Cosmo de Medici, Ballads and Romances, Orion, etc. A writer of
much power, whose circle of readers is undeservedly small. _See
Stedman's Victorian Poets._ _Pub. Rob. Rou._
=Horne, Thos. Hartwell.= 1780-1862. Theologian. Best known by his
Introduction to the Scriptures. _Pub. Ca._
=Horne-Tooke, John.= 1736-1812. Philologist. Author The Diversions of
Purley, etc. _See Memoirs, by Hamilton, 1812, Stephens, 1813, Graham,
1828, N. Y._
=Horner Francis.= 1778-1817. Writer on political economy and one of
the founders of the Edinburgh Rev. _See Memoir and Correspondence,
1843._
=Horsley, Samuel.= 1733-1806. Bp. St. Asaph. Theological and
controversial writer of note. _See Works of, 6 vols., London, 1845._
=Houghton, Lord.= See Milnes, R. M.
=Hoveden de [h[=o]v'den], Roger.= fl. c. 1200. Chronicler. _See Bohn's
Antiquarian Library._
=Howard, Henry, Earl of Surrey.= 1515-1547. His verse is mainly
lyrical, his love songs being his best; nevertheless he first
introduced blank verse into Eng. poetry. _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol.
1._
=Howe, John. 1630-1705.= Theological writer. _See Life, by Rogers,
1836._ _Pub. Dra._
=Howell, James.= 1594-1666. Miscellaneous writer. _See Arber's
reprints of Instructions for Foreign Travel, etc._
=Howitt, Anna Mary.= Dau. to W. H. and M. H. See Watts, Mrs. A. M.
=Howitt, Mrs. Mary Botham.= 179 Wife to W. H. An industrious
author of numerous popular poems, mainly juvenile, of several
excellent prose tales, and of numerous translations from the Swedish,
German, and Danish, the most noted of these being the works of
Fredrika Bremer and Hans Andersen. Her work is characterized by
earnestness and sincerity of purpose. _See the Biograph, Aug. 1880._
_Pub. Alp. Har. Rob. Rou._
=Howitt, Wm.= 1796-1879. Poet and Miscellaneous Writer. A versatile
author whose Rural Life in England, Book of the Seasons, etc., have
been deservedly popular. His wife was co-author with him of many
books. _Pub. Har. Rou._
=Howson, John Saul.= 181 Dean of Chester. Theologian. Author
Life and Epistles of St. Paul [with W. J. Conybeare], Companions of
St. Paul, Metaphors of St. Paul, Miracles of Christ, etc. _Pub. Mac.
Rou._
=Hoyle [hoil], Edward.= 1672-1769. A noted writer upon Games. _Pub.
Lip. Rou._
=Hugesson.= See Knatchbull-Hugesson.
=Hughes, John.= 1677-1720. Poet and essayist. A contributor to The
Spectator.
=Hughes, Thomas.= 182 A popular writer whose School Days at
Rugby, Tom Brown at Oxford, Life of King Alfred, Manliness of Christ,
Scouring of the White Horse, etc., have been widely read. _Pub. Hou.
Mac. Por._
=Hume, David.= 1711-1766. Scottish historian and philosopher. Author
Philosophical Essays, Hist. of England, etc. His style possesses
originality and spirit, but as a historian he is inaccurate. _See Life
and Correspondence of, by T. Hill Burton, Edinburgh, 1847; also Hume,
by T. H. Huxley in Eng. Men of Letters._ _Pub. Har. Lip. Por._
=Hunt, James Henry Leigh.= 1784-1859. Poet and essayist. Francesca da
Rimini and Legend of Florence are his finest poems, but Abou-Ben-Adhem
is the best known. A writer whose happy, genial spirit expresses
itself in his prose and verse. _See Autobiography edited by his son,
1850._ _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 4, and Century Mag. March, 1882._
_Pub. Har. Rob. Rou._
=Hunter, Mrs. Anne.= 1742-1821. Poet. Her lyrics possess much beauty,
and some of them were set to music by Haydn. "My mother bids me bind
my hair" is well known.
=Hurd, Richard.= 1720-1808. Bp. Worcester. Theologian. Author
Dialogues, Sermons, etc. _See edition 1811, 8 vols._
=Hutcheson, Francis.= 1694-1747. Irish metaphysician. Author of a
System of Moral Philosophy, etc. Founder of the Scotch Metaphysical
School.
=Hutchinson, Mrs. Lucy.= 1620-1659. Known to literature by her
admirable Memoirs of her husband first published in 1808.
=Hutton, Richard Holt.= 182 His main work in the London
Spectator. Author Essays, Theological and Literary. _Pub. Har. Mac.
Por._
=Huxley, Thomas Henry.= 182 Naturalist. Author Man's Place in
Nature, Comparative Anatomy, Protoplasm, Lay Sermons, etc. A leader in
modern thought and investigation. _Pub. Apl. Mac._
=Hyde, Edward, Earl of Clarendon.= 1608-1673. Historian. Author Hist.
of the Great Rebellion. His style is defective, but he is fully master
of his subject.
=Inchbald, Mrs. Elizabeth.= 1753-1821. Novelist and dramatist. Her
novels, A Simple Story and Nature and Art were once popular, and some
of her plays are yet acted. The best are Such Things Are, Wives as
They Were and Maids as They Are, and Lovers' Vows. _See Boaden's Life
of, 1833; also Miss Kavanagh's Eng. Women of Letters._ _Pub. Har._
=Ingelow [[)i]n'j[)e]-low], Jean.= 183 Poet and novelist. Her
novels Off the Skelligs, Don John, etc., though popular and
entertaining, are inartistic in construction. Her poetry, though
occasionally obscure, is always graceful and beautiful. Songs of
Seven, The High Tide, and Divided are among the best. _Pub. Rob. Rou._
=Ingleby, Clement Mansfield.= 182 Shakespearean scholar. Author
of Shakespeare--the Man and the Book, View of the Shakespeare
Controversy, etc.
=Inglis, Henry David.= 1795-1835. Scotch writer of travels.
=Ingulphus.= 1030?-1109. A monk to whom was long ascribed the famous
History of the Abbey of Croyland. _See Bohn's Antiquarian Library._
=Ireland, Wm. Henry.= 1777-1835. Shakespearean forger. Author of a
wretched play called Vortigern, which he asserted to be by
Shakespeare. _See Ingleby's Shakespeare, The Man and the Book, Part
2._
=Irons, Wm.= 1812-1883. Theologian. Author of The Whole Doctrine of
Final Causes, Parochial Lect., Sermons for the People, Hymns from the
Hebrew, Athanasius Contoa Mundum, etc. _Pub. Dut._
=Irving, Edward.= 1792-1834. Scotch theologian. Founder of the
Irvingite, or Catholic Apostolic Church. _See Lives by Wilkes and Mrs.
Oliphant; also Carlyle's Reminiscences._
=James I.= King of Scotland. 1394-1437. Poet. The King's Quhair is a
long love poem in 7-line stanzas, and pure and sweet in sentiment.
_See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 1._
=James V.= King of Scotland. 1511-1542. Poet. Supposed author of
Peebles to the Play and Christ's Kirk on the Green: comic and
satirical ballads.
=James VI.= of Scotland, I. of England. 1566-1625. Author of some
feeble poetry, a number of theological treatises and a famous
Counterblast Against Tobacco.
=James, George Payne Rainsford.= 1801-1860. Novelist. Author of an
immense number of novels with a strong likeness to each other.
Beginning by imitating Scott, he ended by copying himself. _Pub. Har.
Rou._
=Jameson, Mrs. Anna.= 1797-1860. An able writer who touched upon many
topics. Characteristics of Women, Sacred and Legendary Art, and Diary
of an Ennuyee, are some of her books. Her dissertations upon
Shakespeare's women are keenly appreciative. _See Memoir of, by
Geraldine Macpherson; also H. Martineau's Biographical Sketches._
_Pub. Apl. Har. Hou. Por. Rou._
=Jeaffreson, John Cordy.= 183 Novelist and biographer. Author
Live It Down, The Real Lord Byron, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Jeffrey, Lord Francis.= 1773-1850. Scotch critic and essayist. One of
the founders of the Edinburgh Review. A writer of great merit, but one
whose judgment was often warped by prejudice. _See Life by Lord
Cockburn, 1852._
=Jenkins, Edward.= 183 Political satirist. Author Ginx's Baby,
Lord Bantam, Haverholme, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Jenyns, Soame.= 1704-1787. Moralist. _See complete works of, London,
1790._
=Jephson, Robert.= 1736-1803. Dramatist. The Court of Narbonne and
Duke of Braganza were successful tragedies in their day.
=Jerdan, Wm.= 1782-1869. Journalist. _See Autobiography, 1853._
=Jerrold, Douglas Wm.= 1803-1857. Dramatist and humorist. Black-Eyed
Susan and Rent Day are his best dramas. Of his other works, A Man Made
of Money, Chronicles of Clovernook, and The Caudle Lectures are most
noted. _See Life by his son._ _Pub. Har. Hou. Rou._
=Jerrold, Wm. Blanchard.= 182 Miscellaneous writer. Son to D. W.
J. Author Imperial Paris, Napoleon III., etc.
=Jevons, Wm. Stanley.= 1835-1882. Political economist. Author The
State in Relation to Labor, Methods of Social Reform and other Essays,
Investigations in Currency and Finance, etc. _Pub. Apl. Mac._
=Jewsbury, Geraldine Endsor.= 1821-1880. Novelist and journalist.
Author of Zoe, Half Sisters, Constance Herbert, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Jewsbury, Maria Jane.= Sister to G. E. J. See Fletcher, Mrs.
=Johnson, Samuel.= 1705-1773. Dramatist. Author Hurlothrumbo, etc.
=Johnson, Samuel.= 1709-1784. Lexicographer and miscellaneous writer.
Author of London, a poetical satire, Rasselas, a didactic novel, Lives
of the Poets, Dict. of the Eng. Lang., and numerous other works. His
style is heavy and ponderous, but dignified, sonorous, and peculiarly
his own. He was the greatest literary figure in England between 1745
and 1784. _See Boswell's Life of, edited by J. W. Croker; also Johnson
by Leslie Stephen in Eng. Men of Letters._ _Pub. Har. Le. Lit. Mac._
=Johnston, Arthur.= 1587-1641. Scotch poet. Noted for a fine Latin
translation of the Psalms.
=Johnstone, Charles.= ---- 1800. Novelist. His Adventures of a Guinea
was once popular. _See W. Scott's Lives of Eminent Novelists._
=Jones, Sir Wm.= 1746-1794. Poet, Orientalist, and translator. _See
edition of 1807 with Life._
=Jonson, Ben.= 1574-1637. Dramatist. A robust, dignified writer, more
popular in his day than Shakespeare. Volpone, Silent Woman, Alchemist,
Every Man in his Humor, and Every Man out of his Humor are his best
comedies: Catiline and Sejanus his only tragedies. His pastoral drama,
The Sad Shepherd, is graceful and sweet. _See Cunningham's edition of
Johnson, 1870, and Schlegel's Dramatic Literature._ _Pub. Apl. Rou._
=Jortin, John.= 1698-1770. Ecclesiastical historian.
=Jowett, Benjamin.= 181 Greek scholar. Translator of Plato and
Thucydides. _Pub Scr._
=Junius.= See Francis, Sir Philip.
=Kames, Lord.= See Home, Henry.
=Kavanagh [kav'a-nae' or kav'a-nah'], Julia.= 1824-1877. Irish
novelist. Author Nathalie, Eng. Women of Letters, Beatrice, etc. _Pub.
Apl. Ho._
=Kaye, Sir John Wm.= 1814-1876. Military historian. Author Hist. War
in Afghanistan [1851], Hist. Sepoy War, Lives of Indian Officers,
Essays of an Optimist, etc. _Pub. Lip. Rou._
=Keary, Annie.= 1825-1879. Novelist. Author Castle Daly, A Doubting
Heart, Heroes of Asgard, Clemency Franklyn, etc. _See Memoir of, by
her Sister; also Catholic World, July, 1879._ _Pub. Har. Mac. Por._
=Keats, John.= 1795-1821. Poet. A great master of the music of verse.
The Ode on a Grecian Urn and Ode to a Nightingale are nearly perfect
poems. The Eve of St. Agnes, Isabella, Hyperion and Endymion are
longer poems, full of sensuous richness of expression and intensity of
feeling. _See Rossetti's edition of._ _See Life of, by Lord Houghton._
=Keble [k[)e]b'l], John.= 1792-1866. Religious poet. Author Christian
Year, Lyra Innocentium, etc. Versification musical and refined. _See
Shairp's Studies in Poetry and Philosophy, C. Yonge's Musings over the
Christian Year, Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 4, and Memoir by J. T.
Coleridge._ _Pub. Dut._
=Keddie, Henrietta=, "Sarah Tytler." 182 Novelist. Author
Citoyenne Jacqueline, What She Came Through, and several valuable
literary and artistic handbooks. _Pub. Har. Rob. Rou._
=Keightley [k[=i]t'l[)i]], Thomas.= 1789-1872. Historian. Author Hist.
England to 1839, Outlines of Hist., Mythology of Ancient Greece, etc.
_Pub. Apl. Har. Lip._
=Kemble, Adelaide.= See Sartoris, Mrs.
=Kemble, Frances Anne.= 181 Poet and miscellaneous writer. _See
Allibone's Dict._ _Pub. Har. Ho._
=Kemble, John Mitchell.= 1807-1857. Anglo-Saxon scholar. Bro to A. K.
and F. A. K. Author of The Saxons in England, etc. A writer of
authority in his department.
=Ken, Thomas.= 1637-1711. Bp. Bath and Wells. Poet. His Morning and
Evening Hymns introduced a simpler, sincerer style of religious
poetry. _See Life, by Duyckinck._
=Kenney, Charles Lamb.= 1823-1881. Dramatist. Author lives of Balzac
and Balfe, etc. _Pub. Rou._
=Kenney, James.= 1780-1849. Dramatist. Author Raising the Wind, etc.
=King, Henry.= 1591-1669. Bp. Chichester. Religious poet.
=Kinglake, Alex. Wm.= 180 Historian. A brilliant and powerful
writer. Author Hist. Crimean War, Eothen, etc. _Pub. Arm. Har._
=Kingsley, Charles.= 1819-1875. Novelist and poet. Author of
Andromeda, the finest Eng. hexameter poem, and the stories, Alton
Locke, Yeast, Westward Ho, Hypatia, At Last, etc. Style forcible but
uneven. _See Life by Mrs. Kingsley, 1876._ _Pub. Apl. Har. Mac. Lip.
Scr._
=Kingsley, Henry.= 1830-1876. Novelist. Bro. to C. K. Author
Ravenshoe, Silcote of Silcotes, Austin Elliott, Hetty, etc. _Pub. Do.
Har. Mac. Rou._
=Kingston, Wm. H. G.= 1843-1880. Author of spirited tales of adventure
for young readers. _Pub. Arm. Cas. Lip. Rou._
=Kitchener, Wm.= 1775-1827. Physician. Author of the Cook's Oracle,
etc. _Pub. Har._
=Kitto, John.= 1804-1854. Author of the Pictorial Bible, Cyc. of
Biblical Lit., etc. _Pub. Ca. Phi._
=Knatchbull-Hugesson, Edward.= 182 Writer for children. Author
Crackers for Christmas and several vols. of fairy tales. _Pub. Apl.
Har. Rou._
=Knight, Charles.= 1791-1873. Shakespearean scholar and miscellaneous
writer. Author of a Pictorial Hist. England, etc. Editor of a
Pictorial Shakespeare, etc. _See Passages from the Life of (pub.
Put.)._ _Pub. Fu. Lip. Por._
=Knight, Richard Payne.= 1750-1824. Poet and antiquary. His verse is
worthless, but his archaeological works are much esteemed. _See
edition, 1874, N. Y._
=Knolles [n[=o]lz], Richard.= 1540-1610. Historian. His Hist. of the
Turks was much praised by Dr. Johnson and Hallam.
=Knowles, Herbert.= 1798-1817. Religious poet.
=Knowles, James Sheridan.= 1794-1862. Irish dramatist. His best
tragedies are Caius Gracchus, Virginius, and Wm. Tell. The Hunchback
is his finest comedy. While his works will not bear severe criticism,
they are popular and among the best acting of modern plays. _See
edition, 1873._
=Knowles, Richard Brinsley.= 1819?-1882. Son to J. S. K. Journalist
and historical writer. Was author of the comedy The Maiden Aunt.
=Knox, Mrs. Craig.= See Craig-Knox.
=Knox, John.= 1505-1572. Scotch theologian. Author Hist. Reformation
in Scotland, and First Blast Against the Monstrous Regiment of Women.
_See Lives by Smeaton, 1572; McCrie, 1812; Niemeyer, 1824; Laing,
1847, and Brandes, 1863._ _See Fraser's Mag. April, 1875; also
Lorimer's John Knox and the Church of England._
=Knox, Vicesimus.= 1752-1821. Essayist. Author Winter Evenings, Family
Lect., etc.
=Knox, Wm.= 1789-1825. Scotch poet. Best remembered for his poem "O
why should the spirit of mortal be proud!" _Pub. Le._
=Kyd, Thomas.= fl. c. 1590. Dramatist. Author Hieronimo, The Spanish
Tragedy, etc. _See Lamb's Dramatic Poets._
=Kynaston, Francis.= 1587-1642. Poet.
=Laffan, May.= 18-- ----. Novelist. Author Hogan, M. P., Flitters,
Tatters and the Counsellor, Christy Carew, and The Honorable Miss
Ferrard. _Pub. Ho. Mac._
=Lang, David.= 1793-1878. Librarian and bibliographer. A literary
student of great diligence, and editor and author of some two hundred
and fifty works.
=Laing, Malcolm.= 1762-1818. Scotch historian. Author Hist. of
Scotland, etc. Style independent and truthful.
=Laing, Samuel.= 1780-1868. Traveler. Author Norway, Tour in Sweden,
etc., and translator of the Heimskringla, or Chronicle of the Kings of
Norway.
=Lamb, Caroline, Lady.= 1785-1828. Novelist. Author Glenarvon, Graham
Hamilton, etc.
=Lamb, Charles.= 1775-1834. Essayist. A humorist who is unsurpassed
for gentleness and purity of style. Essays of Elia, Rosamond Gray, a
tale, John Woodvil, a drama; and Specimens of Old Eng. Dramatists are
his chief works. Among the Essays Dream-Children is the most nearly
perfect. _See Lives by Talfourd, Fitzgerald, and Procter._ _See
Centenary edition of, 1875._ _Pub. Arm. Clx. Har. Lip. Rou._
=Lamb, Mary Anne.= 1765-1847. Sister to C. L. and co-author with him
of Tales from Shakespeare, Poetry for Children, etc. _See W. Carew
Hazlitt's edition of Poems, Letters, etc. of Chas. and Mary_ _Lamb,
1874; and Mary Lamb, by Anne Gilchrist, in Famous Women._
=Landon, Letitia Elizabeth= [Mrs. Maclean], 1802-1838. Poet and
novelist. Her verse is melodious and delicate, but is lacking in
force. _See Poems of, edited by W. B. Scott, 1873._ _See Life by L.
Blanchard, 1841, and Living Age, Jan. 6, 1883._ _Pub. Apl._
=Landor, Walter Savage.= 1775-1864. Poet and prose writer. Author
Gebir, Heroic Idyls, Hellenics, etc., and of numerous prose works, of
which the Imaginary Conversations is the chief. A strong, original
writer, self asserting and unrestrained. _See Forster's Life of,
Stedman's Victorian Poets, Atlantic Monthly, April, May, and June,
1864, and Feb. 1883, H. Martineau's Biographical Sketches, and Landor,
by Colvin, in Eng. Men of Letters._ _Pub. Lip. Rob._
=Lane, Edward Wm.= 1801-1876. Orientalist. Author Modern Egyptians,
Arabic Lexicon, etc., and translator of the Arabian Nights. _Pub.
Lit._
=Lang, Andrew.= 184 Poet. Author Ballads in Blue China, Helen of
Troy, etc. _See Harper's Mag. May, 1882, "Some London Poets."_ _Pub.
Mac._
=Langhorne, John.= 1735-1779. Poet and translator of Plutarch.
=Langland, Wm.= c. 1322-c. 1400. Poet. Author Vision of Piers Plowman,
an allegorical, satirical poem, aimed at the corruptions of the
church. _See edition by Wright, 1856; also Skeat's edition._ _See
Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 1._ _Pub. Mac._
=Lardner, Dionysius.= 1793-1859. Scientific writer.
=Lardner, Nathaniel.= 1684-1768. Theological writer. _See Collected
Works, with Memoir by Kippis, 1788._
=Latham, Rob't Gordon.= 181 Ethnologist. Author Man and His
Migrations, etc.
=Latimer, Hugh.= c. 1491-1555. Bp. Worcester. Theologian. His Sermons
are rude but forcible and strongly idiomatic discourses. _See Corrie's
edition. London, 4 vols. 8vo, 1845._ _See Life, by Demaus, 1869; and
Tulloch's Leaders of the Reformation._
=Law, Wm.= 1686-1761. Theologian. Author Serious Call to a Higher
Life, etc. _See Life, by Tighe, 1813._
=Lawrence, Geo. Alfred.= 1827-1876. Novelist. Author Guy Livingstone,
Sword and Gown, Sans Merci, Anteros, Maurice Dering, etc. _Pub. Har.
Lip._
=Layamon.= fl. c. 1200. Author The Brut, or Chronicle of Britain, a
famous semi-Saxon poem. Style earnest and simple. _See F. Madden's
edition, 1847._
=Layard [l[=a]-ard], Austen Henry.= 181 Archaeologist. Author
Nineveh and its Remains, Monuments of Nineveh, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Lear, Edward.= 18-- ----. Author Journal of a Landscape Painter,
Nonsense Book, etc. _Pub. Rob._
=Lecky, Wm. Edw. Hartpole.= 183 Irish historian. Author Hist.
Rationalism, Hist. European Morals, Hist. England in the 18th Cent.
etc. A careful, dignified writer who treats of history philosophically.
_Pub. Apl._
=Lee, Frederick George.= 183 Theologian and poet. Author of
Historical Sketches of the Reformation, Lyrics of Life and Light, etc.
_See The Biograph, Aug. 1880._ _Pub. Dut._
=Lee, Harriet.= 1766-1851. Author [with Sophia L.] of the Canterbury
Tales, a series of tales of much power. Byron's Werner is a version of
one of them.
=Lee, Holme.= See Parr, Harriet.
=Lee, Nathaniel.= 1655-1692. Dramatist. Alexander the Great is one of
his tragedies.
=Lee, Sophia.= 1750-1824. Novelist. Sister to H. L. Author of two of
the Canterbury Tales, of several novels, and of the comedy The Chapter
of Accidents.
=Lee, Wm.= 1815-1883. Irish theologian and ecclesiologist. His chief
work is the Donnellan Lect. on the Inspiration of Scripture. A
profound biblical scholar. _Pub. Ca._
=LeFanu, J. Sheridan.= ---- 1874. Novelist. Author All in the Dark,
Tenants of Malory, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Leighton [l[=a]-ton], Rob't.= 1613-1684. Abp. Glasgow. Theologian.
His style is still much admired. _See Pearson's edition, London, 1828,
N. Y. 1859._ _Pub. Ca._
=L. E. L.= See Landon.
=Leland, John.= 1506-1552. Antiquarian. Author The Itinerary, etc.
=Lemon, Mark.= 1809-1870. Journalist, novelist, and dramatist. The
Serious Family is his best known farce. Author Jest Book, etc. _Pub.
Mac._
=Lempriere [l[)e]m'pr[)i]-er, or lem-preer'], John.= 1765-1824.
Scholar of note. Author of a Classical Dict., and a Universal
Biography. _Pub. Lip. Put. Rou._
=Lennox, Mrs. Charlotte.= 1720-1804. Novelist. Author Harriet Stuart
and The Female Quixote.
=Lesley, John.= 1527-1596. Bp. Ross. Scotch historian. _See Thomson's
Edition, 1830._
=Leslie, Chas.= 1650-1722. Irish theologian. Leslie wrote A Short and
Easy Method with the Deists, a controversial work once noted.
=Leslie, Chas. Rob't.= 1794-1859. Artist. Author Handbook for Young
Painters, Memoirs Sir John Constable, Life and Times Sir Joshua
Reynolds, etc. _See Autobiographical Recollection of, edited by Tom
Taylor, 1860._
=L'Estrange [l[)e]s-tr[=a]nj], Sir Roger.= 1616-1704. Political writer
and translator.
=Lever [l[=e]'ver], Chas. James.= 1806-1872. Irish novelist. Author
Harry Lorrequer, Charles O'Malley, etc., rollicking tales not greatly
approved by the present taste. His later novels, like That Boy at
Norcott's, etc., are soberer in tone. _Pub. Har._
=Lewes [l[=u]-is], Geo. Henry.= 1817-1878. Philosopher and critic.
Author Problems of Life and Mind, Life of Goethe, Hist. of Philosophy,
etc. _Pub. Apl. Ho. Hou._
=Lewes, Mrs. G. H.= See Evans, Marian.
=Lewis, Sir Geo. Cornwall.= 1806-1863. Political and historical
writer. _See Letters of, 1870._
=Lewis, Matthew Gregory.= 1775-1818. Novelist. Famous as the author of
The Monk, a fantastic, demoniac tale. _See Life and Correspondence,
1839._
=Leyden [li'den], John.= 1775-1811. Scotch poet and Orientalist. _See
edition of his poems, 1858._
=Liddell [l[)i]d'del], Mrs. Catharine Christina Fraser-Tytler.=
184 Poet and novelist. Author Mistress Judith, Jonathan, Songs
in Minor Keys, etc. _Pub. Ho. Mac._
=Liddell, Mrs. Edward.= See Liddell, Mrs. C.
=Liddell, Henry George.= 181 Classical scholar. Author of a
Hist. of Rome, and co-author with Scott of the noted Greek lexicon
known as Liddell-and-Scott's. _Pub. Har._
=Liddon, Henry, Parry.= 183 Theologian. Author Bampton Lect.
1867, University Sermons, Sermons to the People, etc. A leader of
High Church thought. _Pub. Dut._
=Lightfoot, Joseph Barber.= 182 Bp. Durham. Biblical
commentator. _Pub. Mac._
=Lillo, George.= 1693-1739. Dramatist. Author George Barnwell, Fatal
Curiosity, and Arden of Feversham. A master of dramatic situations.
=Lindsay, Sir David.= 1490-1557. Scotch poet. _See Chalmers' edition
with Life, 1806._ _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 1._
=Lingard, John.= 1771-1859. Historian. Author Hist. England,
Antiquities of the Anglo-Saxon Ch., etc. His history has a high rank
and is valued as a fair statement of facts from a Roman Catholic
standpoint. _Pub. Est._
=Linton, Mrs. Eliza Lynn.= 182 Novelist. Wife to W. J. L. Author
Lizzie Lorton, Sowing the Wind, etc. _Pub. Har. Lip. Rou._
=Linton, Wm. James.= 181 Poet and Engraver. Author Claribel,
Hist. Wood Engraving, Life Thos. Paine, etc. _See Stedman's Victorian
Poets._ _Pub. Est. Le._
=Livingstone, David.= 1817-1873. African explorer. Author Expedition
to the Zambesi, Last Journals, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Lloyd, Chas.= ---- 1839. Poet. Co-author with Chas. Lamb.
=Lloyd, Robert.= 1733-1764. Poet. _See Collected Works with Life, by
Kenrick, 1774._
=Locke, John.= 1632-1704. Philosopher. Author of the famous Essay on
the Understanding, a work of great penetration and power. _See Life by
Fox-Bourne, and Locke, by T. Fowler in Eng. Men of Letters._ _Pub.
Apl._
=Locker, Frederick.= 182 Poet. Author London Lyrics, etc. Style
airy and graceful. _See Century Mag. Feb. 1883._
=Lockhart, John Gibson.= 1794-1854. Scotch critic and biographer. A
writer of much talent and for 27 years editor of the Quarterly Rev.:
author Lives of Nelson, Scott, Burns, Napoleon, etc. _See H.
Martineau's Biographical Sketches._ _Pub. Har. Ho. Hou._
=Lockyer, Joseph Norman.= 183 Astronomer. Author Contributions
to Solar Physics, etc. _Pub. Apl. Mac._
=Lodge, Edmund.= 1756-1839. Historian. Author Illustrations of British
Hist., Portraits of Illustrious Persons of Gt. Britain, etc.
=Lodge, Thomas.= c. 1555-1625. Dramatist and Poet. To his novel
Roslynde; Euphues Golden Legacy, Shakespeare owes the plot and
incidents of As You Like It. _See As You Like It, Rolfe's edition, and
Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. I._
=Logan, John.= 1748-1788. Scotch poet. His verse is fresh and simple,
and his Song to the Cuckoo has great beauty. _See edition 1805, with
Life._
=Long, George.= 1800-1879. Classical scholar. Author Roman Law,
Decline and Fall of the Roman Republic, etc.
=Loudon, Mrs. Jane.= 1800-1858. Wife to J. C. L. Author of The Mummy,
a tale, and several horticultural works. _Pub. Rou. Wil._
=Loudon, John Claudius.= 1783-1843. Scotch horticulturist. His
Arboretum Britannicum is his chief work.
=Lovelace, Sir Richard.= 1618-1658. Poet. His verse is principally
amatory, and some of his songs are perfect of their kind. To Althea
and To Lucasta are the most famous. _See Carew Hazlitt's edition of
1864, and Ward's English Poets, vol. 2._
=Lover, Samuel.= 1797-1868. Irish dramatist, novelist, and poet. Rory
O'More and Handy Andy are his best known novels. His most famous song
is Rory O'More. _See Life by Bayle Bernard, 1874, and Samuel Lover, by
A. J. Symington._ _Pub. Por. Rou._
=Lower, Mark Antony.= 1813-1876. Author Eng. Surnames, Curiosities of
Heraldry, Patronymica Britannica, etc.
=Lowndes, Wm. Thos.= ---- 1843. Bibliographer. Author British
Librarian and The Bibliographer's Manual.
=Lowth [louth], Rob't.= 1710-1787. Bp. London. Son to W. L. A
classical and theological writer of great learning. _See Life, by
Peter Hall, 1834._
=Lowth, Wm.= 1661-1732. Theologian of note.
=Lubbock, Sir John.= 183 Naturalist. Author Origin of
Civilization, Pre-Historic Times, British Wild Flowers, etc. _Pub.
Apl. Mac._
=Lydgate, John.= 1370-1450. Poet. An exceedingly diffuse rhymer. _See
minor works of pub. by the Percy Soc. 1842, and Ward's Eng. Poets,
vol. I._
=Lyell, Sir Chas.= 1797-1875. Geologist. Author Elements of Geology,
Travels in N. America, Antiquity of Man, etc. _Pub. Apl. Har. Lip._
=Lyly or Lily, John.= 1553-1598. Dramatic poet. His dramas are
forgotten, but his prose romance, Euphues and his England, is
remembered for the great influence it had upon the speech of the time.
L. was a reformer, though pedantic and fantastic. Euphuism has been
ridiculed by Sydney, Jonson, Shakespeare, and Walter Scott. _See
Collins's Hist. Dramatic Poetry, Lamb's Specimens Early Eng. Poets,
and Chas. Kingsley's Westward Ho._
=Lyndsay.= See Lindsay, David.
=Lyte, Henry Francis.= 1793-1847. Poet. His hymn, Abide with Me, is
widely known. _Pub. Le. Ran._
=Lyttleton, George, Lord.= 1709-1773. Author Dialogues of the Dead,
Hist. Henry II., etc. _See Life, by Phillimore, 1845._
=Lytton.= See Bulwer-Lytton.
=Macaulay, Mrs. Catherine.= 1733-1791. Historian. Author Hist. of
England during the Stuart dynasty, etc.
=Macaulay, Thos. Babington, Lord.= 1800-1859. Poet, essayist, and
historian. A brilliant but partisan writer. The impetuous rush and
vigor of his Lays of Ancient Rome obscure their poetical defects. His
essays are numerous and cover a wide range. His Hist. of England is a
superb piece of writing but it lacks the calm impartiality that a
history should possess. _See Lines by Milman, F. Arnold and G. O.
Trevelyan; Macaulay, by J. C. Morrison in Eng. Men of Letters; and H.
Martineau's Biographical Sketches._ _Pub. Apl. Arm. Clx. Har. Hou.
Lip. Lit. Por. Rou._
=MacDonald, George.= 182 Scotch novelist and poet. His work is
all of an earnest, religious cast, but marred sometimes by mannerisms
and vagueness of touch. Robert Falconer, Alec Forbes, and St. George
and St. Michael are the best of his numerous novels. Phantastes
contains some of his best poetry. _See Lit. World, May 19, 1883._
_Pub. Apl. Do. Har. Lip. Mac. Rob. Rou. Scr._
=Mackarness, Mrs. Henry.= 1826-1881. Author of the tale A Trap to
Catch a Sunbeam, etc. _Pub. Rou._
=Mackay, Chas.= 181 Scotch poet and miscellaneous writer. Author
Town Lyrics, etc. _See Poems of, edition 1876._ _Pub. Rou._
=Mackay, Wm.= 1803-1882. Philosopher. Author Progress of the
Intellect, Eternal Gospel, etc.
=Mackenzie, Sir George.= 1636-1691. Scotch miscellaneous writer. A
voluminous author of much eminence in his day.
=Mackenzie, Henry.= Scotch novelist and essayist. Author the famous
novel, The Man of Feeling, etc. _See collected works, 1808._ _Pub.
Har._
=Mackintosh, Sir James.= 1765-1832. Ethical and historical writer.
_See Memoirs by his son._ _Pub. Har._
=Macklin, Chas.= 1690-1797. Irish dramatist. Author of the bright
comedy, The Man of the World. M. appeared on the stage as an actor
till nearly 100. _See Memoirs of, 1804._
=Macleod [m[)a]k-lowd'], Norman.= 1812-1872. Scotch miscellaneous
writer. Author of The Starling, Reminiscences of a Highland Parish,
etc. _See Life by his brother, and Memoir by Alex. Strahan._ _Pub. Do.
Lip. Rou._
=Macneil, Hector.= 1746-1818. Scotch poet. Author Will and Jean, etc.
=Macpherson, James.= 1738-1796. Scotch poet. Supposed author of a
series of poems purporting to be by Ossian, an ancient Gaelic bard.
These forgeries were immensely popular in spite of their wild and
over-strained diction. M. never revealed the secret of their
authorship. _See H. Morley's Shorter Eng. Poems._
=Macquoid, Mrs. Katherine S.= 18-- ----. Novelist. Author Patty, Beside
the River, Too Soon, etc., and several vols. of travel, Through
Normandy, Through Brittany, etc. _Pub. Apl. Har. Lip. Mac. Ran. Rou._
=Madden, Richard Robert.= 179 Poet and miscellaneous writer.
Author The Infirmities of Genius, etc.
=Magee, Wm.= 1765-1831. Abp. Dublin. Theologian. His best known work
is the Discourses on the Atonement. _See complete works, 1842._
=Magee, Wm. Connor.= 182 Bp. Peterborough. Grandson to Wm. M.
Religious writer. Author Sermons, Lectures, etc. Style eloquent and
forcible.
=Maginn, Wm.= 1793-1842. Irish humorist. Style learned, witty, and
brilliant. _See Works, edited by R. S. Mackenzie, 5 vols., N. Y.
1857._ _Pub. Wid._
=Mahaffey, John Peytland.= 183 Author Hist. Classical Greek
Lit., Old Greek Life, Rambles and Studies in Greece, Greek Social
Life, Old Greek Education, etc. _Pub. Apl. Har. Mac._
=Mahoney, Francis=, "Father Prout." 1805-1866. Irish poet and
journalist. M. wrote the noted poem, The Bells of Shandon.
=Maine, Sir Henry James Sumner.= 182 Jurist. Author Roman Law,
Ancient Law, Village Communities, Early Hist. of Institutions, etc.
_Pub. Ho._
=Maitland, Edward.= 18-- ----. Novelist. Author The Higher Law, The
Pilgrim and the Shrine, and By-and-By. _Pub. Put._
=Maitland, Sir Richard.= 1496-1586. Scotch poet.
=Malcolm, Sir John.= 1769-1833. Diplomatist. Author Hist. of Persia,
Political Hist. India, Life of Lord Clive, etc. _See Kaye's Life of,
London, 1856._
=Mallet, David.= 1700-1765. Scotch poet. Author Ballads, etc.
=Mallock, Wm. Hurrel.= 184 Novelist. Author Is Life Worth
Living, The New Republic, Positivism on an Island, Romance of the 19th
Cent., etc. A writer of much force and originality.
=Malmesbury, Wm. of.= 1095?-1143. Anglo-Norman historian.
=Malone, Edmund.= 1741-1812. Shakespearean scholar. Editor of the
edition of 1790. _See Life, by Prior, 1860._
=Malory, Sir Thomas.= 1430?-1496. Author or translator of the famous
romance, The Morte d'Arthur. _Pub. Mac._
=Malthus, Thos. Robt.= 1766-1834. Political economist. Author of a
celebrated Essay on the Principle of Population. _See Life, by Otter,
1836._
=Mandeville, Bernard.= 1670-1733. Philosopher. Author of the noted
Fable of the Bees, or Private Vices Public Benefits, etc. _See Craik's
Eng. Lit. vol. 2._
=Mandeville, Sir John.= 1300-1372. "The first writer in formed
English." He traveled extensively and wrote an entertaining account of
his travels.
=Manley, Mrs. Mary de la Riviere.= 1672-1724. Novelist and dramatist.
She wrote the noted political satire, The New Atlantis.
=Manners, John Lord.= 181 Poet. Author England's Trust, English
Ballads, etc.
=Manning, Anne.= 180 Novelist. Author Mary Powell, Household of
Sir Thos. More, Passages in the Life of the Faire Gospeller, etc.
_Pub. Do._
=Manning, Henry Edw., Cardinal.= 180 Theologian. Author Temporal
Power of the Pope, Parochial Sermons, The Vatican Decrees, etc. _See
Century Mag. May, 1883._ _Pub. Apl. Sad._
=Mannyng, Robert.= fl. c. 1340. Rhyming chronicler.
=Mansel, Henry Longueville.= 1820-1871. Philosopher. Author The Limits
of Religious Thought, Philosophy of Consciousness, Bampton Lect.,
1858, etc. _Pub. Apl. Mac._
=Mant, Richard.= 1776-1848. Bp. Killaloe. Religious writer. Author
Poems, Hist. Ch. of Ireland, etc.
=Mantell, Gideon Algernon.= 1790-1852. Geological writer of note.
Author Thoughts on a Pebble, Medals of Creation, etc.
=Map=, or =Mapes, Walter=. 1150-1196. Anglo-Norman poet and romancer.
=Marlowe, Christopher.= 1564-1593. Dramatist and poet. The greatest
dramatist before Shakespeare. His Tamburlaine was the first blank
verse play acted. Faustus, Jew of Malta, and Edward II. are powerful
dramas. The influence of Marlowe is traceable in several of
Shakespeare's plays. _See editions by Cunningham and Dyce._ _See
Schlegel's Dramatic Lit._ _Pub. Mac. Rou._
=Marryatt, Frederick.= 1792-1849. Marine novelist. Peter Simple, Jacob
Faithful, and Midshipman Easy are among the best of his novels. They
are lively, inartistic tales, full of broad fun and drollery. _See
Life, by his daughter Florence, 1872._ _Pub. Apl. Har. Lip. Rob._
=Marryatt, Florence.= See Ross-Church, Mrs.
=Marsh, Mrs. Anne Caldwell.= ---- 1874. Novelist. Author Ravenscliffe,
Emilia Wyndham, Lettice Arnold, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Marsh, Herbert.= 1757-1839. Bp. Peterborough. A profound writer on
politics and divinity. Author of a noted Hist. of the Politics of Gt.
Britain and France.
=Marston, John.= 1575-1634. Dramatist and satirist. _See Halliwell's
edition, 3 vols., London, 1856._
=Marston, Philip Bourke.= 185 Poet. Son to W. M. Author
Song-Tide, All in All, etc., and of numerous sketches and tales. His
verse is strongly subjective in tone. _See Stedman's Victorian Poets._
=Marston, Westland.= 182 Dramatist and poet. The Patrician's
Daughter is one of his best plays.
=Martin, Theodore.= 181 Translator and biographer. Author of
Life of the Prince Consort, etc., and with W. E. Aytoun of the Bon
Gualtier Ballads. _See The Biograph, Jan. 1879._ _Pub. Apl. Por._
=Martineau, Harriet.= 1802-1876. Miscellaneous writer. Her
illustrations of political economy are in the form of fiction.
Deerbrook and The Hour and the Man are her most noted romances. Style
strong, clear, and original. _See Autobiography, 1876._ _Pub. Har. Ho.
Mac. Por. Rob. Rou._
=Martineau, James.= 180 Theologian. Bro. to H. M. A leader of
Unitarian thought. Author Studies of Christianity, Hymns of Praise and
Prayer, Religious and Modern Materialism, Endeavors after a Christian
Life, etc. _Pub. Ho. Put. Rob. A. U. A._
=Marvell, Andrew.= 1620-1678. Poet and controversialist. As the former
he ranks among the first of the minor poets of his time. His fancy is
delicate and quaint. _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 2._ _Pub. Har._
=Marzials, Theophile.= 185 Poet and musician. Author of The
Gallery of Pigeons, etc. Of his songs Twickenham Ferry is one of the
best known. _See The Biograph, March, 1880._
=Mason, Wm.= 1725-1797. Poet. His verse is wordy and feeble.
=Massey, Gerald.= 182 Poet. Author Babe Christabel, Craigcrook
Castle, etc. His verse has more sweetness than strength. _See
Stedman's Victorian Poets._
=Massinger [m[)a]s's[)i]n-j[)e]r], Philip.= 1584-1640. A writer of
much power whose style is clear and flexible. The Virgin Martyr, Fatal
Dowry, City Madam, and A New Way to Pay Old Debts, are his finest
plays. The latter is often acted. _See Works of, edited by Gifford, 4.
vols._
=Masson, David.= 182 Scotch biographer and critic. Author
British Novelists, Biographical and Critical Essays, Recent British
Philosophy, etc. His chief work is a Life of Milton, a book of great
merit and ability. _See The Biograph, vol. 3._ _Pub. Mac. Apl._
=Mathers, Helen.= See Reeves, Mrs.
=Mathias, Thos. James.= 1776-1835. Supposed author of the poem The
Pursuits of Literature.
=Maturin [m[)a]t-yoo'r[)i]n], Chas. Robert.= 1782-1824. Irish
novelist. Author Melmoth, an extravagant romance, and the tragedy of
Bertram.
=Maurice [maw'r[)i]ss], John Frederic Denison.= 1805-1872. Theologian
and ethical writer. A prominent Broad Church clergyman, writing much
and well upon theology, philosophy, and other subjects. A Hist. Moral
and Metaphysical Philosophy is his chief work. Others are Theological
Essays, The Bible and Science, and the Friendship of Books. _Pub. Le.
Mac._
=Maxwell, James Clerk.= 183 Scientific writer of note. _Pub.
Apl. Mac._
=Maxwell, Mrs. Mary E. [Braddon].= 183 Novelist. A writer of
sensational tales, among which Aurora Floyd is the most famous. Her
latest novels show a greatly improved style. _Pub. Har._
=Maxwell, Wm. Hamilton.= 1794-1850. Irish novelist. His fiction is
military in character. _Pub. Rou._
=Maxwell, Sir Wm. Stirling.= 1818-1878. Author The Cloister Life of
Chas. V., Velasquez and his Works, etc.
=May, Sir Thos. Erskine.= 181 Historian. Author Constitutional
Hist. England, Hist. Democracy in Europe, etc. Style careful and
thoughtful. _See Lit. World, April, 1878, and The Biograph, March,
1880._ _Pub. Arm. Wid._
=Mayhew, Augustus.= 1812-1875. Litterateur.
=Mayhew, Edward.= 181 Veterinary writer. Bro. to A. M. Author
Illustrated Horse Doctor, etc. _Pub. Apl. Lip. Rou._
=Mayhew, Henry.= 1812-1876. Bro. to two preceding. Author London Labor
and London Poor, German Life and Manners and numerous humorous works.
_Pub. Har. Rou._
=Mayhew, Horace.= 1819-1872. Humorist. Bro. to three preceding. Author
Letters Left at the Pastry Cook's, etc.
=Mayhew, Thomas.= 181 Bro. to four preceding. Editor of the
Penny National Library.
=Mayne, John.= 1761-1836. Scotch poet. Author of The Siller Gun, Logan
Braes, etc.
=Mayo, Mrs. Isabella Fyvie=, "Edward Garrett." 184 Religious
novelist. Author By Still Waters, Occupations of a Retired Life, Gold
and Dross, etc. _Pub. Do._
=McCarthy, Denis Florence.= 1820-1880. Poet and miscellaneous writer.
Author Ballads, Poems, and other Lyrics, etc., and translator of the
dramas of Calderon.
=McCarthy, Justin.= 183 Novelist and historian. Author Linley
Rochford, Dear Lady Disdain, etc., and of a valuable Hist. of Our Own
Times. Style graphic and forcible. _Pub. Har._
=McCulloch, John Ramsay.= 1789-1864. Political economist. Author
Principles of Political Economy, Dict. of Commerce, Statistical
Account of the British Empire, etc.
=Melmoth, Wm.= 1710-1799. Translator of Pliny. Author Laelius, or
Friendship, etc.
=Melville, Sir James.= 1535-1606. Scotch writer. Author Historical
Memoirs.
=Melville, J. G. Whyte.= 1821-1878. Novelist. Author Kate Coventry,
The White Rose, Katerfelto, etc. Style rapid and spirited. _Pub. Apl.
Por._
=Meredith, Owen.= See Bulwer-Lytton, E. R.
=Merivale, Chas.= 1808-1874. Historian. Author Hist. Latin
Christianity, Fall of the Roman Republic, Hist. of the Romans under
the Empire, etc. A writer of much ease and dignity of style, whose
historical estimates are careful and valuable. _Pub. Apl. Har. Rou._
=Merivale, Herman.= 1806-1874. Historical writer. Bro. to C. M.
=Merrick, James.= 1720-1769. Poet. His poem The Chameleon is well
known.
=Miall, Edward.= 1809-1881. Political writer. Author Ethics of
Non-Conformity, The Voluntary Principle, etc.
=Mickle, Wm. Julius.= 1734-1788. Scotch poet. His poem, Cumnor Hall,
suggested Scott's Kenilworth. _See Works of, 1808._
=Middleton, Conyers.= 1683-1750. Theologian. M. wrote a Life of Cicero
and a Free Inquiry into the Miraculous Powers of the Church.
=Middleton, Thomas.= 1570-1627. Dramatist. The Witch of Edmonton, a
tragi-comedy, is his most noted play. _See Dyce's edition, 1840._
=Mill, James.= 1773-1836. Scotch historian and philologist. Author of
an impartial Hist. British India, Analysis of the Mind, etc.
=Mill, John Stuart.= 1806-1873. Philosopher. Son to J. M. A profound
but cold thinker and writer. Author System of Logic, Political
Economy, Liberty, Subjection of Women, etc. _See Autobiography,
Table's Eng. Lit., and Caroline Fox's Memories of old Friends._ _Pub.
Apl. Har. Ho. Lit._
=Miller, Hugh.= 1802-1856. Geologist. Author Old Red Sandstone,
Footprints of the Creator, etc., works which greatly helped to
popularize the study of geology. _See Life, by Peter Bayne._ _Pub.
Ca._
=Miller, Thomas.= 180 Poet and novelist. Author Rural Sketches,
Country Scenes, Fair Rosamond, Songs for British Riflemen, etc. _Pub.
Rou._
=Milman, Henry Hart=. 1791-1868. Poet and historian. M. was author of
Fazio, a successful drama, of an excellent Hist. of the Jews, of
numerous poems, and editor of an annotated Gibbon. _Pub. Arm. Har.
Lit. Por. Put. Rou._
=Milnes [milnz], Richard Monckton, Lord Houghton.= 180 Poet and
litterateur. Author Poems of Many Years, Life of Keats, etc. _See
Stedman's Victorian Poets._ _Pub. Rob._
=Milton, John.= 1608-1674. Poet. His literary life sharply defines
itself into 3 periods; in the first, 1626-1640, he wrote the poems
L'Allegro, Il Penseroso, the Pastoral of Comus, and the elegy Lycidas.
During the second, 1640-1660, he wrote prose treatises, mainly
controversial, such as the Areopagitica, and his sonnets. After 1660
came the great epics, Paradise Lost, and Paradise Regained, and the
choral drama Samson Agonistes. A great artist, he created the Eng.
epic, infusing it with his own severe strength and dignity. He had no
humor or feeling for dramatic situation but he could be both graceful
and tender as his early poems show. He was the great Puritan poet. Of
the numerous Lives of Milton the best are, _Masson's and Mark
Pattison's Milton in Eng. Men of Letters. Pickering's, Rossetti's and
Masson's are among the best editions of his poems. For complete
edition of his prose works see Bohn's Standard Library._ _See Hines's
Study of Paradise Lost._ _Pub. Mac._
=Minto, Wm.= 184 Litterateur. Author Characteristics of Eng.
Poets, from Chaucer to Shirley, Manual of Eng. Prose Lit., Defoe in
Eng. Men of Letters, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Mitford, John.= 1781-1859. Poet and critic.
=Mitford, Mary Russell.= 1786-1855. Miscellaneous writer. Author of
the tragedies Julian, Rienzi, Foscari, etc., and the charming series
of those sketches entitled Our Village. _See Fields' Yesterdays with
Authors, and The Friendships of Mary Russell Mitford._ _Pub. Har._
=Mitford, Wm.= 1744-1827. Historian. Author Hist. of Greece, etc. _See
Life, by Lord Redesdale._
=Mivart, St. George.= 182 Naturalist. Author The Genesis of
Species, Contemporary Evolution, The Cat, etc. _Pub. Apl. Mac. Scr._
=Moberly, Geo.= 180 Bp. Salisbury. Religious writer. _Pub. Dut._
=Moir [moi'[e^]r], David Macbeth.= 1798-1851. Scotch poet and
novelist.
=Molesworth, Mrs. Mary Louisa [Stewart]=, "Ennis Graham." 184
Scotch novelist. Author of the novels Hathercourt and Miss Bouverie,
and of numerous excellent juvenile works of which The Cuckoo Clock,
Carrots, and The Tapestry Room are well-known examples. _See The
Spectator, Jan. 1880, Jan. 1881, and Jan. 1882._ _Pub. Har. Ho. Mac.
Rou._
=Monboddo, Lord.= See Burnet, James.
=Montagu, Chas. Earl of Halifax.= 1661-1715. Poet. Co-author with
Prior of The City Mouse and the Country Mouse, and author of
miscellaneous poems. _See Johnson's Lives of the Poets._
=Montagu, Mrs. Elizabeth.= 1720-1800. Founder of the Blue Stocking
Club and author of a once famous essay on the Genius of Shakespeare.
_See Doran's A Lady of the Last Century._
=Montagu, Lady Mary Wortley.= 1690-1762. Famous for her brilliant and
satirical Letters. _See Letters of, edited by Mrs. S.J. Hale, N. Y.,
1856._
=Montgomery [m[o^]nt-g[)u]m-[)e]r-[)i]], James.= 1771-1854. Scotch
poet. His verse is not strong, but some of his hymns are general
favorites. _See Critical Essays, by A. K. H. Boyd._ _Pub. Hou. Rou._
=Montgomery, Robert.= 1808-1855. Poet. Author Satan, etc. Style
stilted, showy, and unnatural. _See Macauley's Miscellaneous Essays._
=Montrose, Marquis of.= See Grahame, James.
=Moore, Edward.= 1712-1757. Dramatist. Author of the tragedy, The
Gamester.
=Moore, John.= 1730-1802. Scotch novelist. Author Zeluco, Edward,
Mordaunt, etc. _See Works, with Memoir, 7 vols., Edinburgh, 1820._
=Moore, Thomas.= 1779-1852. Irish poet. Author of Irish Melodies,
which take high rank as lyrics, Lalla Rookh, a vol. of brilliant and
showy oriental poetry, and of much other verse, as well as several
prose works. Though by no means a great poet, he has always been a
popular one. _See R. H. Montgomery's Life of, 1850; also Earl
Russell's edition of Moore's Diary._ _Pub. Apl. Arm. Clx. Har. Hou.
Le. Lip. For. Rou. Scr._
=More, Hannah.= 1745-1833. Dramatist and ethical writer. Author of
Percy, a drama, and of numerous popular moral tales, of which The
Shepherd of Salisbury Plain is the most famous. _See complete works,
1853._ _See Lives by Shaw, Roberts, Thompson, and Smith._ _Pub. Ca.
Har. Lip._
=More, Henry.= 1614-1687. Philosopher. A writer whose mystical
theories are expressed in a clear, limpid style.
=More, Sir Thomas.= 1480-1530. Philosopher. His famous prose romance,
The Utopia, embodies many of his philosophical views. _See Life by Sir
James Mackintosh._ _Pub. Mac._
=Morell, Thomas.= 1703-1784. Philologist. Author of the text of the
Oratorios of Joshua and Judas Maccabaeus.
=Morgan, Lady Sydney Owenson.= 1783-1859. Irish novelist. Author Wild
Irish Girl, Absenteeism, etc. A voluminous author, spirited but
wanting in refinement.
=Morier, James.= 1780-1849. Oriental novelist. Hajji Baba is his most
noted work. _Pub. Rou._
=Morley, Henry.= 182 Author Hist. Eng. Lit., Tables of Eng.
Lit., Journal of a London Playgoer, Life of Palissy the Potter, etc.
_Pub. Cas._
=Morley, John.= 183 Essayist and biographer. Author Lives of
Voltaire and Rousseau, Limits of the Historic Method, On Compromise,
Burke on Eng. Men of Letters, etc. _Pub. Apl. Har._
=Morris, Wm.= 183 The Defence of Guinevere, Life and Death of
Jason, and The Earthly Paradise are his chief poems. His verse is
mainly classical or mediaeval in subject and epic in form. _See
Stedman's Victorian Poets and Swinburne's Essays and Studies._ _Pub.
Rob._
=Mortimer, Mrs. Favell Lee.= 1802-1878. Religious writer. Author
Reading Without Tears, Peep of Day Series, etc. _Pub. Ca. Har. Hou._
=Morton, Thomas.= 1764-1838. Dramatist. Author Speed the Plough,
Secrets Worth Knowing, etc. _See Gentleman's Mag. Dec. 1838._
=Moss, Thomas.= 1740-1808. Poet. Author of the famous poem beginning
"Pity the sorrows of a poor Old Man."
=Motherwell, Wm.= 1797-1858. Scotch poet. Jeanie Morrison, The
Cavalier's Song, and others of his ballads possess great lyric beauty.
_See edition 1849._
=Mozley, James Bowling.= 1813-1878. Theologian. Author Lect. on the
Miracles, On Subscription to the Articles, Sermons, Essays,
Historical, Theological, etc. A clear, masterly thinker. _Pub. Dut._
=Mozley, Thomas.= 180 Bro. to J. B. M. Author Reminiscences of
Oriel College and the Oxford Movement. _Pub. Hou._
=Mudie [moo'd[)i] or m[=u]'d[)i]] Robert.= Scotch naturalist. Author
of some 90 vols. mainly on natural history; British Birds is his most
important work. _Pub. Har._
=Muller, Friedric Max.= 182 German philologist. Author Chips
from a German Workshop, Science of Lang., Hist. Ancient Sanskrit Lit.,
etc. _Pub. Mac. Scr._
=Muloch, Dinah Maria.= See Craik, Mrs.
=Munday, Anthony.= 1553-1633. Dramatist. _See Carew Hazlitt's Early
English Literature._
=Murchison, Sir Roderick I.= 1792-1871. Geologist of note. _See
Memoirs of, by Geikie, 2 vols., London, 1874._
=Mure, Wm.= 1799-1860. Scotch historian. Author Critical Hist., Lang.
and Lit. of Ancient Greece, The Calendar of the Zodiac of Ancient
Egypt, etc.
=Murphy, Arthur.= 1730-1805. Dramatist. Of his 23 plays The Grecian
Daughter and The Way to Keep Him were the most popular.
=Murray, Alexander.= 1775-1813. Scotch philologist. Author Hist.
European Languages.
=Murray, Hugh.= 1779-1841. Scotch geographer. Author of the
Encyclopedia of Geography, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Myers, Ernest.= 18-- ----. Poet. Author of The Puritans, The Defence
of Rome, and other Poems, etc. _Pub. Mac._
=Myers, Frederic Wm. Henry.= 184 Poet and litterateur. Author of
St. Paul, a poem, The Renewal of Youth and other Poems, Wordsworth in
Eng. Men of Letters, and Essays Modern and Classical. A thoughtful
writer, possessing a graceful and scholarly style. _Pub. Har. Mac.
Ran._
=Nabbes, Thomas.= 1600-1645. Dramatist.
=Nairne, Baroness.= See Oliphant, Carolina.
=Napier, Admiral Sir Chas.= 1786-1860. Military historian. Cousin to
Sir C. J. N. Author Hist. Baltic Campaign, etc. _See Life and
Correspondence, 1862._
=Napier, Gen. Sir Chas. James.= 1782-1853. Author Lights and Shadows
of Military Life, Hist. Ionian Islands, etc. _See Life and Opinions
of, 4 vols., London, 1857._
=Napier, Capt. Henry Edward.= 1789-1853. Historian. Bro. to Sir C. J.
N. Author of a valuable Hist. of Florence in 7 vols. Style easy and
flowing.
=Napier, John.= 1550-1617. Scotch mathematical writer. Inventor of
logarithms.
=Napier, Macvey.= 1776-1847. Scotch writer. Editor of the supplement
and 7th edition of the Encyc. Brit. and for 17 years editor of the
Edinburgh Rev.
=Napier, Mark.= 179 Biographer. Author Memorials of Montrose,
Life and Times of Montrose, etc.
=Napier, Gen. Sir Wm. Francis Patrick.= 1785-1860. Military historian.
Bro. to Sir. C. J. N. and H. E. N. His great work is the Hist. of the
Peninsular War, a work of great value, possessing a perennial charm.
_See H. Martineau's Biographical Sketches, and Life by H. A. Bruce,
1863._ _Pub. Arm. Rou._
=Nares, Edward.= 1762-1841. Elements of General Hist. and the novel,
Thinks I to Myself, are among his chief works.
=Nares, Robert.= 1753-1829. Critical and theological writer. Cousin to
E. N.
=Nash, Thomas.= 1577-1600. Dramatist. Author Summer's Last Will and
Testament, and of many brilliant satirical pamphlets. _See edition of
Pierre Penniless, with Life of Nash by Collier, 1842._
=Neville, Henry.= 1620-1694. Political philosopher. Author of Plato
Redivivus, a dialogue concerning government.
=Newcastle, Margaret, Duchess of.= 1624-1673. An untiring writer of
tasteless works in verse and prose. _See Poems of, edited by E.
Brydges, 1813._
=Newcome, Wm.= 1729-1800. Abp. Armagh. Theologian. Author Harmony of
the Gospels, etc.
=Newman, Francis Wm.= 180 Miscellaneous writer. Author of
Phases of Faith, etc. He has written largely on religious topics from
a rationalistic standpoint.
=Newman, Cardinal John Henry.= 180 Theologian. Bro. to F. W. N.
Author Tract No. 90, Parochial Sermons, Theory of Religious Belief,
The Grammar of Assent, Apologia Pro Vita Sua, Poems, etc. The Apologia
is one of the very finest of autobiographies. Style clear, polished,
and logical. _See Century Mag. June, 1882._ _Pub. Cath._
=Newton, Sir Isaac.= 1642-1727. Mathematical philosopher. A writer of
clear, comprehensive intellect, Author of the Principia and a valuable
treatise on Optics, etc. _See Brewster's Life of._ _Pub. Mac._
=Newton, John.= 1722-1807. Devotional writer. Co-author with Cowper of
the Olney Hymns. _See Works of London, 6 vols. 8vo, 1816._
=Nichol, John.= 183 Scotch litterateur. Author Sketch Am. Lit.,
the drama of Hannibal, Tables of European Lit. and Hist., and a
brilliant monograph on Byron in Eng. Men of Letters. _See Lit. World.
Feb. 24, 1883._ _Pub. Apl. Har._
=Nichol, John Pringle.= 1804-1859. Astronomer. Author The Solar
System, The Stellar Heavens, Dict. Physical Sciences, etc.
=Nicholas, Thomas.= 1820-1879. Ethnologist and historian. Author
Pedigree of the Eng. People, Hist. of Wales, etc.
=Nicholson, Wm.= 1655-1727. Abp. Cashel. Antiquarian writer.
=Nicol, Henry.= 1845-1881. Philologist. Author Hist. Eng. Sounds.
=Nicolas, Sir Nicholas Harris.= 1799-1848. Genealogist. Author Hist.
Orders of Knighthood of the Brit. Empire, etc.
=Nicoll, Robert.= 1814-1837. Scotch poet.
=Noel-Fearn, Henry= [Christmas]. 1811-1868. Miscellaneous writer.
Author Science and History, Preachers and Preaching, etc.
=Norris, John.= 1657-1711. Platonic philosopher. Author Theory of the
Ideal World, etc.
=North, Christopher.= See Wilson, John.
=Norton, Mrs. Caroline Elizabeth Sheridan= [Lady Maxwell]. 1808-1877.
Poet and novelist. Her verse has much grace and intensity of feeling.
Bingen on the Rhine is her most quoted poem. _Pub. Har. Lip. Mac.
Ran._
=Norton, Thomas.= 1532-1584. Dramatist. Co-author with Sackville of
the tragedy Ferrex and Porrex, and assistant of Sternhold and Hopkins
in their metrical version of the Psalms.
=Nugent, Lord.= See Grenville, George.
=Occam, Wm. of.= 1270-1347. Philosopher. Defender of the doctrine of
Nominalism and the greatest logician of the Middle Ages.
=Occleve, Thos.= c. 1370-1454. Poet. His verse has little merit.
=O'Hare, Kane.= 1722-1782. Irish dramatist.
=O'Keefe, John.= 1747-1833. Irish dramatist. The best of his numerous
plays and operas, some of which are still acted, is Wild Oats.
=Oldham, John.= 1653-1683. Poet. Author of Satires against the
Jesuits. Style spirited and forcible. _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 2._
=Oldmixon, John.= 1673-1742. Dramatist and historian. His plays and
histories are of slight value, and his chief title to remembrance is
Pope's satire upon him in The Dunciad.
=Oldys, Wm.= 1696-1761. Biographer and antiquarian. Best known by his
famous little poem, The Fly and the Cup of Ale.
=Oliphant, Carolina, Baroness Nairne.= 1766-1845. Scotch poet. Her
songs, such as Land o' the Leal, Caller Herrin', etc., take a high
rank. _See Complete Works, with Life by C. Rogers, Edinburgh, 1869._
=Oliphant, Laurence.= 182 Satirist and miscellaneous writer.
Author of Piccadilly, a Fragment of Contemporaneous Biography, Tender
Recollections of Irene McGillicuddy, Altiora Peto, etc. _Pub. Apl.
Har._
=Oliphant, Mrs. Margaret.= 182 Novelist. Author of a long series
of novels, all good, and some very fine, and much well written
biography. Her style is even, her turns of expression felicitous and
her character drawing truthful. The Perpetual Curate, Chronicles of
Carlingford, Zaidee, Harry Joscelyn, Son of the Soil, Lady Jane, The
Little Pilgrim, and the Literary Hist. of England are some of her best
books. Few authors have written so much and so uniformly well. _Pub.
Apl. Har. Ho. Lip. Mac. Por._
=O'Meara, Barry Edward.= 1780-1836. Napoleonic writer. Author Letters
from St. Helena, Memoirs of Napoleon, Napoleon in Exile, etc. _Pub.
Arm. Wid._
=Opie, Mrs. Amelia= [Alderson]. 1769-1853. Novelist and poet. Father
and Daughter is her best novel, The Orphan Boy her most familiar poem.
Style simple and pathetic. _See Miss Brightwell's Life of, London,
1834, and H. Martineau's Biographical Sketches._ _Pub. Ca._
=Orme, Robert.= 1728-1801. Historian. Hist. British in India, etc.
=O'Shaughnessy [o'shaw'n[)e]-s[)i], Arthur W. E.= 1844-1881. Author
Songs of a Worker, Lays of France, Music and Moonlight, etc. _See
Stedman's Victorian Poets, and Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 4, 2d edition._
=Ossian.= Mythical Keltic bard. See Macpherson, James.
=Ottley, Wm. Young.= 1771-1836. Art writer. Author The Italian School
of Design, Engravers and their Works, etc.
=Otway, Thomas.= 1651-1685. Dramatist. A tragic writer of great
pathos. His greatest works, Venice Preserved and The Orphan are still
occasionally acted. _See Works with Life, by Thornton, 1813._
=Ouida.= See De la Rame, Louisa.
=Ousely [ooz'l[)i]], Sir Wm.= 1771-1842. Orientalist. Author Oriental
Collections, Travels in Persia, etc.
=Overbury, Sir Thomas.= 1581-1613. Poet and philosopher. Characters,
his chief work, contains an exquisite and oft quoted description of A
Fair and Happy Milkmaid.
=Owen, John.= 1616-1683. Theologian. Style heavy and labored. _See
edition of 1826 with Life._ _Pub. P. B._
=Owen, Richard.= 180 Scientific writer of note. Author Lect. on
Comparative Anatomy, etc.
=Owen, Robert.= 1771-1858. Writer on social reforms. _See H.
Martineau's Biographical Sketches._
=Owenson, Sydney.= See Morgan, Lady.
=Oxenden, Ashton.= 180 Bp. Montreal. Religious writer. Author
Pathway of Safety, Our Church and her Services, Thoughts for Lent,
etc. _Pub. Dut. Ran. Wh._
=Oxenford, John.= 1812-1877. Dramatist and critic. Translator of
Goethe's Autobiography.
=Paley, Frederic Apthorp.= 181 Classical scholar. Grandson to W.
P. Editor and translator of numerous classical works.
=Paley, Wm.= 1743-1805. Moral philosopher. Author Natural Theology,
Elements of Moral and Political Philosophy, etc. _See Complete Works,
4 vols., London, 1838, biography by Meadley, 1839._ _Pub. Ca. Nel.
Har._
=Palgrave [pawl'gr[=a]v], Sir Francis.= 1788-1861. Historian. Author
Hist. of the Anglo-Saxons, Rise and Progress of the Eng. Commonwealth,
Anglo-Saxon Period, Hist. of Normandy and of England, etc. _Pub. Mac._
=Palgrave, Francis Turner.= 182 Poet and critic. Son to F. P.
Author Essays on Art, Hymns, Lyrical Poems, etc. _See Stedman's
Victorian Poets._ _Pub. Mac. Por. Ran. Rou._
=Palgrave, Wm. Gifford.= 182 Traveller. Son to F. P. Author
Essays on the Eastern Question, Dutch Guiana, Herman Agha, etc. _Pub.
Ho. Mac._
=Palmer, Sir Roundell= [Baron Selborne]. 181 Author of the Book
of Praise. _Pub. Mac._
=Pardoe [par'd[=o]], Julia.= 1806-1862. Novelist and historical
writer. Author Court and Reign of Francis I., etc. _Pub. Har. Pet._
=Paris, Matthew.= ---- 1259. Historical writer. _See Bohn's
Antiquarian Library._
=Park, Mungo.= 1771-1805. Scotch explorer and writer of travels. _Pub.
Har._
=Parker, John Henry.= 180 Writer on Architecture. Author
Glossary of Arch., Introduction to the Study of Gothic Arch., Domestic
Arch. of the Middle Ages, etc., _Pub. Lit._
=Parnell [par'nell], Thomas.= 1669-1718. Poet. Author of The Hermit,
etc. _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 3._ _Pub. Hou._
=Parr, Harriet= ["Holme Lee"]. 18-- ----. Novelist. Author Sylvan
Holt's Daughter, Kathie Brande, For Richer for Poorer, etc. _Pub. Har.
Por._
=Parr, Mrs. Louisa.= 18-- ----. Novelist. Author Dorothy Fox, Adam and
Eve, etc. _Pub. Ho. Lip._
=Parr, Samuel.= 1747-1825. Classical scholar and critic. _See Field's
Memoirs of, 1828._
=Pater, Walter H.= 183 Author Studies on the Hist. of the
Renaissance. _Pub. Mac._
=Patmore, Coventry Kearsey Dighton.= 182 Poet. Author Angel in
the House, Faithful Forever, and other vols. of rather commonplace
verse. _See Stedman's Victorian Poets._ _Pub. Dut. Mac._
=Pattison, Mark.= 181 Author Tendencies of Religious Thought in
England, a noted Biography of Isaac Casaubon, Milton in Eng. Men. of
Letters, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Payn, James.= 183 Novelist. A writer of excellent stories; Lost
Sir Massingberd, and By Proxy, being among the best. _Pub. Apl. Har.
Pet._
=Peacock, Thos. Love.= 1785-1866. Novelist and poet. Maid Marian,
Headlong Hall, etc., are lively, witty novels. _See Complete Works
edited by Cole, 1875._ _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 4._
=Pearson, Charles Henry.= 183 Historian. Author Hist. of England
in the Early and Middle Ages. _Pub. Put._
=Pearson, John.= 1613-1686. Bp. Chester. Theologian. His Exposition of
the Creed is still a standard theological work. _Pub. Apl. Mac._
=Pecock, Reginald.= 1390-1460. Bp. Chichester. Theologian. Author of
The Repressor, etc. _See Morley's Eng. Writers, vol. 2._
=Peele, George.= 1552-1598. Dramatist and poet. Author Arraignment of
Paris, Absalom, Edward I., etc. In places Peele's verse is very
musical. _See Lamb's Dramatic Poets; also Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 1,
and Ulrici's Dramatic Art._
=Penn, Wm.= 1644-1718. No Cross No Crown, his most noted work, sets
forth the doctrines of the Quakers. _See Lives, by H. Dixon, Janney,
and Wirt._
=Pennant, Thomas.= 1726-1798. Antiquarian and writer on natural
history.
=Pennell, Henry Cholmondeley [ch[)u]m'l[)i]].= 183 Poet. Author
of Puck on Pegasus, Pegasus Re-saddled, etc., and several works on
Angling. _Pub. Rou._
=Pepys [peeps or p[)e]ps], Samuel.= 1633-1703. Author of a famous
Diary presenting an extremely lifelike picture of the time of Charles
II. _See Samuel Pepys and the World he Lived In, by Henry B. Wheatly._
_See Braybrooke edition_, _pub. Apl._; _Bright edition, London_, _pub.
Bi._
=Percy, Thos.= 1728-1811. Bp. Dromore. Poet and editor of the famous
Reliques of Ancient Eng. Poetry, a work of great influence upon
subsequent Eng. verse. _See Hales's and Furnivall's edition, 1868._
_Pub. Por. Rou._
=Phillimore, John George.= 1809-1865. Jurist. Author Hist. Law of
Evidence, Principles and Maxims of Jurisprudence. _Pub. Mac._
=Phillimore, Robert Joseph.= 181 Jurist. Bro. to J. G. P. Author
Civil and Canon Law, Eccl. Law Church of England, etc. _Pub. Jo._
=Philips, Ambrose.= 1675-1749. Dramatist. A writer of trifling merit,
who is chiefly remembered on account of Pope's vindictive satire upon
him.
=Philips, John.= 1676-1708. Poet. Author of the mock-heroic poem The
Splendid Shilling.
=Philips, Mrs. Katharine.= 1631-1664. Poet. Known as "The Matchless
Orinda."
=Phillips, Halliwell.= See Halliwell-Phillips.
=Pickering, Ellen.= ---- 1843. Novelist. Author Who Shall be Heir,
Secret Foe, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Pindar, Peter.= See Wolcott, John.
=Pinkerton, John.= 1758-1826. Scotch historian and antiquary. His
Hist. of Scotland and other works are fiercely controversial in tone.
=Piozzi [p[=e]-[)o]t'see], Mrs. Hester [Lynch]. Mrs. Thrale.=
1740-1821. Author Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson, etc., and the well-known
poem The Three Warnings. _See Autobiography, Letters, etc., 1861._
=Pitt, Wm., Lord Chatham.= 1708-1778. Statesman. His numerous Speeches
rank among the finest of their class.
=Planche [plon-sh[=a]'], James Robinson.= 1796-1870. Dramatist. A
prolific writer of dramas, fairy extravaganzas and farces; Prince
Charming, Yellow Dwarf, etc. _See Bric-a-brac Series, 1st vol., and
The Biograph, March, 1880._
=Plumptre, Edward Hayes.= 182 Poet and translator. Author
Lazarus and other Poems, etc., Byways of Scripture, etc., and
translation of Sophocles and AEschylus. His verse is didactic in
character. _Pub. Dut. Mac. Rou._
=Pole, Reginald, Cardinal.= 1500-1558. Theological writer.
=Pollock, Frederick.= 184 Jurist. Author Principles of Contract,
Digest of Law of Partnership, Spinoza: his Life and Philosophy, and
The Land Laws in Macmillan's Eng. Citizen Series. _Pub. Mac. Th._
=Pollock, Robert.= 1799-1827. Scotch poet. Author of The Course of
Time, a heavy, didactic, blank-verse poem, once very popular. _Pub.
Apl. Ca. Clx._
=Pomfret, John.= 1667-1703. Poet. Author of The Choice. _See Life, by
Dr. Johnson._
=Poole, John.= 1786-1872. Dramatist and humorist. Author of the
comedy, Paul Pry, Little Pedlington, a vol. of witty sketches, The
Comic Sketch-Book, etc.
=Poole, Matthew.= 1624-1679. Biblical Commentator. _Pub. Ca._
=Pope, Alexander.= 1688-1744. A correct, polished poet whose verse
lacks sentiment and feeling. The heroic couplet is his usual measure.
His translation of Homer, though a fine effort, lacks the freshness
and spontaneity of its original. His chief poems are Essay on Man,
Moral Essays, The Dunciad, a talented but terrible satire, and The
Rape of the Lock, a brilliant, glittering piece of literary trifling.
_See editions of, by A. W. Ward, Cowden-Clarke, and Rossetti._ _See
Lowell's My Study Windows; also Leslie Stephen's Pope in Eng. Men of
Letters._ _Pub. Apl. Le. Mac. Rou._
=Porson, Richard.= 1759-1808. Classical scholar and writer of note.
_See Watson's Life of, 1861._
=Porter, Anna Maria.= 1781-1832. Novelist. Don Sebastian is perhaps
the best of her numerous novels.
=Porter, Jane.= 1776-1850. Novelist. Sister to A. M. P. The famous
romances Thaddeus of Warsaw and Scottish Chiefs are her chief works.
_Pub. Apl. Le. Lip. Por._
=Powell, Baden.= 1796-1860. Philosopher. Author Hist. Nat. Philosophy,
Spirit of Inductive Philosophy, Study and Evidence of Christianity,
etc.
=Poynter, E. Frances.= 18-- ----. Novelist. Author My Little Lady,
Ersilia, Among the Hills, etc. _Pub. Ho._
=Praed [pr[=a]d], Winthrop Mackworth.= 1802-1839. Poet. A writer of
pleasing verse, of which the Belle of the Ball is a good example. _See
Complete Works, edited by Sir Geo. Young._ _See Ward's Eng. Poets,
vol. 4._ _Pub. Arm._
=Price, Bonamy.= 180 Political economist. Author Practical
Political Economy, Currency and Banking, Principles of Currency, etc.
_Pub. Apl._
=Prideaux [pr[)i]d'o, or pr[)i]d-[)u]x], Humphrey.= 1648-1724.
Theologian. Noted for his Connection of the Old and New Testaments.
_Pub. Har. Mac._
=Priestley, Joseph.= 1733-1804. Theologian and scientist. Author of
over 300 books on chemistry, theology, metaphysics, etc. _See Works
of, 1824, 26 vols._ _See Life of, by Corry._
=Pringle, Thomas.= 1789-1834. Scotch poet. His best poem is the
spirited Afar in the Desert. _See Grant Wilson's Poets of Scotland._
=Prior, Matthew.= 1664-1721. Poet. A sprightly writer whose light and
airy style is seen to best advantage in his comic narrative poems.
_See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 3._ _Pub. Hou._
=Procter, Adelaide Anne.= 1825-1864. Poet. Dau. to B. W. P. Author
Legends and Lyrics. _See Stedman's Victorian Poets._ _Pub. Hou._
=Procter, Bryan Waller, "Barry Cornwall."= 1790-1874. Poet. A writer
of somewhat over-praised lyric verse. The tragedy of Mirandola is his
finest dramatic effort. _See Autobiography. Compare Stedman's
Victorian Poets and Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 4._
=Proctor Richard Anthony.= 183 Astronomer. Author Other Worlds
than Ours, Our Place Among the Infinities, etc. _Pub. Apl. Arm. Lip.
Put._
=Prout, Father.= See Mahoney, Francis.
=Prynne, Wm.= 1600-1669. Political and antiquarian writer.
=Pugin [p[=u]-jin], Augustus.= 1792-1832. Architectural writer of
note.
=Pugin, Augustin Welby Northmore.= 1812-1852. Architect. Son to A. P.
Author Examples of Gothic Architecture, Glossary of Eccl. Ornament,
etc. _See Ferrey's Recollections of A. W. N. Pugin and Augustus Pugin,
1861._
=Purchas, Samuel.= 1577-1628. Chronicler and compiler of travels.
=Pusey [p[=u]'z[)i]], Edward Bouverie.= 1800-1882. Theologian. Author
Hist. Councils of the Church, Doctrine of the Real Presence, etc, and
many of the Tracts for the Times. The earlier Ritualists were named
Puseyites. His influence greatly deepened the religious feeling of the
Anglican Church. _See Life, by Liddon._ _Pub. Apl._
=Pusey, Philip Edward.= 18-- 1880. Theological writer. Son to E. B. P.
=Puttenham, George.= 1530-c. 1600. Author of The Art of Eng. Poesie.
=Pye, Henry James.= 1745-1813. Poet. Author of very indifferent verse.
=Quarles, Francis.= 1592-1644. Poet. An ingenious versifier, very
popular in his own day, and now chiefly known by his Divine Emblems
and a vol. of prose maxims entitled Enchiridion.
=Quarles, John.= 1624-1665. Poet. Son to F. Q. Author Divine
Meditations, etc. His verse is marked by the same fantastic, labored
conceits as that of his father.
=Quincey, Thos. de.= See De Quincey.
=Radcliffe, Mrs. Ann [Ward].= 1764-1823. Novelist. A writer of
powerful sensational romances, the best known of which are The
Mysteries of Udolpho and Romance of the Forest. _See Memoir of, by
Talfourd, and Memoir of, by Miss Rossetti._ _Pub. Clx. Rou._
=Raleigh [raw'l[)i]], Sir Walter.= 1532-1618. His chief work, The
Hist. of the World, has great literary merit. _See Lives, by
Whitehead, Oldys, Birch, Cayley, Thomson, Tytler, Napier, St. John,
and Edwards. See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 1._
=Ramsay [r[)a]m'z[)i]], Allan.= 1685-1758. Scotch poet. Author of the
pastoral poem The Gentle Shepherd. _See edition 1800, with Life; also
Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 3._
=Ramsay, Edward Bannerman.= 1793-1872. Author of the famous
Reminiscences of Scottish Life and Character, Sermons, Pulpit
Table-Talk, etc. _See 23d edition of the Reminiscences, 1874, and
Memorials and Recollections, by C. Rogers._
=Randolph, Thos.= 1605-1634. Poet and dramatist. His works are
inferior in quality. The Jealous Lover is one of his plays. _See Works
of, edited by Carew Hazlitt, 1875, and Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 2._
=Rankine, Wm. John Macquorn.= 1820-1872. Writer on mechanics. Author
Applied Mechanics, The Steam Engine, Songs and Fables, etc. _See
Memoir, by P. G. Tait._ _Pub. Apl. Mac._
=Rawlinson, George Henry.= 181 Historian. Author The Five Great
Monarchies of the Eastern World, Manual of Ancient Hist., The Seventh
Great Oriental Monarchy, etc. _Pub. Apl. Do. Est. Har. Mac._
=Rawlinson, Sir Henry Creswicke.= 181 Archaeological writer of
note. Bro. to G. H. R.
=Ray, John.= 1628-1705. Naturalist. Author of the Historia Plantarum,
etc. _See Life, by Wm. Derham, 1760._
=Reach, Angus Bethune.= 1821-1856. Novelist and miscellaneous writer.
Author of Leonard Lindsay, The Natural Hist. of Bores and Humbugs, The
Comic Bradshaw, etc. _See Chas. Mackay's Recollections._ _Pub. Rou._
=Reade, Charles.= 181 Novelist. A writer of strong genius, whose
style is piquant and aggressive. Put Yourself in his Place, Griffith
Gaunt, The Cloister and the Hearth, and Christie Johnstone are among
his best novels. _See Atlantic Monthly, Aug. 1864._ _Pub. Har._
=Redding, Cyrus.= 1785-1870. Miscellaneous writer. Author of A Wife
and Not a Wife, Remarkable Misers, Past Celebrities, etc.
=Reeve, Clara.= 1725-1803. Novelist. Author Old English Baron, etc.
=Reeve, Lovell.= 1814-1865. Conchologist. Author Conchologia Iconica,
Elements of Conchology, Conchologia Systematica, etc. _Pub. Put._
=Reeves, Mrs. Helen Buckingham [Mathers].= 185 Novelist. Author
of Cherry Ripe, Comin' thro' the Rye, My Lady Green Sleeves, As He
Comes Up the Stair, Land o' the Leal, Sam's Sweetheart, etc. _Pub.
Apl._
=Reid, Mayne.= 1818-1883. Author of tales of adventure for young
readers. _Pub. Rou. Sh._
=Reid, Thomas.= 1710-1796. Scotch metaphysician. Author Inquiry into
the Human Mind, Essays on the Intellectual Powers, etc. _See
Hamilton's edition of Reid, 1846._
=Reynolds, Frederick.= 1765-1841. Dramatist. Author of nearly 100
plays, of which The Dramatist and Folly as it Flies are the best.
=Reynolds, George W. M.= ---- 1879. Novelist. Author Mysteries of
London, Reformed Highwayman, etc. Style sensational, and influence
pernicious. _Pub. Di. Pet._
=Reynolds, Sir Joshua.= 1723-1792. Artist. Author Discourse on
Painting. _See Malone's edition of, 1797._ _See Lives by Malone,
Northcote, Farrington, Cotton, and Leslie, Mrs. Thackeray-Ritchie's
Miss Angel, and Reynolds as a Portrait Painter, by J. E. Collins._
=Ricardo [re-kar'do], David.= 1792-1823. Political economist. Author
High Price of Bullion, Principles of Political Economy and Taxation,
etc. _See McCulloch's edition, 1846._
=Rice, James.= 1843-1882. Novelist. Colleague of Walter Besant, and
author with him of Sweet Nelly My Heart's Delight, Golden Butterfly,
and other novels. See Besant, Walter. _Pub. Har._
=Richards, Alfred Bate.= 1820-1876. Poet and dramatist. Author of
Cromwell, Vandyck, and other dramas, Medea, and other vols. of poems,
and the novel So Very Human.
=Richardson, Chas.= 1775-1865. Lexicographer. Author of an Eng. Dict.
and The Study of Language.
=Richardson, Samuel.= 1689-1761. Novelist. Author Pamela, Clarissa
Harlowe, and Sir Charles Grandison. The slow movement of these stories
does not appeal readily to modern taste, but they display a wonderful
knowledge of the workings of the human heart. Clarissa, the best, is a
fine piece of realism. _See Taine's Eng. Lit., Masson's Novelists and
their Styles, and Leslie Stephen's Hours in a Library._ _Pub. Ho.
Rou._
=Richmond, Leigh.= 1772-1827. Moralist. Author The Dairyman's
Daughter, etc. _Pub. Ca. Phi. Rou._
=Riddell, Mrs. Charlotte Eliza Lawson.= 18-- ----. Novelist. Author
George Geith, A Life's Assize, The Senior Partner, etc. _Pub. Clx.
Est. Har. Pet._
=Riddell, Henry Scott.= 1798-1870. Scotch poet. _See Grant Wilson's
Poets of Scotland._
=Riddell, Mrs. J. H.= See Riddell, Mrs. Charlotte.
=Ritchie, Mrs. Anne Isabella.= See Thackeray-Ritchie.
=Ritchie, Leitch.= 1801-1865. Miscellaneous writer. Author of
Headpieces and Tailpieces, Wearyfoot Common, Romance of French
History, etc.
=Ritson, Joseph.= 1752-1803. Antiquary and critic.
=Roberts, Margaret.= 183 Novelist. Author Mademoiselle Mori,
Denise, The Atelier du Lys, In the Olden Time, On the Edge of the
Storm, Ose, Tempest tossed, Madame Fontenoy, Summerleigh Manor, etc.
_Pub. Ho._
=Robertson, Frederick Wm.= 1816-1853. Religious writer. Author 4 vols.
of sermons, which rank among the finest religious utterances of the
age. _See Life, by Stopford Brooke, and Blackwood's Mag., Aug. 1862._
_Pub. Dut. Har._
=Robertson, James Burton.= 180 Historical writer. Author Lect.
on Various Subjects of Ancient and Modern Hist., etc.
=Robertson, James Craigie.= 1813-1882. Ecclesiastical historian.
Author Hist. of the Christian Church, Biography of Thomas a Becket,
etc.
=Robertson, Thos. Wm.= 1829-1871. Dramatist. Author David Garrick,
Ours, Caste, M. P., and other lively and popular plays.
=Robertson, Wm.= 1721-1793. Scotch historian. Author Hist. Scotland,
Hist. Reign of Charles V., Hist. Discovery of America, etc. His style
is picturesque, but his statements are sometimes inaccurate. _See
Prescott's Robertson's Charles V. Pub. Har._
=Robinson, A. Mary F.= 185- ----. Poet and litterateur. Author of A
Handful of Honeysuckle, The Crowned Hippolytus, Rural England, and
Emily Bronte, in Famous Women Series, etc. _Pub. Rob._
=Robinson, Frederick Wm.= 183 Novelist. Author of A Bridge of
Glass, As Long as she Lived, Poor Zeph, Her Face was her Fortune,
Little Kate Kirby, Second-Cousin Sarah, Stern Necessity, True to
Herself, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Robinson, Henry Crabb.= 1775-1867. He left an entertaining Diary,
published in 1869. _Pub. Hou. Mac._
=Robinson, Mrs. Mary.= 1758-1800. Poet and actress. Known to her
contemporaries as "Perdita, the Fair."
=Rochester, Earl of.= See Wilmot, John.
=Rogers, Charles.= 182 Scotch antiquarian writer. Author of A
Century of Scottish Life, Boswelliana, Scotland: Social and Domestic,
etc.
=Rogers, Henry.= 1810-1877. Critic. Author Eclipse of Faith, Reason
and Faith, etc. _Pub. Rou. Scr._
=Rogers, Samuel.= 1763-1855. Poet. Author Pleasures of Memory, a fine
though labored production, Italy, etc. _See Hazlitt's Eng. Poets._
_Pub. Lip._
=Romilly, Sir Samuel.= 1757-1818. Jurist. Author of Speeches, etc.
_See Autobiography, 1840._
=Roscoe, Henry.= 1800-1836. Son to W. R. Author Lives of Eminent
Lawyers, etc. _Pub. Jo._
=Roscoe, Thos.= 1791-1871. Son to W. R. Translator of important
Italian works.
=Roscoe, Wm.= 1753-1831. Historian. Author Lives of Lorenzo de Medici
and Leo X., etc. A careful, painstaking writer, whose works, written
in an easy, flowing style, are standard of their kind. _See Life of,
by Henry Roscoe._
=Roscommon, Earl of.= See Dillon, Wentworth.
=Rose, George.= "Arthur Sketchley." 1830-1882. Litterateur. Best known
by his humorous Mrs. Brown sketches. _Pub. Rou._
=Rose, Henry John.= 1801-1873.} Authors of a General} Biographical
=Rose, Hugh James.= 1795-1838.} Dict., etc. Bro. to preceding.}
=Rose, Wm.= 1762-1790. Scotch pastoral poet. His Praise of the
Highland Maid is one of his best poems. _See Grant Wilson's Poetry of
Scotland._
=Rose, Wm. Stewart.= 1775-1843. Poet. Translator of Ariosto.
=Ross, Alexander.= 1699-1784. Scotch poet. Best known by his ballad
Woo'd and Married and a'. _See Irving's Scottish Writers._
=Ross-Church, Mrs. Florence [Marryatt].= 183 Novelist. Author
Her Lord and Master, The Prey of the Gods, No Intentions, etc. _Pub.
Har._
=Rossetti [r[)o]s-s[)e]t'tee], Christina Georgina.= 183 Poet.
Author of The Pageant, Sonnet of Sonnets, Goblin Market, etc. Style
serious and earnest. _See Stedman's Victorian Poets._ _Pub. Mac. Rob._
=Rossetti, Dante Gabriel.= 1828-1882. Poet and artist. Bro. to C. G.
R. A writer of the so-called Pre-Raphaelite school, whose verse is
passionate and musical. Sister Helen, The Blessed Damozel, and Rose
Mary are his most striking poems. _See Stedman's Victorian Poets,
Swinburne's Essays and Studies, Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 4, 2d edition,
Essays Modern, by F. W. H. Myers, Wm. Sharp's_ _Record and Study of
Rossetti, Cornhill Mag. Feb. 1883, Contemporary Rev. Feb. 1883,
Harper's Mag. Nov. 1882, and English Illus. Mag. Oct. 1883._ _Pub.
Rob._
=Rossetti, Maria Francesca.= 1827-1875. Commentator on Dante. Sister
to two preceding. Author The Shadow of Dante, etc. _Pub. Rob._
=Rossetti, Wm. Michael.= 182 Biographer and critic. Author Fine
Art, etc. Bro. to three preceding. _Pub. Mac._
=Rowe [r[=o]], Nicholas.= 1673-1718. Dramatist and Shakespearean
editor. Author Jane Shore, Fair Penitent, etc. His dramas are
melancholy, but never licentious, like those of his contemporaries.
=Rowley, Wm.= fl. c. 1625. Dramatist. Colleague of Dekker and Ford in
the Witch of Edmonton, and of Massinger and Middleton in the Old Law.
=Roy, William.= fl. c. 1525. Poet. Author of a singular satire upon
Wolsey and the clergy, entitled Read me and be not Wroth, for I say
Nothing but Troth.
=Roydon, Matthew.= fl. c. 1585. Poet. Author of the beautiful Lament
for Astrophel, an elegy upon Sir Philip Sidney.
=Ruskin, John.= 181 Art critic. Author Modern Painters, Stones
of Venice, Seven Lamps of Architecture, Sesame and Lilies, Fors
Clavigera, etc. Style original, masterly, and of rare beauty. Its
chief defect is a vein of petulance and intolerance, which is
strongest in his latest books. _Pub. Wil._
=Russell, John, Earl.= 1792-1878. Statesman. Author Causes of the
French Revolution, Life and Times of Chas. James Fox, Establishment of
the Turks in Europe, etc. _Pub. Rob._
=Russell, John Scott.= 180 Engineer. Author Modern System of
Naval Architecture, a work of great practical value. _Pub. Apl._
=Russell, Michael.= 1781-1848. Bp. Glasgow. Scotch historian.
=Russell, Lady Rachel.= 1636-1723. Her Letters are of much literary
and historical value. _See Earl Russell's edition, 1854._
=Russell, Wm.= 1741-1793. Scotch historian. Author Hist. Modern
Europe, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Russell, Wm. Clark.= 184 Marine novelist. Author Wreck of the
Grosvenor, A Sailor's Sweetheart, An Ocean Free Lance, Jack's
Courtship, Little Loo, etc. Style original and spirited. _Pub. Har._
=Russell, Wm. Howard.= 182 Journalist. Author Hist. of the
Crimean War, Diary North and South, Diary in India, Hesperothen, etc.
_Pub. Har. Rou._
=Ryle, John Charles.= 181 Bp. Liverpool. A popular religious
writer. Author Expository Thoughts on the Gospels, etc. _Pub. Ca. Phi.
Ran._
=Rymer, Thos.= 1638-1714. Antiquary and critic. Author of Edgar, a
play, The Tragedies of the Last Age Considered, etc., and compiler of
Rymer's F[oe]dera, a collection of treatises, etc.
=Sackville, Chas., Earl of Dorset.= 1637-1705. Poet Author of the
bright, lively song To all you Ladies now on Land. _See Ward's Eng.
Poets, vol. 2._
=Sackville, Thos., Earl of Dorset and Lord Buckhurst.= 1536-1608.
Poet. Author of the Induction and one tale of the Mirror for
Magistrates, and, with Thos. Norton, of the tragedy of Gorboduc. _See
edition 1820._
=Sadler, Michael Thos.= 1780-1830. Author of The Law of Population,
etc.
=Sainsbury, Wm. Noel.= 182 Editor of Colonial Calendar of State
Papers, America and West Indies, 1574-1668, etc.
=St. John, Bayle.= 1822-1859. Miscellaneous writer. Son to J. A. St.
John. Author Village Life in Egypt, Memoirs of St. Simon, The Turks in
Europe, etc.
=St. John, Henry, Viscount Bolingbroke.= 1678-1751. Political
essayist. His Letter to Sir Wm. Windham [a vol. of 300 pages] is his
chief work.
=St. John, Horace Roscoe.= 183 Son to J. A. St. John. Author The
Indian Archipelago, Hist. British Conquests in India, etc.
=St. John, James Augustus.= 1801-1875. Miscellaneous writer. Author of
The Anatomy of Society, The Nemesis of Power, Manners and Customs of
Ancient Greece.
=St. John, Percy Bolingbroke.= 182 Writer of tales of adventure.
Son to J. A. St. John. Author The Arctic Crusoe, The Creole Bride, The
Red Queen, etc.
=St. John, Spenser.= 182 Son to J. A. St. John. Author Life in
the Forests of the Far West, etc.
=Saintsbury, Geo. Warner.= 184 Litterateur. Author Dryden, in
Eng. Men of Letters, Primer of French Lit., etc. _Pub. Har. Mac._
=Sala, George Augustus.= 182 Novelist, essayist, and journalist.
Author Quite Alone, Twice Round the Clock, Paris Herself Again, etc.
_Pub. Fu. Har. Rou._
=Sale, George.= 1680-1736. Orientalist. Translator of the Koran. _Pub.
Lip._
=Sanderson, Robert.= 1587-1663. Bp. Salisbury. Theological writer of
great learning. _Pub. Mac._
=Sandys, George.= 1577-1644. Poet and traveler. Translator of Ovid.
_See Tyler's Am. Lit. vol. 1._
=Sartoris, Mrs. Adelaide [Kemble].= 1816-1879. Author of A Week in a
French Country House, a work of great freshness and beauty, and of
Medusa and Other Tales.
=Savage, Marmion.= ---- 1872. Irish novelist. Author of The Bachelor of
the Albany, The Woman of Business, Reuben Medlicott, etc. _Pub. Apl._
=Savage, Richard.= 1698-1743. Poet. A writer of languid verse, and
held in remembrance mainly by Johnson's Biography of him.
=Saville, George, Marquess of Halifax.= 1630-1695. Political writer.
The literary merit of his treatises is considerable.
=Saville, Sir Henry.= 1549-1622. Antiquarian. Editor of a noted
edition of Chrysostom, 1613.
=Sawyer, Wm.= 182 Poet. Author of A Year of Song, The Legend of
Phillis, etc.
=Sayce, Archibald Henry.= 184 Philologist. Author of An Assyrian
Grammar, Principles of Comparative Philology, Introduction to the
Science of Language, etc.
=Schreiber, Lady Charlotte Elizabeth.= c. 1814-c. 1879. Welsh writer.
Translator of The Mabinogion.
=Scot, Sir Alexander.= fl. c. 1562. Scotch poet. His verse is amatory
in tone. _See edition by David Laing, 1821._ _See Grant Wilson's Poets
of Scotland._
=Scott, John.= 1730-1783. Scotch poet. His productions are flavorless
and poor.
=Scott, Michael.= 1789-1835. Novelist. Author Tom Cringle's Log, etc.
=Scott, Sir Michael.= fl. c. 1250. Scotch philosopher.
=Scott, Robert=. 181 Classical scholar. One of the editors of
Liddell and Scott's Greek Lexicon.
=Scott, Thomas.= 1747-1821. Commentator. Author Bible Commentary, etc.
_Pub. Lip._
=Scott, Sir Walter.= 1771-1832. Scotch novelist and poet. Author of a
long series of romances, beginning with Waverley, in 1814, and ending
with Anne of Geierstein, in 1829. S. first made the novel a really
great power in life as well as in literature. The flow of his
narrative is always animated and infused with a kindly spirit. Guy
Mannering, Ivanhoe, Old Mortality, and Quentin Durward are among the
best of his novels. The Lady of the Lake, Marmion, and Lay of the Last
Minstrel are fine narrative poems, filled with vivid descriptions of
Scotch scenery. _See Taine's Eng. Lit., Masson's Novelists and Their
Styles, and Hutton's Scott, in Eng. Men of Letters._ _See also The
Waverley Dict., by May Rogers._
=Scott, Wm. Bell.= 181 Poet and art writer. Author The Year of
the World, Life of Albert Duerer, etc. _See Grant Wilson's Poets of
Scotland._ _Pub. Rou._
=Scrivener, Frederick Henry.= 181 Biblical scholar. Author of a
Plain Introduction to the Criticism of the New Testament, and editor
of a Greek Testament, The Cambridge Paragraph Bible, etc. _Pub. Ho._
=Sedley, Sir Chas.= 1639-1701. Lyric and dramatic poet. S. wrote the
comedy of The Mulberry Garden. _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 2._
=Seeley, John Robert.= 183 Author Ecce <DW25>, Lect. and Essays,
Roman Imperialism, etc. Style clear and strong. _See Myers's Essays,
Modern._ _Pub. Mac. Rob._
=Selden, John.= 1584-1654. Antiquarian. Author Titles of Honor, Hist.
of Titles, etc. A man of wide learning, whose Table-Talk is his best
known work. _See Lives, by Wilkins, 1726, Aiken, 1773, and Johnson,
1835._
=Selwyn, Geo. Augustus.= 1809-1878. Bp. Lichfield. Author Tribal
Analysis of the Bible, Are Cathedral Institutions Useless? etc. _Pub.
Mac._
=Senior, Nassau Wm.= 1790-1864. Political economist. Author Lect. on
Population, Essays on Fiction, etc.
=Settle, Elkanah.= 1648-1724. Dramatist. A writer of trifling merit
but the rival of Dryden in his time.
=Seward, Anna.= 1747-1809. Poet. Although called in her day "the Swan
of Lichfield," her verse is weakly sentimental and commonplace.
=Sewell, Elizabeth Missing.= 181 Poet and novelist. Author Amy
Herbert, Margaret Percival, etc. A writer of excellent stories, which
have a strong High Church flavor. _Pub. Apl. Dut. Har. Ho._
=Sewell, Wm.= 1805-1874. Religious writer. Bro. to E. M. S. Author of
Christian Morals, etc.
=Shadwell, Thos.= 1640-1692. Dramatist. Author of 17 plays, but
chiefly remembered as the butt of Dryden's satire MacFlecknoe.
=Shaftesbury, 3d Earl of.= See Cooper, Anthony Ashley.
=Shairp, John Campbell.= 181 Scotch essayist. Author Culture and
Religion, Aspects of Poetry, Studies in Poetry and Philosophy, Poetic
Interpretation of Nature, Burns, in Eng. Men of Letters, etc. _Pub.
Har. Hou._
=Shakespeare, Wm.= 1564-1616. The world's greatest dramatist. Author
of 37 plays, in two of which, Henry VIII. and Two Noble Kinsmen,
Fletcher is supposed to have had a hand. The others are King John,
Richard II., Richard III., the two parts of Henry IV., Henry V., the
three parts of Henry VI., all historical plays; the tragedies, Hamlet,
Macbeth, Othello, Lear, Antony and Cleopatra, Timon of Athens,
Coriolanus, Julius Caesar, Romeo and Juliet, and Troilus and Cressida;
and the comedies, or tragi-comedies, Midsummer Night's Dream, Comedy
of Errors, Love's Labor's Lost, Taming of the Shrew, Two Gentlemen of
Verona, Merchant of Venice, All's Well that Ends Well, Much Ado About
Nothing, As You Like It, Merry Wives of Windsor, Measure for Measure,
Winter's Tale, Tempest, Twelfth Night, Pericles, and Cymbeline. S. was
also the author of the poems Lucrece, Venus and Adonis, and 154
Sonnets. No writings, save the Scriptures, have ever moved the world
like those of Shakespeare, which appeal to every emotion in the mind
of man. He has no equals; there are none with whom he may be compared.
_Among the best complete Am. editions are White's Riverside_, _pub.
Hou._; _Rolfe's_, _pub. Har._; _and Hudson's_, _pub. Gi._ _See also
Furness's Variorum Macbeth, Lear, Hamlet, and Romeo and Juliet_, _pub.
Lip._
=Sharpe, Samuel.= 180 Historian. Author Hist. Egypt, Hist.
Hebrew Nation and Lit., Texts from the Bible Explained by Ancient
Monuments, etc.
=Sheffield, John, Duke of Buckingham.= 1649-1720. Author Essay on
Poetry, a poem in heroic measure, polished and prosaic.
=Sheil [sheel], Richard Lalor.= 1791-1851. Irish dramatist. Author
Evadne, The Apostate, Sketches of the Irish Bar, etc. _See
Biographies, by McNevin, 1845, and McCulloch, 1855._ _Pub. Arm._
=Shelley, Mrs. Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin.= 1797-1851. Novelist. Wife
to P. B. S. Author Frankenstein, a repulsive but powerful romance,
Valperga, Perkin Warbeck, etc.
=Shelley, Percy Bysshe [b[)i]sh].= 1792-1822. Poet. An imaginative
genius of the highest order. Author of Queen Mab, Prometheus Unbound,
Alastor, The Cenci, etc. Some of his best work is seen in the Adonais,
an elegy upon Keats, and the Ode to a Skylark, while all his poems
possess an ethereal beauty quite unlike anything else in literature.
_See Atlantic Monthly, Feb. 1863, Macmillan's Mag. June, 1861, Shelley
and his Writings, by C. S. Middleton, Symonds' Shelley, in Eng. Men.
of Letters, and Swinburne's Essays and Studies._ _Pub. Lit. Mac. Por.
Rou._
=Shenstone, Wm.= 1714-1763. Pastoral poet. Author of The
Schoolmistress, a poem in Spenserian stanza, and of pastoral ballads.
_See Gilfillan's edition of, Edinburgh, 1854._ _See Ward's Eng. Poets,
vol. 3._
=Sheridan, Mrs. Frances.= 1724-1766. Novelist and dramatist. Wife to
T. S.
=Sheridan, Richard Brinsley.= 1751-1816. Irish dramatist. Son to F. S.
and T. S. A sparkling, witty writer. Author of The Duenna, an opera,
The Critic, a farce, and The Rivals and School for Scandal, two of the
best comedies in the Eng. language. _See Works, edited by J. B.
Browne, 1873, and F. Stainforth, 1874; also edition of 1883, with
Introduction, by R. G. White._ _See Life of, by Moore, Atlantic
Monthly, Oct. 1883, and Sheridan, by Mrs. Oliphant, in Eng. Men. of
Letters._ _Pub. Do. Rou._
=Sheridan, Thomas.= 1721-1788. Irish lexicographer. Author Dict. Eng.
Lang., etc.
=Sherlock, Wm.= 1678-1761. Bp. London. Theologian of note.
=Sherwood, Mrs. Mary Martha.= 1775-1851. Writer of an immense number
of religious tales, once very popular. Little Henry and his Bearer is
one of the best known. _See Life, 1874._ _Pub. Ca. Har. Wh._
=Shirley, James.= 1594-1666. Dramatist. The latest of the
Shakespearean dramatists. Better known than any of his 40 plays is the
noble poem Death's Final Conquest. _See Dyce's Life of, 1833, and
Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 2._
=Shorthouse, Joseph Henry.= 183 Novelist. Author of John
Inglesant and Little Schoolmaster Mark. _Pub. Mac._
=Sidgewick, Henry.= 183 Political economist. Author of The
Principles of Political Economy, The Methods of Ethics, Ethics in
Encyc. Britan., etc. A precise and impartial thinker. _Pub. Mac. Put._
=Sidney, Algernon.= 1622-1683. Political writer. Author Discourses on
Government, etc. _See Life, by Meadley, 1813._
=Sidney= or =Sydney, Sir Philip.= 1554-1586. Poet and prose writer.
Author of Sonnets, the prose romance Arcadia, and The Apologie for
Poetrie, with which latter work literary criticism may be said to
begin. _See Grosart's complete edition, 1877._ _See Ward's Eng. Poets,
vol. 1, Masson's Eng. Novelists, and Life, by Fox-Bourne, 1862._
=Simcox, Geo. Augustus.= 184 Poet and litterateur. Author
Prometheus Unbound, a tragedy, Poems and Romances, and a Hist. of
Latin Lit. _Pub. Har. Rou._
=Simpson, Sir James Young.= 1811-1870. Scotch medical writer of note.
_Pub. Apl. Lip._
=Simpson, Thomas.= 1710-1761. Mathematician. Author of a long series
of mathematical works.
=Simson, Robert.= 1687-1768. Scotch mathematician. Author of a noted
translation of Euclid.
=Sinclair, Mrs. Catherine.= 1800-1864. Scotch novelist. Author of
Beatrice, Modern Society, Jane Bouverie, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Singer, Samuel Weller.= 1783-1868. Shakespearean scholar. His edition
of Shakespeare appeared in 1826.
=Skeat [skeet], Walter Wm.= 183 Philologist. Editor of numerous
Early Eng. and Anglo-Saxon works, and author of an Etymological Dict.
of the Eng. Language. _Pub. Mac._
=Skelton, John.= c. 1460-1529. Poet. Author Why Come Ye Not to Court?
a fierce satire upon Wolsey, Colin Clout, and the Boke of Phyllype
Sparowe. His verse is rugged and harsh, but very powerful. _See Dyce's
edition, 1843, and Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 1._ _Pub. Hou._
=Skene, Wm. Forbes.= 180 Antiquarian. Author The Highlanders of
Scotland, Chronicles of the Picts and Scots, etc.
=Sketchley, Arthur.= See Rose, Geo.
=Skinner, John.= 1721-1807. Scotch poet. Tullochgorum is his most
noted poem. _See Poems of, with Memoir, 1859._
=Smart, Benj. Humphrey.= c. 1785-1872. Lexicographer. The chief of his
numerous works is a Pronouncing Dict., which first appeared in 1836.
=Smart, Christopher.= 1722-1770. Poet. Author of a noted satire called
The Hilliad and the famous Song to David. _See edition 1791._
=Smart, Hawley.= 18-- ----. Novelist. Author Breezie Langton, Bound to
Win, etc. _Pub. Apl._
=Smedley, Edward.= 1789-1836. Historian. Author Religio Clerici, Hist.
Reformed Religion in France, Hist. France, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Smedley, Francis Edward.= 1819-1865. Novelist. Author Frank
Fairleigh, Harry Coverdale's Courtship, etc. _Pub. Pet. Rou._
=Smedley, Menella Bute.= c. 1825-c. 1875. Poet. Sister to F. E. S.
Author of Nina, Twice Lost, and other prose tales. One of the finest
of her poems is The Little Fair Soul. _Pub. Rou._
=Smee, Alfred.= 181 Scientific writer of note. _Pub. Put._
=Smiles, Samuel.= 181 Scotch writer. Author Self Help, Thrift,
Life of a Scotch Naturalist, Life of Geo. Stephenson, etc. _Pub. Har.
Lip. Rou._
=Smith, Adam.= 1723-1790. Political economist. Author of The Wealth of
Nations, the theory of which is that labor is the source of wealth.
_See Lives by Brougham, Playfair, and Smellie._ _Pub. Mac. Put._
=Smith, Albert Richard.= 1816-1860. Novelist. Author Christopher
Tadpole, etc.
=Smith, Alexander.= 1830-1867. Scotch poet and essayist. Author Edwin
of Deira, Life Drama, City Poems, etc. His verse achieved a sudden but
brief popularity. It is brilliant, but uneven. His prose, of which A
Summer in Skye is the best example, is excellent. _See Life, by
Alexander, 1868, and Stedman's Victorian Poets._
=Smith, Mrs. Charlotte.= 1749-1806. Poet and novelist. Elegiac Sonnets
are her principal poems, and The Old Manor House is her best novel.
=Smith, George.= c. 1825-1876. Orientalist. Author of The Chaldean
Account of Genesis, Assyrian Discoveries, Records of the Past, etc.
_Pub. Scr._
=Smith, Goldwin.= 182 Miscellaneous writer. Author Lect. and
Essays, The Study of Hist., Three Eng. Statesmen, etc. _Pub. Har.
Mac._
=Smith, Horace.= 1779-1849. Poet and novelist. Author of the noted
poem Address to a Mummy, of five of the Rejected Addresses published
by Horace and James Smith, and of several novels,--The Moneyed Man,
Brambletye House, etc. _Pub. Har. Ho. Put._
=Smith, Isaac Gregory.= 182 Religious writer. Author
Characteristics of Christian Morality, etc. _Pub. Dut._
=Smith, James.= 1775-1839. Poet and critic. Bro. to H. S. Author of
five of the travesties in Rejected Addresses, viz., those on
Wordsworth, Cobbett, Southey, Coleridge, and Crabbe. _See Memoirs of,
by Horace Smith, 1840._ _Pub. Ho. Put._
=Smith, James.= 182 Scotch poet and novelist.
=Smith, John Pye.= 1775-1851. Theologian. Author Letters to Belsham,
etc.
=Smith, Robert Payne.= 181 Religious writer. Author Bampton
Lect., 1869, etc. _Pub. Mac._
=Smith, Sarah=, "Hesba Stretton." 18-- ----. Novelist. Author Bede's
Charity, Through A Needle's Eye, and other excellent novels. _Pub. Do.
Rou._
=Smith, Sydney.= 1771-1845. Essayist and humorist. Author of the
Plymley Letters, etc. A perfect master of an intensely amusing and
sarcastic style of reasoning. _See Duyckinck's Wit and Wisdom of
Sydney Smith._ _Pub. Apl. Har. Rou._
=Smith, Thos. Southwood.= 1788-1861. Medical writer of note. Author
Philosophy of Health, The use of the Dead to the Living, etc. _Pub.
Clx. Lip._
=Smith, Wm.= 1769-1839. Geological writer of eminence. _See Life, by
Phillips, 1844._
=Smith, Wm.= 181 Classical lexicographer. Author Dict. Greek and
Roman Antiquities, Dict. of the Bible, etc. _Pub. Apl. Est. Har. Hou.
Lit. Por._
=Smith, Wm. Robertson.= 184 Scotch theologian of note. Author of
The Old Testament in the Jewish Church, etc. _Pub. Apl._
=Smollett, Tobias George.= 1721-1771. Author of Roderick Random;
Peregrine Pickle, Count Fathom, Humphrey Clinker, etc., novels whose
coarseness is scarcely atoned for by their wit and vivacity. _See
Complete Works, 1872._ _See Thackeray's Eng. Humorists and Masson's
Novelists and Their Styles._ _Pub. Har. Rou._
=Smyth, Chas. Piazzi.= c. 182 Egyptologist. Son to W. H. S.
Author Our Inheritance in the Gt. Pyramid, Life and Work at the Gt.
Pyramid, etc. An ingenious but somewhat fanciful thinker. _Pub. Est.
Rou. Scr._
=Smyth, Wm. Henry.= 1788-1865. Hydrographer. Author of a noted work on
the physical geography of the Mediterranean. _Pub. Mac._
=Smythe, Geo. Sydney, Viscount Strangford.= 1818-1857. Novelist.
Author of Historic Fancies and Angela Pisani.
=Somers, Lord John.= 1651-1716. Jurist. Author of the noted "Somers
Tracts." _See Walter Scott's edition, 13 vols. 4to, 1815._ _See
Campbell's Lives of the Chancellors._
=Somerville, Mrs. Mary.= 1780-1872. Scotch astronomer. Author
Mechanism of the Heavens, Connection of the Physical Sciences,
Physical Geography, etc. _See Personal Recollections, by Mrs.
Somerville, 1873._ _Pub. Har. Rob. Sh._
=Somerville, Wm.= 1682-1742. Poet. Author of The Chase, etc. _See
Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 3._
=Sotheby [s[)u]th'[e^]-b[)i]], Wm.= 1757-1833. A fine translation of
Wieland's Oberon is his best known work.
=South, Robert.= 1633-1716. A witty theologian, whose Sermons possess
vitality and are still read. _Pub. Dut. Hou._
=Southern [s[)u]th'ern], Thos.= 1660-1746. Irish dramatist. Author
Oroonoko, The Fatal Dowry, etc. His plays were once very popular and
show great power.
=Southey [sowth'[)i]], Mrs. Caroline Anne [Bowles].= 1787-1854. Poet.
Wife to R. S. Author of The Young Gray Head, The Pauper's Death Bed,
etc. Style harmonious and pathetic. _Pub. Rou._
=Southey, Robert.= 1774-1843. Poet and essayist. Author of Thalaba,
Curse of Kehama, Roderick, Madoc, etc. As a whole his verse is a good
deal like prose, but prose of an excellent quality. The Doctor is one
of his most noted prose works. _See Life, by C. T. Browne, and
Dowden's Southey, in Eng. Men of Letters._ _Pub. Apl. Har. Hou. Rou._
=Southwell, Robert.= 1560-1595. Poet. Content and Rich and Times go by
Turns are among his best poems. His verse has much quiet beauty. _See
MacDonald's England's Antiphon and Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 1._
=Spedding, James.= 1808-1881. Baconian scholar. Editor Lord Bacon's
works, author Life and Letters of Bacon, Reviews and Discussions,
Evenings with a Reviewer, etc. _Pub. Hou._
=Speed, John.= 1552-1629. Antiquary. Hist. Great Britain, etc.
=Spelman, Sir Henry.= 1562-1641. Antiquary. Author Hist. Eng.
Councils, Glossarium Archaeologicum, etc.
=Spencer, Herbert.= 182 Philosopher. Author Social Statics,
Principles of Psychology, Study of Sociology, Education, Descriptive
Sociology, etc. _Pub. Apl._
=Spencer, Wm. Robert.= 1770-1834. Poet. Beth-Gelert is his best known
poem.
=Spenser, Edmund.= 1552-1599. Poet. Shepherd's Calendar, Mother
Hubbard's Tale, Amoretti, Epithalamion, and Prothalamion are the best
of his minor poems. The Faerie Queene, an allegory in 6 books, is his
greatest work, the interest of which lies not in the poem as a
narration, but in its symbolic representation of the soul at war with
evil. _See Todd's Variorum edition, and editions by Payne Collier,
1862, and Morris, 1869._ _See Craik's Spenser and his Poetry, Morley's
Library Eng. Lit., and Church's Spenser, in Eng. Men of Letters._
_Pub. Mac. Hou._
=Spottswood= or =Spottiswoode, John=. 1565-1639. Abp. St. Andrew's.
Ecclesiastical historian. Author Hist. Church of Scotland, etc. _See
Russell's edition, 1851._
=Sprat, Thos.= 1636-1713. Bp. Rochester. Theologian. Author Hist.
Royal Society, Life of Cowley, Poems, Sermons, etc.
=Spurgeon, Chas. Haddon.= 183 Author several vols. of Sermons,
John Ploughman's Talks, etc. _Pub. Ca. Scr. Sh._
=Stanhope, Philip Dormer, Earl of Chesterfield.= 1694-1773. Author of
the celebrated Letters to his Son, Philip Stanhope, the morality of
which has been much debated. Style polished and able.
=Stanhope, Philip Henry, Lord Mahon.= 1805-1875. Author Hist. of
England, Hist. War of the Spanish Succession, etc. _Pub. Lit._
=Stanley, Arthur Penrhyn.= 1815-1881. Theologian. Author Lect. on the
Jewish Church, Lect. on the Eastern Church, Christian Institutions,
Life of Dr. Arnold, etc. A writer of much vigor and strength, whose
wide sympathies are clearly shown in his works. _See Century Mag. Jan.
1883, and Myers's Essays Modern._ _Pub. Arm. Dut. Har. Mac. Scr._
=Stanley, Thomas.= 1625-1678. Poet. Beside a vol. of quaint verse S.
wrote a Hist. of Philosophy.
=Staunton [staen't[o^]n], Howard.= 1810-1874. Shakespearean scholar.
His library edition of Shakespeare appeared in 1863. _Pub. Rou._
=Steele, Sir Richard.= 1671-1729. Essayist. S. began the periodical
Essay by The Tatler in 1709, and wrote afterwards with Addison in The
Spectator and The Guardian. Author also of The Christian Hero. _See
Thackeray's Eng. Humorists._
=Steevens, George.= 1736-1800. Shakespearean scholar. S. edited with
Dr. Johnson the edition of 1773, and with Isaac Reed those of 1785 and
1793.
=Stephen, Sir James.= 1789-1859. Historian and essayist. Author Essays
in Eccl. Biography, Lect. on Hist. of France, etc. _See Life, by his
son, 1860._ _Pub. Har._
=Stephen, Sir James Fitzjames.= 182 Jurist. Son to preceding.
Author General View of the Criminal Law of England, Essays by a
Barrister, etc. _Pub. Mac. Th._
=Stephen, Leslie.= 183 Litterateur. Neph. to Sir J. S. Author of
a brilliant Hist. Eng., Thought in the Eighteenth Cent., Science of
Ethics, Hours in a Library, and Pope, Johnson, and Swift, in Eng. Men
of Letters. _Pub. Har. Scr._
=Stephenson, Mrs. Eliza [Tabor].= 183 Novelist. Author St.
Olave's, Jeanie's Quiet Life, The Blue Ribbon, Meta's Faith, The
Senior Songman, etc. St. Olave's, her best work, has been very
popular. _Pub. Har._
=Sterling, John.= 1806-1844. Poet and critic. _See Lives, by Hare,
1848, T. Carlyle, 1851; also, Caroline Fox's Memories of Old Friends._
=Sterne, Lawrence.= 1713-1768. Humorist. Author of Tristram Shandy and
The Sentimental Journey, two rambling, fantastic books, with a slender
thread of story in each. The quaintness is affected, and the humor
sometimes obscure, but the character drawing is inimitable. _See Life,
by Fitzgerald, Taine's Eng. Lit., Masson's Eng. Novelists and Their
Styles, and H. D. Traill's Sterne, in Eng. Men of Letters._ _Pub. Clx.
Lip. Rou._
=Sternhold, Thos.= c. 1500-1549. Associate with Hopkins in a metrical
version of the Psalms.
=Stevenson, John Hall.= 1718-1785. Poet. Author Crazy Hall Tales, etc.
=Stevenson, Robert Louis.= 18-- ----. Author of Travels with a Donkey
in the Cevennes, An Inland Voyage, The New Arabian Nights, etc. _Pub.
Rob._
=Stewart, Dugald.= 1753-1828. Scotch metaphysician. Author
Philosophical Essays, Philosophy of the Active and Moral Powers, etc.
=Still, John.= 1543-1607. Bp. Bath and Wells. To him has been
doubtfully attributed the comedy Gammer Gurton's Needle, one of the
very earliest English plays. _See Dodsley's Old Plays._
=Stillingfleet, Edward.= 1635-1699. Bp. Worcester. Controversial
writer of note. _Pub. Mac._
=Stirling, Earl of.= See Alexander, Wm.
=Stirling, Sir Wm. Maxwell.= See Maxwell Stirling.
=Stormonth, James.= 1825-1882. Scotch lexicographer. Author Dict. of
Scientific Terms, Etymological Dict., etc.
=Stoughton, John.= 18-- ----. Religious historian. Author Hist. of
Religion in England from the Opening of the Long Parliament to the End
of the Eighteenth Cent., and Introduction to Historical Theology.
_Pub. Arm. Phi._
=Stow, John.= 1525-1605. Chronicler.
=Strangford, Viscount.= See Smythe, G. S.
=Street, Geo. Edmund.= 1824-1881. Gothic architect. Author The Brick
and Marble in the Middle Ages, Gothic Architecture in Spain, etc. _See
The Biograph, Aug. 1880._
=Stretton, Hesba.= See Smith, Sarah.
=Strickland, Agnes.= 1796-1874. Historical writer. Author Lives of the
Queens of England, Lives of the Queens of Scotland, Lives of the Seven
Bishops, etc. _Pub. Har. La. Lip. Por._
=Strutt, Joseph.= 1742-1802. Antiquarian. Author Sports and Pastimes
of the People of England, Biographical Hist. of Engravers, etc. _Pub.
Rou._
=Strype, John.= 1643-1737. Historian. Author Annals of the
Reformation, Life of Cranmer, etc.
=Stuart, Gilbert.= 1742-1786. Historian. Author View of Society in
Europe, Hist. of Scotland, etc. An accurate but prejudiced writer.
=Stubbs, Wm.= 182 Historian. Author of The Constitutional Hist.
of England, The Early Plantagenets, etc. _Pub. Est. Mac._
=Stukely, Wm.= 1687-1765. Antiquarian writer.
=Suckling, Sir John.= 1609-1641. Of his gay, airy verse, the Ballad
upon a Wedding is most widely known. _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 2._
=Sugden, Edward B., Baron St. Leonards.= 1781-1875. Jurist of high
rank. Author Handy Book on Property Law, etc. _Pub. Jo._
=Sumner, John Bird.= 1780-1862. Abp. Canterbury. Religious writer.
Author Practical Reflections, etc.
=Surrey, Earl of.= See Howard, Henry.
=Swain, Charles.= 1803-1874. Poet. His verse is pleasing, but has
little strength. _Pub. Rob._
=Swift, Jonathan.= 1667-1745. Irish satirist. Author Battle of the
Books, Tale of a Tub, Drapier's Letters, Gulliver's Travels, etc.
Style coarse, bitterly savage and personal, but of great vigor,
keenness, and force. _See Lives, by T. Sheridan and Forster; also,
Taine's Eng. Lit., Thackeray's Eng. Humorists, Leslie Stephen's Swift,
in Eng. Men of Letters, and Masson's Novelists._ _Pub. Hou._
=Swinburne, Algernon Charles.= 183 Poet and critic. Author of
Atalanta in Calydon, Song of Italy, Chastelard, Mary Stuart, Bothwell,
Tristram, etc. Tristram is the finest of his long poems, and A Child's
Song in Winter one of the best of the minor ones. His verse shows
wonderful melody and perfect mastery of metre even when most obscure,
and abounds in vivid and exquisite descriptions. _See Stedman's
Victorian Poets and Lowell's My Study Windows._ _Pub. Ho._
=Sylvester, Joshua.= 1563-1618. Poet. Translator of the French poet Du
Bartas, and known in his day as Silver-Tongued Sylvester.
=Symonds, John Addington.= 184 Poet and critic. Author Hist. of
the Renaissance in Italy, Studies of the Greek Poets, Sketches and
Studies in Southern Europe, Italian Byways, etc., and two vols. of
poems, entitled New and Old and Many Moods. _Pub. Har. Ho. Os._
=Tabor, Eliza.= See Stephenson, Mrs.
=Tait, Archibald Campbell.= 1811-1882. Abp. Canterbury. Theologian.
Author Dangers and Safeguards of Modern Theology, etc. _Pub. Mac._
=Talfourd [tawl'furd], Sir Thomas Noon.= 1795-1854. Dramatic poet.
Author of The Athenian Captive, Glencoe, The Castilian, etc., but
chiefly known by his fine tragedy Ion, and Final Memorials of Chas.
Lamb.
=Tannahill, Robert.= 1774-1810. Scotch poet. His lyrics possess a
sweetness like those of Burns. Braes of Balquither and The Flower of
Dumblane are familiar examples. _See Centenary edition, 1874._
=Tate, Nahum.= 1652-1715. Associate with Brady in a noted metrical
version of the Psalms, and author of several plays.
=Tautphoeus, Baroness.= 18-- ----. Novelist. Author of The Initials,
Quits, Cyrilla, At Odds, etc. _Pub. Ho. Lip._
=Taylor, Brook.= 1685-1731. Mathematician. Author Methods of Increment
and inventor of Taylor's Theorem.
=Taylor, Sir Henry.= 180 Dramatic poet. Author Edwin the Fair,
Philip Van Artavelde, Isaac Comnenus, etc. Philip Van Artavelde, his
finest work, ranks high in modern dramatic poetry. _See edition 1863._
_See Fortnightly Review, vol. 1, and The Biograph, vol. 2._ _Pub.
Lip._
=Taylor, Isaac.= 1787-1865. Miscellaneous writer. Author Elements of
Thought, The Spirit of Hebrew Poetry, The World of Mind, etc. _Pub.
Ca. Dut. Har. Mac._
=Taylor, Jane.= 1783-1824. Moral and religious writer. Sister to I. T.
Author with her sister Ann of Hymns for Infant Minds, etc. _Pub. Ca.
Har. Por. Rou._
=Taylor, Jeremy.= 1613-1667. Bp. Down and Connor. Theologian. His best
works are Sermons, The Great Exemplar, and Holy Living and Holy
Dying. His warmth of imagination and poetic fervor render his prose
both musical and eloquent, while his long, involved sentences are
managed with the rarest skill. _See Heber's edition, 15 vols., 1820._
_See Life, by Wilmott, 1847._ _Pub. Ca. Clx. Dut. Lip._
=Taylor, John.= 1580-1654. Poet. Called the Water Poet. A voluminous
writer but one of little interest to modern readers.
=Taylor, Robert.= fl. c. 1600. Dramatist. Author of The Hog hath Lost
his Pearl, etc.
=Taylor, Thomas.= 1758-1835. Philosophical writer. Known as the
Platonist.
=Taylor, Tom.= 1817-1880. Dramatist. Of his many excellent plays, The
Ticket-of-Leave Man is the most popular. _See Eclectic Mag. Oct.
1880._
=Taylor, Wm.= 1765-1836. His translations of Goethe, Schiller, and
Lessing promoted greatly the study of German literature in England.
=Temple, Frederick.= 182 Bp. Exeter. Theologian of the Broad
Church school. Author Sermons in Rugby School, etc. _Pub. Mac._
=Temple, Sir Wm.= 1628-1699. Philosophical essayist. _The best edition
of his works is 4 vols. 8vo, London, 1814._
=Tennant, Wm.= 1774-1848. Scotch poet. Author of the humorous,
mock-heroic poem, Auster Fair, etc. _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 4._
=Tennent, Sir James.= See Emerson-Tennent.
=Tennyson, Alfred.= 180 Poet Laureate. In Memoriam, Idyls of the
King, The Princess, Maud, and Enoch Arden, with the dramas Harold and
Queen Mary, comprise his longest poems. Among the finest of the
shorter ones are [OE]none, Ulysses, The Talking Oak, Lotus Eaters,
Lady of Shalott, The Gardener's Daughter, The Revenge, and Locksley
Hall, and of the brief songs, Tears, Idle Tears, and Late, so Late.
The poetry of T., taken as a whole, represents the highest water mark
of the non-dramatic poetry of the English-speaking world. In it is
united a perfect mastery of words and metre with a widely cultured,
thoughtful imagination. _See Hutton's Essays, Stedman's Victorian
Poets, Buchanan's Master Spirits, Tavish's Studies in Tennyson,
Gatty's Study of In Memoriam, Genung's Study of In Memoriam, Atlantic
Monthly, Sept. 1879._ _Pub. Har. Hou. Os._
=Tennyson-Turner, Chas.= 1808?-1881. Poet. Bro. to A. Tennyson. Style
delicate and meditative. His Sonnets have been greatly praised. _See
Living Age, Dec. 31, 1881._
=Tennyson, Frederick.= 180 Poet. Bro. to two preceding. Author
Days and Hours, etc. Style artistic and elegant. The Blackbird is one
of his best poems. _See Stedman's Victorian Poets._
=Thackeray-Ritchie, Mrs. Anne Isabella.= 184 Dau. to W. M. T.
Novelist. Author of Miss Angel, Old Kensington, Village on the Cliff,
etc. Style quiet, picturesque, and refined. _Pub. Har._
=Thackeray, Wm. Makepeace.= 1811-1863. Novelist. Author of Vanity
Fair, Newcomes, Pendennis, Virginians, Henry Esmond, Philip, Denis
Duval, Hoggarty Diamond, Barry Lyndon, etc. Of these Esmond must rank
highest as a piece of literary art. His style presents a union of the
satirical and the humorous, the cynical and the kindly, which
perplexes some readers, but is almost always an example of excellent
English. The End of the Play and Bouillebaisse are his two best poems.
_See_ _Hannay's Studies on Thackeray in Every Saturday, vol. 6, Old
Series, Shepard's Pen Pictures of Modern Authors, Rideing's Stray
Moments with Thackeray, and Taylor's Thackeray the Humorist._ _Pub.
Har. Ho. Lip._
=Theobald [thee-o-bawld, or t[)i]b'bald], Lewis.= 1688-1744. Dramatist
and Shakespearean editor. His edition of Shakespeare appeared in 1733,
and is of great merit. T. was savagely and unjustly satirized by Pope
in the Dunciad.
=Thirlwall, Connop.= 1797-1875. Bp. St. David's. Historian. Author of
a valuable Hist. of Greece _Pub. Har. Rob._
=Thomas, Annie.= See Cudlip, Mrs. Pender.
=Thoms, Wm. John.= 180 Antiquarian writer.
=Thomson, James.= 1700-1748. Scotch poet. Author of The Seasons,
Castle of Indolence, etc. His style is somewhat heavy, but his feeling
for nature is genuine and his descriptions are fine. _See Lives, by
Buchan, Gilfillan, and Bell; also, Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 3._ _Pub.
Apl. Clx. Hou._
=Thomson, James. 1834-1882. Scotch poet. Author of a sombre but=
striking poem, The City of Dreadful Night. _See To-day, July, 1883,
and Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 4, 2d edition._
=Thomson, Mrs. Katharine.= 1800-1862. Historical writer.
=Thomson, Wm.= 181 Abp. York. Religious writer.
=Thornbury, Geo. Walter.= 1828-1876. Novelist and poet. Author Life of
Turner, True as Steel, Greatheart, etc. Culloden and The Jester's
Sermon are among his best poems. Style spirited and strong. _See
Stedman's Victorian Poets._ _Pub. Ho._
=Thornton, Bonnell.= 1724-1768. Dramatist and translator.
=Thornton, Wm. Thomas.= 181 Political economist. Author
Over-Population and its Remedy, Plea for Peasant Proprietors, On
Labor, Old-Fashioned Ethics and Common-Sense Metaphysics, Poems, etc.
_Pub. Mac._
=Thorold, Anthony Wilson.= 18-- ----. Bp. Rochester. Religious writer.
Author The Presence of Christ, The Threshold of Private Devotions,
etc. _Pub. Ran._
=Thrale, Mrs.= See Piozzi, Mrs.
=Thurlow, Lord Edward Hovell.= 1781-1829. Poet. Author Ariadne, etc.
=Tickell, Richard.= ---- 1793. Humorist. Author of The Anticipation, an
amusing forecast of the debates in the Parliament of 1778.
=Tickell, Thomas.= 1686-1740. Poet and essayist. Grandfather to R. T.
Author of a fine elegy upon Addison, the ballad of Colin and Lucy,
several papers in the Spectator, etc. _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 3._
_Pub Hou._
=Tighe [t[=i]], Mrs. Mary Blackford.= 1773-1810. Irish poet. Subject
of Moore's poem "I saw thy form in youthful prime," and author of
Psyche, a highly imaginative poem in Spenserian stanza.
=Tillotson, John.= 1630-1694. Abp. Cant. His Sermons, still
occasionally read, are sedate and solid in style.
=Timbs, John.= 1801-1875. Miscellaneous writer. Author
Anecdote-Biography, Curiosities of London, Club Life in London, etc.
_Pub. Har. Rou._
=Tindal, Matthew.= 1657-1733. Religious controversial writer.
=Tobin, John.= 1770-1804. Dramatist. Author, among other plays, of the
romantic, popular comedy The Honeymoon. _See Memoirs, by E. S. Benger,
1820._
=Todd, Henry John.= 1763-1845. Litterateur. Author Life of Cranmer,
Account of the Deans of Canterbury, etc., and editor of Spenser,
Milton, and Johnson's Dict.
=Tonna, Mrs. Charlotte Elizabeth= [Brown]. 1792-1846. Writer of moral
and religious tales. Known as an author by her signature Charlotte
Elizabeth.
=Tooke, John Horne.= See Horne-Tooke.
=Toplady, Augustus Montague.= 1740-1778. Theologian and hymn writer.
Chiefly known by the famous hymn Rock of Ages. _See Works, 1869._
=Tourneur, Cyril.= fl. c. 1600. Dramatist. Author The Atheist's
Tragedy, Revenger's Tragedy, etc. His plays show great power and
dramatic skill.
=Townley, James.= 1715-1788. Dramatist. Author of the witty farce High
Life Below Stairs, etc.
=Townshend [townz'end], Chauncey Hare.= 1798-1868. Poet and prose
writer. Author Sermons in Sonnets, Facts in Mesmerism, Mesmerism
Proved, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Trafford, F. G.= See Riddell, Mrs. C. E.
=Tregelles, Samuel Prideaux.= 1813-1875. Biblical scholar of note.
Author The Englishman's Greek Concordance to the New Testament, etc.
=Trelawney, Edward John.= 1792-1881. Novelist. Author Adventures of a
Younger Son, Recollections of the Last Days of Shelley and Byron, etc.
=Trench, Richard Chenevix.= 180 Abp. Dublin. Poet, philologist,
and theologian. Author Notes on the Miracles, Study of Words, English
Past and Present, Poems, etc. _See Myers's Essays Modern._ _Pub. Apl.
Arm. Mac. Scr._
=Trevelyan, George Otto.= 183 Miscellaneous writer. Author
Cawnpore, Life of Macaulay, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Trimmer, Mrs. Sarah.= 1741-1810. Miscellaneous writer. Author
Fabulous Histories, Abridgments of Scripture Hist., Sermons for Family
Reading, etc. _Pub. Rou._
=Trollope, Anthony.= 1815-1882. Novelist. Son to F. M. T. Author of a
very long list of excellent novels, the best of which are, He Knew he
was Right, Barchester Towers, Marion Fay, Doctor Thorne, and Framley
Parsonage. His stories are never dull; the current of the narrative
flows easily and the characters are well sketched, but the English is
sometimes a little careless. _See Autobiography; also, Blackwood's
Mag. Feb. 1883, Century Mag. July, 1883, and Princeton Review, July,
1883._ _Pub. Har. Lip. Mac. Pet. Por. Rou._
=Trollope, Edward.= 181 Bp. Nottingham. Archaeological and
architectural writer of note. Cousin to A. T. and T. A. T.
=Trollope, Mrs. Frances Eleanor= [Tiernan]. 18-- ----. Novelist. Wife
to T. A. T. Author of Aunt Margaret's Trouble, Anne Furness, Among
Aliens, Mabel's Progress, The Sacristan's Household, Veronica, etc.
_Pub. Har._
=Trollope, Mrs. Frances= [Milton]. 1778-1863. Novelist. Author
Domestic Manners among the Americans, Widow Barnaby, etc. A
voluminous, witty, but inartistic writer. _Pub. Har. Rou._
=Trollope, Thomas Adolphus.= 181 Novelist and historian. Son to
F. M. T. Author Lindisfarne Chase, Filippo Strozzi, La Beata, Hist.
Florentine Commonwealth, Life Pope Pius IX., The Papal Conclaves, etc.
_See "Eng. Authors in Florence," Atlantic Monthly, Dec. 1864._ _Pub.
Har. Mac. Pet._
=Tucker, Abraham.= 1705-1774. Metaphysician. Author of The Light of
Nature Pursued, published under the pseudonym Edward Search.
=Tucker, Charlotte.= "A. L. O. E." 183 Writer of religious
juvenile fiction. _Pub. Ca. Nel._
=Tulloch, John.= 182 Scotch theologian. Author Theism, Leaders
of the Reformation, Christ of the Gospels and Christ of Modern
Criticism, etc. _See The Biograph, vol. 3._ _Pub. Mac. Phi. Rou. Scr._
=Tupper, Martin Farquhar.= 181 Poet and prose writer. Author of
The Proverbial Philosophy, and other popular but exceedingly
commonplace poems. Some of his prose tales are excellent; of these
Crock of Gold is the best known. _Pub. Arm. Pet._
=Turberville, George.= 1530-c. 1595. Poet. Author Tragical Tales, etc.
=Turner, Chas. Tennyson.= See Tennyson-Turner.
=Turner, Dawson.= 1775-1858. Author Nat. Hist. of Sea Weeds, etc.
=Turner, Sharon.= 1768-1847. Historian. His chief works are Hist. of
England in the Middle Ages, Sacred Hist. of the World, and a valuable
Hist. of the Anglo-Saxons. _Pub. Har._
=Tusser, Thomas.= 1515-1580. Poet. Author of A Hondreth Good Points of
Husbandrie, expanded by later writers into Five Hundred Points of Good
Husbandrie. _See Mavor's edition, 1812._
=Tylor, Edward Burnett.= 183 Ethnologist. Author of Anahauc, or
Mexico and the Mexicans, Researches into the Early Hist. of Mankind,
Anthropology and Primitive Culture. A writer of thorough scientific
knowledge, possessing an admirable style. _Pub. Apl. Ho._
=Tyndale= or =Tindal, Wm.= 1477-1536. Translator of the New
Testament, 1525. Tyndale's version was afterwards revised by
Coverdale. _See Offor's Life of, 1836._
=Tyndall, John.= 182 Irish physicist. Author Glaciers of the
Alps, Heat as a Mode of Motion, Lect. on Light, On Radiation, etc.
_Pub. Apl._
=Tyrwhitt [t[)e]r'[)i]t], Thomas.= 1730-1786. Antiquary and Chaucerian
scholar. Editor of the works of Chaucer and Chatterton. A scholar of
singular insight, whose conjectures have nearly all been sustained by
texts of which he knew nothing.
=Tytler [t[=i]t'l[e^]r], Alex Fraser, Lord Woodhouselee.= 1747-1813.
Scotch historian. Son to Wm. T. Author Elements of Gen. Hist., Essay
on Military Law, etc. _Pub Clx. Har._
=Tytler, C. C. Fraser.= Great-niece to P. F. T. See Liddell, Mrs.
=Tytler, Patrick Fraser.= 1791-1849. Scotch historian and biographer.
Son to A. F. T. Author Scottish Worthies, etc., and a standard Hist.
of Scotland. _Pub. Har._
=Tytler, Sarah.= See Keddie, Henrietta.
=Tytler, Wm.= 1711-1792. Scotch historical and critical writer.
=Udall [yoo'd[)a]l], Nicholas.= 1506-1556. Dramatist. Author Ralph
Roister Doister, the first Eng. comedy. It is known to have been acted
before 1551. _See Arber's reprint._
=Upcott, Wm.= 1779-1845. Bibliographer of note.
=Urquhart [[^u]rk'[a^]rt], David.= 180 Scotch writer. Author
Turkey and its Resources, The Progress of Russia, the Pillars of
Hercules, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Usher or Ussher, James.= 1580-1656. Abp. Armagh. Chronologist.
Author Chronological Tables of Universal Hist. from the Creation to
Vespasian. The marginal dates in the authorized version of the Bible
are from Usher. _See Complete Works, 17 vols., Dublin, 1864._ _See
Life, by Aikin._
=Valpy, Abraham John.= 1787-1854. Shakespearean editor. His
illustrated Shakespeare, 15 vols., appeared in 1834.
=Vanbrugh [v[)a]n'broo], Sir John.= 1666-1726. Dramatist and
architect. Author of a dozen brilliant but coarse comedies, among
which The Relapse, Revoked Wife, The Confederacy, and Journey to
London are the best.
=Vaughan [vawn or vaw'[a^]n], Chas. James.= 181 Theologian.
Author Heroes of Faith, Epistles of St. Paul for Eng. Readers, etc. A
leader of Broad Church thought. _Pub. Dut. Mac. Phi. Rou._
=Vaughan, Henry.= 1621-1695. Poet. His verse is religious in
character, and is as frequently harsh in sound as quaint in form.
Silex Scintillans is the title of his principal work. _See Ward's Eng.
Poets, vol. 2, MacDonald's England's Antiphon, and Dr. John Brown's
Spare Hours, 1st Series._ _Pub. Hou._
=Vaughan, Robert.= 1795-1868. Miscellaneous writer. Author of
Congregationalism, the Age of Great Cities, Revolutions in English
Hist., etc.
=Vaughan, Robert Alfred.= 1823-1855. Son to R. V. Author Hours with
the Mystics, etc. _See Memoir by his father, 1858._
=Vaux [vawks], Thomas, Lord.= 1510-1557. Poet. Author of the
Grave-digger's song in Hamlet and the meditative poem Thought.
=Veitch, John.= 182 Scotch philosophical writer. Author Memoirs
of Dugald Stewart and Sir Wm. Hamilton, etc.
=Venn, Henry.= 1725-1797. Religious writer. Author Complete Duty of
Man, etc. _See Life, by Henry Venn, 1834._
=Vere, De, Sir Aubrey.= See De Vere, Sir Aubrey.
=Vere, De, Aubrey Thomas.= See De Vere, Aubrey.
=Vere, De, Edward, Earl of Oxford.= See De Vere, Edward.
=Villiers, George, Duke of Buckingham.= 1627-1688. Dramatist. Author
The Rehearsal and Battle of Sedgemoor.
=Viner [v[=i]'n[e^]r], Chas.= 1680-1756. Legal writer. Author Complete
Abridgment of Law and Equity.
=Wace, Maistre Richard.= c. 1120-1184. Anglo-Norman poet. Author of
the Brut d'Angleterre and the Roman de Rou: the first poem of 12,000
lines, the latter of 17,000.
=Waddington, George.= 1793-1869. Historian. Author Hist. of the
Church, Hist. Reformation on the Continent, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Wakefield, Gilbert.= 1756-1801. Theological and classical writer. His
annotated edition of Lucretius is one of his chief works.
=Wakefield, Mrs. Priscilla.= 1751-1832. Miscellaneous writer.
=Walcott, Mackenzie Edward Chas.= 182 Archaeologist. Author
Sacred Archaeology. Cathedral Cities of England and Wales, Memorials of
Canterbury, etc.
=Walford, Edward.= 182 Litterateur. Author Handbook of the Greek
Drama, etc. _See The Biograph, vol. 1._
=Walford, Mrs. Lucy Bethia= [Colquhoun]. 184 Novelist. Author
Mr. Smith, Pauline, Cousins, Troublesome Daughters, Dick Netherby,
etc. _Pub. Ho._
=Walker, John.= 1732-1807. Lexicographer. His Dict. of the English
Language appeared in 1775.
=Wallace, Alfred Russel.= 182 Naturalist. Author Travels on the
Amazon, The Malay Archipelago, Geographical Distribution of Animals,
etc. Independently of Darwin, W. originated a theory of natural
selection. _Pub. Har. Mac._
=Wallace, Donald Mackenzie.= 184 Traveler. Author of Russia,
etc. _Pub. Ho._
=Waller, Edmund.= 1605-1687. Poet. Go, Lovely Rose, On a Girdle, and
Old Age and Death are some of his best poems. _See Bell's edition,
1866._ _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 2._
=Waller, John Francis.= 181 Poet and prose writer. Author Poems,
The Slingsby Papers, etc., and editor of the Imperial Dict. of
Universal Biography. _Pub. Cas._
=Wallis, John.= 1616-1703. Mathematician. Author numerous works on
algebra, geometry, etc.
=Walpole [w[)o]l'pol], Horace.= 1717-1797. Miscellaneous writer.
Author Castle of Otranto, a sensational romance, The Mysterious
Mother, a tragedy, Historic Doubts concerning Richard III., etc. A
brilliant but superficial writer. _See Memoirs of, 1851; also, Living
Age, vol. 13, "Strawberry Hill."_
=Walter, John.= 1739-1812. Journalist. Founder of the London Times,
1788.
=Walton, Brian.= 1600-1661. Bp. Chester. Editor of the London
Polyglott Bible. _See Life, by Todd, 1821._
=Walton, Izaak.= 1593-1683. Biographer and angler. The Complete
Angler, his chief work, is a book of much quiet beauty. _Pub. Lit._
=Warburton, Eliot Bartholomew Geo.= 1810-1852. Irish novelist and
miscellaneous writer. Author The Crescent and the Cross, Prince
Rupert and the Cavaliers, etc.
=Warburton, George.= ---- 1857. Bro. to E. B. G. W. Author Conquest of
Canada, Hochelaga, etc. _Pub. Har._
=Warburton, Wm.= 1698-1779. Bp. Gloucester. A learned and brilliant
but arrogant author. He wrote The Divine Legation of Moses, and
published an edition of Shakespeare in 1747. _See Life, by Watson,
1863, and Quarterly Rev. June, 1812._
=Ward, Robert Plumer.= 1765-1846. Novelist. Author Tremaine, De Vere,
De Clifford, and Chatsworth; metaphysical, philosophical, and
political narratives. _See Memoirs, 1850._ _Pub. Har._
=Waring, Anna L.= 18-- ----. Welsh poet. Author of Hymns and
Meditations. _Pub. Dut._
=Warner, Ferdinando.= 1703-1768. Historian. Author Eccl. Hist.
England, Hist. Ireland, etc.
=Warner, Wm.= 1558-1609. Poet. Author of Albion's England, a hist. of
England from the Deluge to Elizabeth, containing 10,000 14-syllable
lines. It is humorous, spirited, and even pathetic in places. _See
Craik's Eng. Lit., vol. 1, and Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 1._
=Warren, John Leicester.= 18-- ----. Poet. Author Philoctetes,
Rehearsals, Orestes, Searching the Net, etc. _See Stedman's Victorian
Poets._ _Pub. Rou._
=Warren, Samuel.= 1807-1877. Novelist and physician. Author Diary of a
Physician, and the famous novel Ten Thousand a Year. _Pub. Har. Por._
=Warton, Joseph.= 1722-1800. Poet and critic. _See Biography, by Wool,
1806._
=Warton, Thomas.= 1728-1790. Poet and critic. Bro. to J. W. A
valuable Hist. Eng. Poetry is his chief prose work. _See Carew
Hazlitt's edition._ _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 3._ _Pub. Rou._
=Waterton, Charles.= 1782-1865. Naturalist. Author Essays on Nat.
Hist., etc. _Pub. Mac._
=Watson, Richard.= 1737-1816. Bp. Llandaff. Theologian. Author of
Apologies for Christianity and the Bible, etc. _See Autobiography,
1817._ _Pub Phi._
=Watson, Robert.= 1730-1780. Scotch historian. Author of a worthless
Hist. of Philip II.
=Watson, Thomas.= 1560-1592. Poet. His Sonnets have been much praised.
_See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 1._
=Watts, Alaric Alexander.= 1799-1864. Poet. Author Poetical Sketches,
Lyrics of the Heart, etc.
=Watts, Mrs. Anna Mary [Howitt].= 182 Artist and miscellaneous
writer. Author of The Art Student in Munich, Pioneers of Spiritualism,
containing Lives of Dr. Justinius Kerner and Wm. Howitt, written from
the psychological point of view, etc.
=Watts, Isaac.= 1674-1748. Religious poet. Author Psalms and Hymns,
etc. While some of his verse is hardly more than doggerel, he
sometimes rises to a lofty plane of expression. _See Life, by Milner,
1834._ _Pub. Ca. Hou. Rou._
=Waugh [waw], Edwin.= 181 Dialect poet. Author Lancashire Songs,
etc.
=Webster, Mrs. Augusta.= 184 Poet. Author Dramatic Studies,
Portraits, A Woman Sold, translations from Euripides, etc. Her verse
is strong and original in tone. _See Stedman's Victorian Poets._ _Pub.
Mac._
=Webster, John.= c. 1582-1638. Dramatist. Author of the tragedies of
The White Devil, Duchess of Malfy, Guise, Devil's Law Case, Appius
and Virginia, etc. W. is the greatest master of the terrible among
Eng. dramatists. _See Dyce's edition 1830, and Hazlitt's 1857._ _Pub.
Rou._
=Wesley, Chas.= 1708-1788. Hymn writer of note. _See Ward's Eng.
Poets, vol. 3._
=West, Gilbert.= 1705-1756. Theologian and poet. Translator of Pindar
and author of the able treatise Observations on the Resurrection.
=Westcott, Brooke Foss=. 182 Theologian. Author Hist. Canon of
the New Testament, Hist. of the Eng. Bible, The Bible and the Church,
etc. _Pub. Har. Mac._
=Westwood, Thos.= 181 Poet. Author Beads from a Rosary, Quest of
the Sancgreal, Berries and Blossoms, etc.
=Whately [hw[=a]t'l[)i]], Richard.= 1787-1863. Abp. Dublin. Essayist.
Author New Testament Difficulties, Political Economy, Logic and
Rhetoric, etc. A thinker of logical but unimaginative powers. _See
Life and Correspondence, edited by his daughter, 1864, and H.
Martineau's Biographical Sketches._ _Pub. Ca. Dra. Har. Sh._
=Whetstone, Geo.= fl. c. 1580. Dramatist. From his play Promos and
Cassandra Shakespeare has drawn the story of Measure for Measure.
=Whewell [h[=u]'[e)]l], Wm.= 1794-1866. Philosopher. Author Hist.
Inductive Sciences, Plurality of Worlds, Hist. Moral Philosophy in
England, Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences, etc. _Pub. Apl. Har._
=Whiston, Wm.= 1667-1752. Theologian and mathematician. Author of A
New Theory of the Earth, etc., and editor of Josephus. _Pub. Por._
=Whitaker, John.= 1735-1808. Historian. Author Hist. of Manchester,
Mary, Queen of Scots, Vindicated, etc.
=White, Gilbert.= 1720-1793. Author of the Naturalist's Calendar and
the delightful Nat. Hist. of Selborne. _See Buckland's edition,
London, 1875._ _See Fraser's Mag., March, 1879._ _Pub. Har. Mac. Rou._
=White, Henry.= 183 Archaeologist and religious writer. Author
Historical Memorials of the Savoy Conferences on Art and History, etc.
_See The Biograph, Aug. 1880._
=White, Henry Kirke.= 1785-1806. Poet. His verse is mediocre and
crude. _See Life, by Southey._ _Pub. Apl. Hou._
=White, James.= 1804-1862. Historical writer. Author Historical
Landmarks, The Eighteen Christian Centuries, Hist. of France, Hist. of
England, etc. _Pub. Apl. Rou._
=White, Joseph Blanco.= 1775-1841. Miscellaneous writer. His Sonnet on
Night is widely known and esteemed.
=Whitehead, Paul.= 1710-1774. Poet. Style witty and satirical.
=Whitehead, Wm.= 1715-1785. Poet. Of his seven indifferent dramas the
best are Creusa and The Roman Father. _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 3._
=Whitelocke, Bulstrode.= 1605-1676. Historical writer. His Memorials
of Eng. Affairs and other works are of much value.
=Wicklif, John.= 1324-1384. Reformer. Translator of the Bible. _See T.
Arnold's Select Eng. Works of 1871._ _See Biography, by Vaughan,
1853._ _Pub. Mac._
=Wilberforce, Robert Isaac.= 1802-1857. Theological writer. Son to W.
W.
=Wilberforce, Samuel.= 1805-1873. Bp. Oxford. Son to W. W. Author
Hist. P. E. Church in America, Sermons, Eucharistica, etc. _See Life,
1883._ _Pub. Ca. Dut._
=Wilberforce, Wm.= 1759-1833. Philanthropist. Author Practical View of
Christianity, etc. _See Life, by his sons, 5 vols., London, 1838;
also, Life, by John Stoughton._
=Wilde, Oscar.= 185 Irish poet. Charmides and Ave Imperatrix are
among his finest poems. His verse is musical, but frequently erotic.
_See The Biograph, Aug. 1880._ _Pub. Rob._
=Wilkie, Wm.= 1721-1772. Scotch poet. Author of The Epigoniad.
=Wilkins, John.= 1614-1672. Bp. Chester. Of his many works, the chief
is the Discovery of a New World, which attempts to prove the
feasibility of a passage from the earth to the moon.
=Wilkinson, Sir John Gardner.= 1797-1875. Egyptologist. Author Manners
and Customs of the Ancient Egyptians, Architecture of Ancient Egypt,
Modern Egypt, etc. _See Memoir, by his wife, 1876._ _Pub. Har. Lit._
=Wilkinson, John James Garth.= 181 Physician. Author Biography
of Swedenborg, The Human Body, The Ministry of Health, etc. _Pub.
Lip._
=Williams, Sir Chas. Hanbury.= 1709-1759. Satirist and poet.
=Williams, Helen Maria.= 1762-1827. Poet and political writer. Author
of the familiar hymn beginning "While Thee I seek, Protecting Power."
=Williams, Monier.= 181 Sanskrit scholar. Author Eng. and
Sanskrit Dict., and Sanskrit and Eng. Dict., etc. _Pub. Mac._
=Williams, Rowland.= 1817-1870. Welsh theologian. _See Life, by his
wife, 1874._
=Wills, Wm. Gorman.= 182 Dramatist and novelist. Eugene Aram,
Jane Shore, Charles I., and Mary Stuart are some of his plays. _Pub.
Har._
=Wills, Wm. Henry.= 1810-1880. Journalist and miscellaneous writer.
_Pub. Har._
=Wilmot, John, Earl of Rochester.= 1647-1680. Poet. A writer of
numerous gay, witty, but extremely licentious lyrics.
=Willmott, Robert Avis.= 1809-1863. Poet and biographer. Author Life
of Jeremy Taylor, and editor of Herbert, Gray, Cowper, etc. _Pub.
Rou._
=Wilson, Daniel.= 181 Miscellaneous writer. Author of
Prehistoric Annals of Scotland, Prehistoric Man, Caliban the Missing
Link, Chatterton: a Biographical Study, etc. _Pub. Mac._
=Wilson, George.= 1818-1859. Chemist and essayist. Author Five
Gateways to Knowledge, Life Prof. Forbes, etc. _See Memoir, by his
sister._ _Pub. Mac._
=Wilson, Horace Hayman.= 1788-1860. Sanskrit scholar. Author Hist.
Cashmere, translation of the Rig-Veda, etc.
=Wilson, John=, "Christopher North." 1785-1854. Poet and essayist.
Author of the poems The Isle of Palms and The City of the Plague, of
the stories Margaret Lyndsay and Lights and Shadows of Scottish Life,
and of the famous Noctes Ambrosianae. His style could be tender and
pathetic, but as a reviewer it was often coarse, prejudiced, and
brutal. _See Ferrier's edition, 12 vols._ _See Life, by Mrs. Gordon,
1862._ _Pub. Arm. Ca. Wid._
=Wilson, Sir Thomas.= 1523-1581. Author of The Art of Rhetoric, etc.
=Wilson, Wm.= 1801-1860. Scotch poet. _See Grant Wilson's Poets of
Scotland._
=Winchelsea, Countess Anne.= c. 1700-1720. Poet. Author of The
Nocturnal Reverie, etc. _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 3._
=Wingate, David.= 182 Scotch poet. Author Annie Weir, etc. _See
Grant Wilson's Poets of Scotland._
=Winkworth, Catherine.= 1825-1878. Hymnologist. Editor Hymns of the
Ages, Lyra Germanica, etc. _Pub. Mac._
=Winslow, Forbes Benignus.= 1810-1874. Physician. Author Physic and
Physicians, The Anatomy of Suicide, Lectures on Insanity, Obscure
Diseases of the Brain, etc.
=Wiseman, Nicholas, Cardinal.= 1802-1865. Miscellaneous writer. Author
works on religion, science, art, literature, etc.
=Wither, George.= 1588-1677. Poet. A voluminous writer, best known by
his Shepherd's Resolution and The Steadfast Shepherd. Style forcible
and original. _See Craik's Eng. Lit., vol. 2, and Ward's Eng. Poets,
vol. 2._
=Wolcott [w[)o]l'k[o^]t, or w[)oo]l'k[o^]t], John=, "Peter Pindar."
1738-1819. Poet. Author of numerous witty, satirical poems, as The
Lousiad, Bozzy and Piozzi, and the Lyric Odes of Peter Pindar, many of
which were in ridicule of George III.
=Wolfe, Charles.= 1791-1823. Irish poet. Author of the famous Lines on
the Burial of Sir John Moore. _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 4._
=Wollstonecraft, Mary.= See Godwin, Mrs. Mary.
=Wood, Anthony.= 1632-1695. Antiquary. Author Athenae Oxonienses, etc.
_See Rawlinson's Life, 1811._
=Wood, Mrs. Ellen [Price].= 182 Novelist. Of her many novels,
East Lynne is the most famous. Johnny Ludlow is one of her best books.
_Pub. Di. Pet._
=Wood, Mrs. Henry.= See Wood, Mrs. Ellen.
=Wood, John George.= 182 Naturalist. Author Homes without Hands,
Bible Animals, Common Objects of the Sea and Shore, etc. _Pub. Cas.
Har. Por. Rou._
=Woodhouselee, Lord.= See Tytler, A. F.
=Woolner, Thomas.= 182 Sculptor and poet. Author My Beautiful
Lady, etc. Style delicate and pure. _Pub. Mac._
=Worboise, Mrs. Emma Jane.= 182 Novelist. Author Helen Bury,
Lights and Shadows of Christian Life, Thornycroft Hall, etc. _Pub.
Rou._
=Wordsworth, Chas.= 180 Bp. St. Andrew's. Son to succeeding.
Neph. to W. W. Author Shakespeare's Knowledge and Use of the Bible,
The Bible in the Authorized Version with Notes and Introduction, etc.
_Pub. Dut. Mac._
=Wordsworth, Christopher.= 1774-1846. Bro. to W. W. Author Eccl.
Biography, etc.
=Wordsworth, Christopher.= 180 Bp. Lincoln. Son to preceding.
Author Hist. Church in Ireland, Memoirs Wm. Wordsworth, etc. _Pub.
Dut._
=Wordsworth, Wm.= 1770-1850. His poems number in all 485, including
the long poems, The Excursion, Peter Bell, White Doe, and the Prelude.
The best of his verse is contained in the Ode on Immortality, Tintern
Abbey, Ode to Duty, Laodamia, The Cuckoo, Lucy, and a few of the
Sonnets, some of which are nearly perfect of their kind. Much of his
verse contains little of real interest, but his best is poetry of the
very highest type. _See Grosart's complete edition, 1875._ _See Lives,
by Bp. Wordsworth, Phillips, and Paxton Hood; also, Myers's
Wordsworth, in Eng. Men of Letters, Masson's Essays, and Shairp's
Studies in Poetry._ _Pub. Hou. Mac. Por. Rou._
=Worsley, Philip Stanhope.= ---- 1866. Poet. Translator of the Iliad.
=Wotton, Sir Henry.= 1586-1639. Poet and miscellaneous writer. His
most familiar poem is the one beginning, "How happy is he born and
taught." _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 2._
=Wotton, Wm.= 1666-1726. Author of the Reflections upon Ancient and
Modern Learning, one of the original sources of the Boyle and Bentley
controversy.
=Wrangham, Francis.= 1769-1843. Poet and translator from the classics.
=Wraxall, Sir Fred'k Chas. Lascelles.= 1828-1865. Novelist. Author
Wild Oats, Camp Life, Memoirs Queen Hortense, etc.
=Wraxall, Sir Nathaniel.= 1751-1831. Historical writer. Author Memoirs
Kings of France, Hist. France, Historical Memoirs of my own Time, etc.
=Wright, Thomas.= 181 Archaeologist. Author Domestic Manners in
England in the Middle Ages, Wanderings of an Antiquary, Hist. of
Caricature and the Grotesque, Womankind in Western Europe, etc. _Pub.
Apl._
=Wright, Wm. Aldis.= 183 Shakespearean scholar. Co-editor with
Clark of the Cambridge Shakespeare, 9 vols., 1866, and of the Globe
Shakespeare.
=Wyatt, Sir Thomas.= 1503-1542. Poet. Author of love lyrics, one of
the finest being Forget not yet the Tried Intent. _See Poems with
Memoir, 1831._ _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 1._ _Pub. Hou._
=Wycherley [w[)i]tch-[e)]r-l[)i]], Wm.= 1640-1715. Dramatist. The
Country Wife and The Plain Dealer are the best of his plays, all of
which are witty, sprightly, and immoral. _See edition of 1831, with
Congreve, Farquhar, and Vanbrugh._ _Pub. Ron._
=Wyckliffe.= See Wiclif, John.
=Wynter, Andrew.= 1819-1876. Miscellaneous writer. Author Our Social
Bees, Curiosities of Civilization, Borderlands of Insanity, etc. _Pub.
Put._
=Yates, Edmund Hodgson.= 183 Novelist. Author Black Sheep, The
Yellow Flag, Kissing the Rod, Wrecked in Port, etc. _Pub. Apl. Har.
Rou._
=Yonge [y[)u]ng], Charles Duke.= 181 Historian. Author Hist.
British Navy, Hist. Eng. Revolution of 1688, Hist. France Under the
Bourbons, Three Centuries of Modern Hist., etc. _Pub. Apl. Har._
=Yonge, Charlotte Mary.= 182 Novelist. Cousin to C. D. Y. An
industrious writer, of whose 50 vols. more than 30 are fictions. The
Heir of Redclyffe is her most noted book; others are Heartsease, Hopes
and Fears, and The Daisy Chain. Her work is all careful, well
intentioned, and strongly High Church in character. _Pub. Apl. Dut.
Est. Har. Ho. Lip. Lo. Mac. Phi. Rob_.
=Youatt [yoo'[a)]t], Wm.= 1777-1847. Veterinary writer. Author of The
Horse, Cattle, Sheep, The Pig, and other similar standard works. _Pub.
Ju. Lip. Por. Rou._
=Young, Arthur.= 1741-1820. Agricultural writer of note. Author Rural
Economy, Six Months' Tour through North of England, etc. _See
Allibone's Dict. and Donaldson's Agricultural Biography._
=Young, Edward.= 1684-1765. Poet. Author Night Thoughts, etc. Style
strained and affected. _See Ward's Eng. Poets, vol. 3._ _Pub. Apl. Ca.
Hou._
=Young, Thomas.= 1773-1829. Scientific writer of eminence. _See
Peacock's Life of._
=Zouch, Richard.= c. 1590-1660. A voluminous legal writer.
=Zouch, Thomas.= 1737-1815. Miscellaneous writer. Author Memoirs Sir
Philip Sidney, Izaak Walton, etc.
ADDENDA.
=Bain, Alexander.= 181 Philosopher. Author The Senses and the
Intellect, The Emotions and the Will, Study of Character, Mental and
Moral Science, Logic, Mind and Body, Education as a Science, Life of
John Stuart Mill, etc. _Pub. Apl. Ho._
=Barnes, Wm.= 181 Poet and philologist. Author of Poems of Rural
Life in the Dorset Dialect, Grammar of the Dorset Dialect, etc. _Pub.
Rob._
=Bastian, Henry Charlton.= 183 Physician. Author The Beginnings
of Life, Evolution and the Origin of Life, Common Forms of Paralysis
from Brain Disease, etc. _Pub. Apl. Mac._
=Blackburn, Henry.= 183 Traveler. Author Travelling in Spain,
Normandy Picturesque, The Pyrenees, Artists and Arabs, Art in the
Mountains, etc. _Pub. Os._
=Browning, Oscar.= 183 Litterateur. Author of Hist. Educational
Theories. Modern England, 1820-1874, Modern France, 1815-1880, etc.,
and articles in Encyc. Brit. on Caesar, Carthage, Dante, Goethe, etc.
_Pub. Har._
=Buxton, Mrs. B. H. [Bee].= 184 Dramatic novelist. Author of
Jennie of the Prince's, Great Grenfell Gardens, Nell: on and off the
Stage, From the Wings, etc. _See the Biograph, Aug. 1880._ _Pub. Har.
Rou._
=Clark, Wm. George.= 1821-1878. Shakespearean scholar. Co-editor with
Wm. Aldis Wright, of the Cambridge and Globe editions of Shakespeare.
=Coleridge, Derwent.= 1800-1883. Miscellaneous writer. Son to S. T.
Coleridge. Author Scriptural Character of the English Church, Memoir
of Hartley Coleridge, Life of Praed, etc.
=Cook, Dutton.= 1832-1883. Novelist and dramatic critic. Author of
Young Mr. Nightingale, Art in England, The Book of the Play, etc.
=Craik, Georgiana Marion.= 183 Novelist. Author of Faith Unwin's
Ordeal, Mildred, Sylvia's Choice, Dorcas, Two Women, Winnifred's
Wooing, Only a Butterfly, The Cousin from India, Anne Warwick, Miss
Moore, etc. _Pub. Har. Rou._
=Crosland, Mrs. Camilla [Toulmin].= 181 Miscellaneous writer.
Author Hubert Freeth's Prosperity, The Island of the Rainbow, Hildred
the Daughter, Stratagems, etc. _Pub. Lip. Rou._
=Crosland, Mrs. Newton.= See Crosland, Mrs. Camilla.
=Geikie, Alexander.= 183 Geologist. Author The Story of a
Boulder, Phenomena of the Glacial Drift of Scotland, etc.
=Harris, George.= 180 Philosophical writer. Author True Theory
of Representation in a State, Theory of the Arts, Civilization as a
Science, Philosophical Treatise on the Nature and Constitution of Man,
etc. _See the Biograph, Aug. 1880._ _Pub. Apl._
=Sheppard, Elizabeth Sara.= ---- 1862. Novelist. Author Rumor,
Counterparts, Almost a Heroine, and the famous musical romance Charles
Auchester. _See Atlantic Monthly, June, 1862._
Transcriber's Note:
Not all letters can be shown as in the original text. The following
convention has been used to indicate letters which can not be
represented (where x denotes the letter).
[)x] letter with breve above
[=x] letter with macron above
[^x] letter with circumflex above
[x^] letter with circumflex below
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Brief Handbook of English Authors, by
Oscar Fay Adams
*** | {
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Johann Rudel (geboren am 20. September 1868 in Marienthal; gestorben am 6. November 1955 in Tübingen) war ein deutscher Kunstbuchbinder, Einbandgestalter und Professor an der Kunstgewerbeschule Elberfeld.
Leben
Rudel arbeitete mindestens seit 1890 als Lehrmeister für Handvergoldung in der Lehranstalt Horn & Patzelt in Gera. Diese Schule war 1880 von Otto Horn (* 1851) und dessen Schwager Wilhelm gegründet worden. In den Jahren 1907 bis 1932 unterrichtete er als Fachlehrer an der Kunstgewerbeschule in Wuppertal. Rudel war Ehrenmitglied der Vereinigung "Meister der Einbandkunst" (MDE). Er galt als einer der handwerklich besten Buchbinder seiner Zeit. Besonders hervorgehoben wurde der von ihm entworfene und hergestellte Einband für den Nachdruck einer 42-zeiligen Ausgabe der Gutenberg-Bibel. Von 1932 bis 1955 lebte er in Tübingen. Rudel schuf Einbände für Zeitschriftensammelbände, Jahrbücher und Monografien zur Buchbinde- und Buchgestaltungskunst sowie zum Kunsthandwerk. Er stellte der Sächsischen Landesbibliothek ab 1933 seine Sammlung von 194 hochwertigen Bucheinbänden zunächst als Dauerleihgabe, später als Stiftung zur Verfügung.
Werke (Auswahl)
Einbände
Friedrich von Schiller: Die Raeuber: ein Schauspiel. H. von Weber, München 1912.
Gerhart Hauptmann: Hanneles Himmelfahrt: Traumdichtung in zwei Teilen. S. Fischer, Berlin 1913.
Nikolaus Lenau: Don Juan: ein dramatisches Gedicht. H. von Weber, Leipzig 1921.
Hermann Hesse: Siddharta. Eine indische Dichtung. S. Fischer, Berlin 1925.
Schriften
Über die Herstellung der Lederintarsia. – Beachtenswerte Regeln beim Goldschnittmachen. – Die Technik in der Verzierung … des Buchschnittes (Einzelbeiträge in Zeitschriften).
Die Lederschnittechnik. In: Archiv für Buchbinderei und verwandte Geschäftszweige. Band 31, 1931, S. 72–74.
Literatur
Einzelnachweise
Mann
Deutscher
Geboren 1868
Gestorben 1955
Buchbinder | {
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9 Fabulous "Carnival" Celebrations You Must Experience in 2016
~ Frying Pans, Food Fights, and a Frenzy of Finger Painting ~
Whether you call it Carnival or Mardi Gras, some of the world's best parties take place as winter is drawing to a close. In the strictest sense, these decadent festivals have historically signified one last excess before the austerity of the Christian Lenten period that leads into Easter. Carnevale in Venice is world-renowned for its elegant masks, and everyone knows about those famous beads at New Orleans' Mardi Gras or the dedicated samba clubs in Rio. But if you're looking for something more unusual, Booking.com has scoured the globe for some alternative hidden gems and fantastically unique celebrations that will inspire you to take to the streets and leave your inhibitions behind...
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QUÉBEC CITY, CANADA
Party Details: Taking place over two weeks each year in Québec City, unlike other Carnival festivities around the world, the Québec Winter Carnival is a celebration of everything frozen. Featuring numerous events and parades showcasing the festival's friendly snowman mascot Bonhomme, revellers can wander gleefully through the Ice Palace, admire ice sculptures created on site by artists from around the world, or simply enjoy a wide range of winter sport events, including snowshoe and dogsled races. Keeping toasty in the frigid conditions is no problem, as long as you've got a bit of "caribou", a uniquely Canadian blend of warmed red wine, sweetened with maple sugar and fortified with a healthy shot of whisky.
When to Go: This year's Winter Carnival takes place from January 29 to February 14, so there's plenty of time to take advantage of all the frozen fun!
Where to Stay: As the most photographed hotel in the world and the crown jewel of North America's only fortified city, a stay at the historic Fairmont Le Chateau Frontenac is an indulgent treat for your frozen Canadian getaway, especially if you plan to attend the exclusive masquerade ball held in the grand ballroom.
Party Details: With more than 80 miles of coastline and a reputation for being one of the world's premiere party destinations, Goa packs a real punch with not one, but two fabulous festivals that are worth travelling for in the early part of the year. The first noteworthy party of the season, the Goa Carnival, is a curried mix of diverse traditions and religious ceremonies that culminates in a large parade featuring fantastical floats, dancing and a wide range of music on par with its counterparts in South America. For an exclusively Indian experience, stick around until March for the second not-to-be-missed party, the iconic and colourful Holi Festival. On the day after the first full moon in the month of March, the "festival of colours" is a wet and wild free-for-all that has to be experienced to be believed. Starting in the early hours of the morning, people of all ages drench each other in brightly coloured water and fling large amounts of powdered dyes everywhere and at everyone. The joyous multi-coloured chaos usually tapers off as evening approaches, but is by far one of the most exuberant and memorable ways to welcome the changing of the seasons.
When to Go: In 2016, the Goa Carnival starts on Saturday 6 February and finishes up on Tuesday 9 February. To indulge in some wanton finger painting, stick around for the Holi Festival in Goa which takes place this year on 23 March.
Where to Stay: Located right on Miramar Beach in the bustling centre of Goa's capital, Panaji, the Goa Marriott Resort & Spa is an ideal choice for taking advantage of all the partying, culture, and pampering that India's smallest state has to offer.
Party Details: What began as a local gay rights march in Sydney in 1978 has exploded into one of the most popular and beloved tourist events in Australia. Featuring a packed calendar of GLBT-themed events, the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras is one of the largest gay pride festivals in the world and now attracts enormous crowds to its decadent and eccentric parade. Think dykes on bikes and hordes of drag queens in glittering gowns partying it up on the same blocks of Oxford Street alongside families with children. With something for everyone, the Sydney Mardi Gras is by far Down Under's most impressive street party!
When to Go: The big parade takes place on 5 March this year, but additional special events leading up to the massive celebration start weeks in advance.
Where to Stay: For the ultimate Sydney experience, nurse your post-Mardi Gras hangover at the casual and cool Bondi Beach House, just steps from the city's most iconic stretch of golden sand.
Party Details: During the epic six-day "Carnaval baiano", you'll be bouncing like "pipoca" (literally popcorn) to the beats pumped out by dozens of bands and artists strategically stationed throughout this massive street party, so come prepared to mingle with the masses! The annual celebrations in Salvador—rumoured to be Brazil's most beloved—welcome an estimated 2 million+ party goers to the city. You can't samba your way through the streets without sampling Brazil's national cocktail, the caipirinha. Cupfuls of this intoxicating concoction of sugarcane liquor ("cachaça") muddled with sugar and lime will keep you dancing till dawn...
When to Go: The official party gets started in Salvador on Thursday 4 February 2016 and runs until the 10th, but don't be surprised if people are dancing in the streets well before and after these dates.
Where to Stay: With stunning ocean views in the heart of one of Salvador's most colourful neighbourhoods, the Pousada Casa Vila Bella is the perfect place for some authentic local hospitality and a little R&R between rounds of reckless abandon.
IVREA, ITALY
Party Details: Grab a protective helmet and jump into the fray as a "rebel" in one of the world's most famous food fights! Although the origins of "The Battle of the Oranges" in Ivrea remain somewhat disputed, legend dictates that a young peasant girl refused to give in to the advances of a tyrannical lord on her wedding night and instead, defiantly decapitated him, spurning a local rebellion. Although arrows have been exchanged for citrus fruit, the re-enactment of this epic battle is no less intense and is the highlight of carnival celebrations in Ivrea, with thousands of inhabitants dividing into nine teams, intent on beating the "pulp" out of each other. Have no fear—for those who just want to observe the juicy battle, protective nets are set up near the perimeter of the mock battlefield to protect spectators from any friendly fire.
When to Go: Around 500,000 kilos of oranges will be hurled around Ivrea from 6 February to 9 February 2016.
Where to Stay: Tend to your battle wounds in the rustic charm of a 16th-century house turned B&B, nestled in the hills just outside Ivrea. You can rest up for the next round of celebrations in the picturesque surroundings of B&B Cascina Moncrava, enjoying the personalised service and delicious breakfast that has guests gushing.
Party Details: As the former seat of power for the Inca Empire, the Peruvian city of Cusco delivers a truly unique Carnaval celebration that pays homage to both its Spanish colonial history and indigenous traditions. Dressed in local costumes bedecked with colourful streamers, locals flock to the regional capital for a week of festivities. Prepare yourself to get soaked, as the celebrations also include playful water fights in the streets near the central Plaza de Armas, as well as a large public feast, serving local specialties such as "t'impu" and "puchero" (traditional stews prepared with alpaca or llama and a variety of vegetables and fruits, including sweet potatoes, corn and yucca). The lively party also includes rounds of ritualised dancing around an enormous "yunza" tree loaded with presents and gifts. Couples take turns trying to hack down the tree, with the couple striking the final blow being tasked with sorting out the yunza tree for the following year!
When to Go: The week-long series of Carnaval celebrations in Cusco will take place during the week of 6 February in 2016, so make sure you're there in plenty of time to take in all of the festivities!
Where to Stay: Located right in the historic centre of Cusco and within striking distance of all the city has to offer, you'll be treated just like Incan royalty at the Palacio del Inka, but with all the modern comforts, of course!
Party Details: Discovered by Christopher Columbus in his third voyage to the New World in 1498, the island of Trinidad, just off the northern coast of Venezuela, hosts one of the most spirited carnival celebrations in the Western Hemisphere. Scantily-clad dancers sporting massive headdresses in every colour of the rainbow gyrate along the parade route to the sounds of "soca", a unique, local type of Calypso, while music trucks and groups of "panmen", keeping time on an improvised mix of frying pans, oil drums, and rubbish bin lids, keep the party hopping!
When to Go: Trinidad's carnival kicks off on the Monday before Ash Wednesday, so to catch all the festivities, make sure you're in Port of Spain from 8 to 9 February, 2016.
Where to Stay: The Hilton Trinidad & Conference Centre, located near the Queen's Park and the Botanical Gardens, promises amazing views of the island and a lush retreat for weary party goers.
Party Details: Boasting the largest carnival celebration in Switzerland, the Basel Fasnacht is a 3-day, around-the-clock blowout that begins the Monday after Ash Wednesday. Satirically dressed revellers march through the streets in "cliques", piping on their piccolos and beating on drums as they wind their way through the centre of the city. Featuring endless rounds of parading brass bands, fantastical floats, and sarcastic singers, revellers should be on the lookout for spontaneous attacks from the infamous "Waggis", known for showering spectators without official Fasnacht Badges with handfuls of colourful confetti.
When to Go: With reliable Swiss precision, the Basel Fasnacht lasts for exactly three days, beginning at 4:00am on Monday 15 February, 2016 and finishing up at 4:00am on Thursday 18 February, 2016.
Where to Stay: Situated just steps from Basel's historic centre and the train station, MadibApartments L8 is the perfect crash pad to soak up the carnival scene in Basel. It's close enough to the action for you to secretly and conveniently escape the crowds for a quick power nap to recharge for the next round of masked mayhem.
BINCHE, BELGIUM
Party Details: With a carnival tradition dating back to the 14th century and officially listed as a Masterpiece of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity by UNESCO, the pre-Lenten bash in the medieval walled town of Binche is hailed as the best in all of Belgium. Nearly a thousand wax-masked clowns (known as 'Gilles') roam the streets starting at dawn on Ash Tuesday, dancing to the beat of drums in wooden shoes and beating sticks to ward off evil spirits. Later on, the Gilles don fanciful hats bedecked with ostrich feathers and toss oranges to (and sometimes at) the assembled crowds as they march through the town. If you're lucky enough to be pelted with an orange, don't submit to the temptation to throw one back—it's considered a massive insult!
When to Go: The official festivities begin on Shrove Sunday, 7 February 2016 and culminate on Ash Tuesday, 9 February. However, celebrations start as early as seven weeks prior with music, street performers, public displays and marching on the preceding Sundays.
Where to Stay: Just a short drive north of Binche, the Aparthotel Le Manoir Du Capitaine
offers secluded and comfortable digs in a renovated 19th-century brewery in the heart of Wallonia. It's the perfect launching point to explore the surrounding countryside, including the famous battleground of Waterloo.
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Haunted Hotels, Creepy Hostels and Spooky Castles: The Ultimate Halloween Getaways
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10 Canadian Destinations on the Rise
Booking.com Reveals How and Where Canadians Rediscovered Travel Closer to Home this Summer
Attracting longer stay travellers just got easier for properties on Booking.com
Canada is Calling: The Return of the Classic Road Trip | {
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About Psychology Dept.
PSY Faculty & Staff
Contact Psychology Dept.
College of NSS
The Department of Psychology
THE CENTER FOR MULTICULTURAL RESEARCH
The Center for Multicultural Research is a recent addition to the Psychology Department. It was established in 1996 and currently has two faculty members involved, Jean Phinney and Eric Kohatsu. Dr. Phinney's research program has been on-going for 12 years, with support of the Minority Biomedical Research Support (MBRS) Program of the National Institutes of Health. About four students per year have received support and research training under this program over the course of the grant. This research program has addressed a variety of issues related to ethnic factors in adolescence, including ethinc identity development and its correlates, intergroup relations, cultural values, and adjustment in immigrant families.
Dr. Phinney's current facilities house an ongoing longitudinal study of identity formation among adolescents from five ethnic groups; Mexican American, African American, European American, Armenian, and Vietnamese. This project is supported by a four-year MBRS grant (1996-2000). Currently eight students are actively involved in the project. In addition, two community consultants (from the Armenian and Vietnamese communities) are employed by the project to provide support for the study, including information about ethnic communities, community contacts, and translations of research surveys. Dr. David Sam, a postdoctoral scholar from Norway, was a visitor to the project from February through August, 1996 and from April through July, 1997.
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Download "+ PO 4 ) dihydrogen phosphate (2 H + 3 hydrogen carbonate (bicarbonate) (H + 2"
Elements make up the periodic table.
CHEM 1180 Fall 2015 Element Quiz A 28 AUG 15. Guard your quiz and conduct yourself properly. Spelling counts!
Name: Class: Date: ID: A PSN Chapter 5 Multi-format Test Modified True/False Indicate whether the statement is true or false. If false, change the identified word or phrase to make the statement true..
All answers must use the correct number of significant figures, and must show units!
correspond with the position of those 15 elements at the periodic table. If you are chemist, you will know easily these elements with transposition.
TOPIC 1. ELEMENTS, COMPOUNDS AND MIXTURES.
Materials both natural and human made have unique properties.
47374_04_p25-32.qxd 2/9/07 7:50 AM Page 25 4 Atoms and Elements 4.1 a. Cu b. Si c. K d. N e. Fe f. Ba g. Pb h. Sr 4.2 a. O b. Li c. S d. Al e. H f. Ne g. Sn h. Au 4.3 a. carbon b. chlorine c. iodine d.
THIS IS A NEW SPECIFICATION H Wednesday 18 January 2012 Morning GCSE TWENTY FIRST CENTURY SCIENCE CHEMISTRY A A171/02 Modules C1 C2 C3 (Higher Tier) *A131480112* Candidates answer on the Question Paper.
AA or ICP - Which do you choose?
THIS IS A NEW SPECIFICATION H Thursday 17 January 2013 Afternoon GCSE TWENTY FIRST CENTURY SCIENCE CHEMISTRY A A171/02 Modules C1 C2 C3 (Higher Tier) *A131480113* Candidates answer on the Question Paper.
Chemistry Reference Tables Name Value Avogadro s number 6.0 10 particles/mole 0.081 L atm mole K Gas constant (R) 6. L mmg mole K 8.1 L kpa mole K Standard pressure 1.00 atm = 101. kpa = 760. mmg = 760.
THIS IS A NEW SPECIFICATION H Tuesday 22 January 2013 Morning GCSE TWENTY FIRST CENTURY SCIENCE CHEMISTRY A A172/02 Modules C4 C5 C6 (Higher Tier) *A135780113* Candidates answer on the Question Paper.
THIS IS A NEW SPECIFICATION F Tuesday 22 January 2013 Morning GCSE TWENTY FIRST CENTURY SCIENCE CHEMISTRY A A172/01 Modules C4 C5 C6 (Foundation Tier) *A135770113* Candidates answer on the Question Paper.
What is the atomic mass of Iridium? What is the atomic number Chromium? What is the charge of a neutron?
How many protons are in oxygen? 1 What is the atomic mass of Iridium? 192 What is the number of protons and neutrons in Niobium? 93 How many electrons in Potassium? 19 What is the atomic number Chromium?
THIS IS A NEW SPECIFICATION F Monday 25 June 2012 Afternoon GCSE TWENTY FIRST CENTURY SCIENCE CHEMISTRY A A172/01 Modules C4 C5 C6 (Foundation Tier) *A135360612* Candidates answer on the Question Paper.
The Periodic Table. A building as a Piece of Art! Pre-Reading Questions. 300 Chapter 12 Copyright by Holt, Rinehart and Winston. All rights reserved.
Lab Session 5, Experiment 4 Chemical Nomenclature Objective: To learn how to read and write formulas of compounds Background: Many of the substances you will encounter in this laboratory are ionic compounds. | {
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Q: Repository Updates Only With Initial Commit If I run 'git push' in terminal, it won't update my repository on github; however, if I initialize the git, and run the three following: 'git init', 'git add .', and finally, 'git commit -m "Initial commit"', then the repository updates.
Can someone help me?
A: Try doing it without running git init. That's the command t set up a new repository. Since you already have a clone there isn't anything to create.
Also, you need to actually have some changes to commit. Run a it status before running git add . to see if you actually have changes to commit.
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{"url":"http:\/\/math.stackexchange.com\/questions\/57426\/find-v-in-kera-i3-such-that-langle-v-rangle-oplus-kera-i2-ker","text":"# Find $v \\in \\ker(A-I)^3$ such that $\\langle v \\rangle \\oplus \\ker(A-I)^2 = \\ker(A-I)^3$\n\nI am currently studying for my linear algebra exam and I got quite confused when trying to find the Jordan normal form for some matrix. Let $$A = \\begin{pmatrix} 2 & 0 & 0 & 1\\\\ 0 & 0 & -1 & 0\\\\ -1 & 0 & 1 & -1\\\\ 0 & 1 & 1 & 1 \\end{pmatrix}.$$ The eigenvalue is $\\lambda = 1$ with multiplicity 4. Then, $$\\ker(A-I)^2 = \\langle \\begin{pmatrix} 1\\\\ -1\\\\ 0\\\\ 0 \\end{pmatrix}, \\begin{pmatrix} 1\\\\ 0 \\\\ -1 \\\\ 0 \\end{pmatrix}, \\begin{pmatrix} 1 \\\\ 0 \\\\ 0 \\\\ -1 \\end{pmatrix} \\rangle$$ and $\\ker(A-i)^3 = \\mathbb{R}^4$. Now I want to find $v \\in \\ker(A-I)^3$ such that $v \\notin \\ker(A-I)^2$. The solution now suggests me to take $$v = \\begin{pmatrix} 1\\\\ 0 \\\\ 0 \\\\ 0 \\end{pmatrix}$$ and I understand why this is a possible choice. However, if I am not mistaken, also $e_2, e_3$ and $e_4$ are a valid choice. How is this possible? Where is my mistake? Or are really all four vectors a valid choice?\n\nEDIT: I think I misformulated the question - my mistake.\n\nI know that $\\ker(A-I)^2 \\subset \\ker(A-I)^3$ and I want to find $v \\in \\ker(A-I)^3$ such that $$\\langle v \\rangle \\oplus \\ker(A-I)^2 = \\ker(A-I)^3.$$ Now if I think about this, $\\ker(A-I)^2$ is a subset of $\\ker(A-I)^3$ and I want to find a basis of the subset of $\\ker(A-I)^3$ which - when added to $\\ker(A-I)^2$ - gives $\\ker(A-I)^3$. Then, if the basis vector $e_1$ spans this whole subset that means that the subset contains only vectors of the form $c \\cdot e_1$. But if I can also take $e_2$, that means the subset contains only vectors of the form $c \\cdot e_2$ which is impossible. Where is my mistake?\n\nSorry again for the incorrectly formulated original question.\n\n-\nEvery vector not in the hyperplane H=ker(A-I)^2 is a solution. The analogue in two dimensions would be that if the kernel is H=Vect(e_1-e_2) every vector not in the line H=Vect(e_1-e_2) is a solution, for example e_1 and e_2 are. You see the two basis vectors are solutions. \u2013\u00a0Did Aug 14 '11 at 16:49\n@Didier Piau - I think the question isn't carefully worded. It seems that Huy understands that there are lots of choices to complete a basis. The question is probably more along the lines of: Since I can use different bases to put a matrix into Jordan form doesn't this give different answers? How is this possible? Or something like that. \u2013\u00a0Matt Aug 14 '11 at 16:58\nWhen I asked the question, I was in a hurry and totally misformulated my question. Sorry about that. I hope the added part makes it clear now. \u2013\u00a0Huy Aug 14 '11 at 17:12\nI think the confusion stems from the fact that if I have a subspace $W \\subset V$ then there are usually a lot of choices for a $W' \\subset V$ such that $V = W \\oplus W'$. \u2013\u00a0Dylan Moreland Aug 14 '11 at 17:29\n...I want to find a basis of the subset of ker(A\u2212I)^3 which - when added to ker(A\u2212I)^2 - gives ker(A\u2212I)^3... As I said in my first comment, the error (if any) is to think that for a given (strict) vector subspace W of the vector space V there is a unique subset S of V such that the direct sum of Vect(S) and W is V. There are plenty. And there are even plenty of subspaces U such that the direct sum of U and W is V. I can only recommend to study the 2D example I gave. \u2013\u00a0Did Aug 14 '11 at 17:34\n\nEvery vector not in the hyperplane $H=\\ker(A-I)^2$ is a solution. The analogue in two dimensions would be that if the kernel is $H=\\text{Vect}(e_1-e_2)$, then every vector not in the line $H$ is a solution, for example both $e_1$ and $e_2$ are. One sees the two basis vectors are solutions.\nThus, the error (if any) is to think that for a given (strict) vector subspace $W$ of the vector space $V$ there is a unique subset $S$ of $V$ such that $\\text{Vect}(S)\\oplus W=V$. There are plenty. And there are even plenty of subspaces $U$ such that $U\\oplus W=V$, as the 2D example I gave shows.\nMaybe the origin of the trouble is to confuse the Euclidean space $E=\\mathbb R^4$ and the (simple) vector space $V=\\mathbb R^4$. The former structure is the latter plus the usual scalar product. The orthogonal supplement of a subspace $W$ of the Euclidean vector space $E=\\mathbb R^4$ is indeed unique, in the case at hand it is $\\text{Vect}(u)$ with $u=e_1+e_2+e_3+e_4$. But the supplements of subspace $W$ of the vector space $V=\\mathbb R^4$ are many.\nI see no mistake. Denote your three basis vectors of $\\ker(A-I)^2$ as $v_1,v_2,v_3$, with $v_1=(1,-1,0,0)^T$. You can always extend $\\{v_1,v_2,v_3\\}$ to a basis of $\\mathbb{R}^4$ by adding a fourth vector $u\\notin{\\rm span}\\{v_1,v_2,v_3\\}$, but then any fifth vector would be a linear combination of $v_1,v_2,v_3$ and $u$. For example, you may add $e_1$ or $e_2$ to $\\{v_1,v_2,v_3\\}$ to form a basis of $\\mathbb{R}^4$, but you cannot add both, because five vectors in $\\mathbb{R}^4$ would make a linearly dependent set. (In particular, $e_1-e_2=v_1$.)","date":"2016-05-27 14:51:42","metadata":"{\"extraction_info\": {\"found_math\": true, \"script_math_tex\": 0, \"script_math_asciimath\": 0, \"math_annotations\": 0, \"math_alttext\": 0, \"mathml\": 0, \"mathjax_tag\": 0, \"mathjax_inline_tex\": 1, \"mathjax_display_tex\": 1, \"mathjax_asciimath\": 0, \"img_math\": 0, \"codecogs_latex\": 0, \"wp_latex\": 0, \"mimetex.cgi\": 0, \"\/images\/math\/codecogs\": 0, \"mathtex.cgi\": 0, \"katex\": 0, \"math-container\": 0, \"wp-katex-eq\": 0, \"align\": 0, \"equation\": 0, \"x-ck12\": 0, \"texerror\": 0, \"math_score\": 0.889309287071228, \"perplexity\": 132.4872558705799}, \"config\": {\"markdown_headings\": true, \"markdown_code\": true, \"boilerplate_config\": {\"ratio_threshold\": 0.3, \"absolute_threshold\": 10, \"end_threshold\": 15, \"enable\": true}, \"remove_buttons\": true, \"remove_image_figures\": true, \"remove_link_clusters\": true, \"table_config\": {\"min_rows\": 2, \"min_cols\": 3, \"format\": \"plain\"}, \"remove_chinese\": true, \"remove_edit_buttons\": true, \"extract_latex\": true}, \"warc_path\": \"s3:\/\/commoncrawl\/crawl-data\/CC-MAIN-2016-22\/segments\/1464049276780.5\/warc\/CC-MAIN-20160524002116-00206-ip-10-185-217-139.ec2.internal.warc.gz\"}"} | null | null |
If you're in need of emergency cash but your options are limited by a poor credit score, a title loan or a payday loan could both be options worth considering. These short-term loans are easy to obtain, even if you suffer from bad credit, and you could be approved for either in as little as 30 minutes at a store location near you.
Title loans and payday loans have certain things in common, including the fast financial relief they provide and by how easy they are to obtain. But there are also some notable differences between these two loan types. Title loans, for example, typically offer higher cash amounts than payday loans, but require the title of a vehicle you own as collateral for approval. Payday loans, on the other hand, don't require anything except a valid ID, proof of income and a blank check from your active checking account.
When money is short and you need some extra cash to make it through a tough financial spot, either of these short-term loans could be a viable option. They could provide financial relief quickly, with very few hassles. Both title loans and payday loans could help you cover a last-minute expense or contend with a financial emergency you didn't see coming. Whatever your dilemma is, these two convenient short-term loan options offer fast cash in as little as 30 minutes.
With title loans, same-day cash amounts are available up to $15,000, regardless of your credit. The loan is secured by your vehicle title, and the amount you could qualify for is dictated by your vehicle's value and condition. Your lender will hold your vehicle title until the loan is repaid, although you are able to keep and drive your car the entire time you are making the payments on your title loan.
A payday loan is also type of short-term loan that could put up to $255 in your pocket in as little as 30 minutes. Unlike title loans, payday loans don't require a vehicle title or other collateral to secure. In order to qualify for payday loan cash, you would need to provide your driver's license or state-issued photo ID, a bank statement from an active checking account in your name, and simple proof of your ability to repay the payday loan. A payday loan basically gives you the ability to draw on the funds from your next paycheck to handle expenses that can't wait.
Take the time to assess your situation and determine the approximate amount of cash you will need to get your finances back on track. Anything up to $255 would be easy to cover with a payday loan, and you simply repay the balance on your next payday. For larger expenditures or cash emergencies, a title loan could put anywhere from $2,501 to $15,000 in your hands in as little as 30 minutes. A title loan also offers longer repayment options than a payday loan.
One of the easiest ways to determine the best option for your individual situation is to ask for help from your local lender. They'll be happy to answer any questions you have and help you choose the lending option that is right for you. Get started on the approval process today by filling out an online request form so a representative can call you back to help you prepare for your visit to their store. They can go over both loan types with you and personally help you decide which one is best for you and your individual needs. | {
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Q: Change just the direction of gradient on hover I have a button with a gradient, and I'd like for the gradient to switch directions on hover. Here is the starting CSS:
.button-1 {
border: 1px solid #15440a;
border-radius: 2px;
color: white;
background-color: #2890b;
background-image: linear-gradient(#299c0f 20%, #1a7b09 80%);
font-size: 13px;
}
I'd like to do something like this:
.button-1:hover {
/* change just direction of gradient */
/* keep colors the same */
}
Is there any way to do this?
A: Just switch places of colors inside linear-gradient property.
.button-1:hover {
background-image: linear-gradient(#1a7b09 20%, #299c0f 80%);
}
http://jsfiddle.net/EkYE5/1/
A: You can achieve changing the gradient direction only by keeping your gradient code the same, and adding 'to top,' ahead of the gradient colors:
.button-1:hover {
background-image: linear-gradient(to top, #299c0f 20%, #1a7b09 80%);
{
| {
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A Scholar on the Road
UCSB's Miroslava Chávez-García receives summer residency at University of Tübingen in Germany
MIROSPIC3-crop.jpg
Miroslava Chávez-García
Ebers García
Miroslava Chávez-García, who has done groundbreaking studies on race, gender and power in California, is taking her scholarship in a new direction: Germany. A professor in the Department of Chicana and Chicano Studies at UC Santa Barbara, she has been selected to receive the 2016 residency at the University of Tübingen by the Organization of American Historians.
"Traveling to Germany and teaching at a local university, the University of Tübingen, one of the oldest institutions of higher learning in Germany and located just south of Stuttgart, will be an amazing opportunity," Chávez-García said.
As a resident scholar, Chávez-García will lead a course titled "Race and Juvenile Justice in the United States." "I decided to offer the course, which I first developed at UC Davis and teach at UCSB, as it focuses on young people of color who, for a variety of reasons — economically, politically, culturally and legally — become ensnared in the justice system," she said. "I knew that Europeans, Germans in particular, have similar concerns in dealing with young migrants and refugees, most of whom are 'of color' or racial and ethnic minorities from other countries, and that they would find the class interesting for comparative purposes. I'm looking forward to engaging with German and international students at the university."
Chávez-García, who wrote and will teach parts of the lauded "States of Delinquency: Race and Science in the Making of California's Juvenile Justice System" (University of California Press, 2012), will also use "Punished: Policing the Lives of Black and Latino Boys" (New York University Press, 2011), by Victor Rios, a UCSB professor of sociology; and "A Rainbow of Gangs: Street Cultures in the Mega City" (University of Texas Press, 2002), by UC Irvine professor James Diego Vigil.
"When I learned that I had been awarded the Germany Residency for the summer of 2016, I was quite excited and honored to receive the news," Chávez-García said. "To be honest, I was also a bit surprised. Initially, when they announced the award, I was informed that I was an alternate and had pretty much given up hope of claiming such a privilege. But I when found that the awardee was unable to attend and was asked to consider the opportunity, I did so right away."
Organization of American Historians
University of Tübingen
The Health Gap
Indigenous Protection
The Status of Women
A Teaching Tool for a Warming World | {
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Read Next: Eliza Hittman on Her Sundance-Bound Teen Abortion Tale 'Never Rarely Sometimes Always'
April 14, 2016 2:54AM PT
Cannes 2016: Film Festival Unveils Official Selection Lineup
Steven Spielberg, Woody Allen and Jodie Foster among the big American names screening their latest work in Cannes.
By Peter Debruge and Elsa Keslassy
CREDIT: Courtesy of TriStar Pictures
Unveiling the Cannes official selection in Paris, festival president Pierre Lescure and artistic director Thierry Fremaux set the stage for an epic clash between the powers of good (including Steven Spielberg's big friendly giant, "The BFG," and Shane Black's "Nice Guys") and evil ("Money Monster" and "The Neon Demon") among its English-language fare, which also includes new films from Jeff Nichols ("Loving"), Sean Penn ("The Last Face") and Jim Jarmusch — the latter bringing both bus-driver drama "Paterson" and Iggy Pop docu "Gimme Danger."
While paparazzi will have plenty of American stars to distract them on the red carpet — ranging from Shia LaBeouf (who headlines British director Andrea Arnold's "American Honey") to a double helping of Kristen Stewart (appearing in both "Personal Shopper" and the previously announced opening night film, Woody Allen's "Cafe Society") — the lineup also includes new work from such high-profile directors as Pedro Almodovar ("Julieta"), Park Chan-wook ("The Handmaiden") and Paul Verhoeven ("Elle").
The 49 titles unveiled on Thursday represent 28 countries in all, with an especially strong showing for Romania (with two films in competition, past Palme d'Or winner Cristian Mungiu's "Graduation" and Cristi Puiu's "Sierra-Nevada," and debut "Dogs" in Un Certain Regard), Israel ("Personal Affairs," "Beyond the Mountains and Hills") and, of course, France. While French producers and distributors exert intense pressure on Fremaux and his team, the big winner is American newcomer Amazon Studios, with five films in official selection.
As for the global range of the lineup, such diversity is to be expected from the world's leading showcase for international cinema, though questions from the assembled journalists immediately revealed perceived blind spots in the lineup ("No Italy!?" "Where's Mexico?"). Fremaux shrugged off such concerns, stressing that the selection represents the best of the record-setting 1,869 features submitted for consideration.
Regarding the complete absence of Italian filmmakers in competition (a mere year after three of the country's top directors wrestled for the Palme), Fremaux said the country's rising generation of filmmakers was repped by Stefano Mordini ("Pericles the Black Man") in Un Certain Regard, quipping, "Italy is close to our heart, as this year's Cannes poster demonstrates!"
Still, with only two from Latin America ("Acquarius," from Brazilian critic-turned-helmer Kleber Mendonca Filho, and Argentine-made "The Long Night of Francisco Sanctis") and two from Africa (NYU-schooled Egyptian director Mohamed Diab's "Clash" and Mahamat-Saleh Haroun's "A Chad Tragedy"), Fremaux should expect further questions in the coming weeks as to the largely Euro- and U.S.-centric lineup.
Although there are only three female directors in competition — Arnold, Nicole Garcia ("From the Land of the Moon" and Maren Ade ("Toni Erdmann") — roughly one-fifth of the directors in the overall official selection are women. The Un Certain Regard section features the work of five additional female helmers — and showcases a younger crop of talent overall.
Less crowded with "the usual suspects" than recent years, the competition runs the gamut of age and experience, making room for rising young talents — such as Nichols (whose "Loving" focuses on a mixed-race American couple arrested for miscegenation in 1958) and Canadian Xavier Dolan ("It's Only the End of the World") — alongside more well-established auteurs. It's little surprise to find previous Palme d'Or winners Ken Loach ("I, Daniel Blake") or Belgian brothers Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne ("The Unknown Girl") in competition, unless you count the fact that Loach had indicated he expected to retire after 2014's "Jimmy's Hall."
The programming committee poached just one film from this year's Sundance lineup, Matt Ross' "Captain Fantastic," which stars Viggo Mortensen as an anti-establishment ex-hippie.
Apart from "Elle" and Nicolas Winding Refn's "The Neon Demon" (which Fremaux called a "cannibal horror movie set in the fashion world"), the competition lineup is light on genre fare, though there are other juicy examples peppered throughout the rest of the official selection — including American director Michael O'Shea's debut "Transfiguration" (one of "several vampire stories in this year's lineup," per Fremaux) and Na Hong-jin's gritty Korean crime thriller "Goksung".
While the selection is nearly complete, Fremaux indicated that he might still add one or two titles in the coming weeks, later telling Variety that he's still waiting to see Asghar Farhadi's latest. That said, several much-anticipated films that cineastes hoped to discover in Cannes will definitely not be there, including Martin Scorsese's "Silence" and Kiyoshi Kurosawa's "The Woman in the Silver Plate," neither of which is done, according to Fremaux. "I have seen parts of it, but it's not ready even though it finished shooting last year," he said.
Among the other conspicuous omissions was a closing night movie, which Fremaux explained by saying he instead plans to end the festival by re-screening whichever film wins the Palme d'Or. Asked if that change in strategy was a way to solve the eternal dilemma of finding a decent film to wrap the festival, Fremaux pointed out some closing films have been great successes in the history of Cannes, including Spielberg's "E.T." and Ridley Scott's "Thelma & Louise." But he acknowledged that the main problem with closing night is the fact that most people have already left by the end of the festival, which makes it a tough sell to convince filmmakers who want to provide the best showcase for their movies. By contrast, he hopes that repeating the Palme winner on closing night might bolster the slot's profile and trigger more interest in it.
Addressing security concerns amid Europe's current terrorist turmoil, Lescure said the festival will be responsible for ensuring security inside the Palais and its immediate surroundings. "We have staffed up with 599 security staff who are highly experienced," said Lescure, who added that the festival will be collaborating on a daily basis with local and regional authorities to provide the best possible security measures.
Before the press conference, Lescure and Fremaux gave the floor to French entertainment workers and students who protested against the government's attempt to toughen labor laws for audiovisual, film and culture industryites.
The Cannes Film Festival runs May 11-22.
2016 CANNES FILM FESTIVAL LINEUP
"Cafe Society" (Woody Allen). The director's until-recently-untitled 1930s romance, which divides its time between Hollywood and the Bronx, stars Kristen Stewart and Jesse Eisenberg. His first feature to be shot in digital, "Cafe Society" was lensed by "Apocalypse Now" d.p. Vittorio Storaro and will be released later this year by Amazon Studios (rather than the director's usual distributor, Sony Pictures Classics). Allen was at Cannes just last year with "Irrational Man."
"Aquarius" (Kleber Mendonca Filho). Critic-turned-director Kleber Mendonça Filho's follow-up to 2012's "Neighboring Sounds," one of the most talked-up Brazilian debuts of this decade, stars Sonia Braga ("Kiss of the Spider Woman") as a retired, widowed music writer, who also time travels.
"American Honey" (Andrea Arnold, U.K.). The British director, who was invited to serve on the Cannes jury in 2012, has earned her fair share of honors from the festival, claiming jury prizes for both "Red Road" and "Fish Tank" in official competition. Her latest — and her first-ever American film — follows a group of young people who travel the country selling magazine subscriptions and making trouble, starring Sasha Lane, Shia LaBeouf and Riley Keough. A24 plans to release later this year.
"Elle" (Paul Verhoeven, Netherlands). The "Black Book" director's first film to land in official competition since 1992's "Basic Instinct," this thriller finds Verhoeven working in French for the first time. Former Cannes jury president Isabelle Huppert plays a top exec for a video-game company who turns the tables after being violated in a home invasion.
"From the Land of the Moon" (Nicole Garcia, France). Adapted from Milena Agus' Italian novella about a young woman's romances, both real and imagined, from 1943 until the mid-'60s, this entry — which stars Marion Cotillard and looks to be one of the lineup's more crowd-pleasing entries — marks the third time the French actress-turned-helmer ("Charlie Says") has directed a feature in competition.
"Graduation," (Cristian Mungiu, Romania). A Palme d'Or winner for "4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days," Mungiu reportedly scaled back after "Beyond the Hills" (a Cannes screenplay winner), discreetly shooting his latest last summer in Romania. Following films about abortion and forbidden lesbian love, Mungiu's new project is remarkable in that it centers around a male protagonist, a small-town doctor played by Adrian Titieni.
"The Handmaiden" (Park Chan-wook, S. Korea). This latest from the director of "Old Boy" — back in Cannes after 2009's "Thirst" — marks a return to Korean-language filmmaking after "Stoker," although it takes its inspiration from British novelist Sarah Waters' "Fingersmith" (previously adapted for the BBC), in which a female pickpocket aligns with a con man to seduce and scam a wealthy Japanese heiress. Amazon Studios has U.S. rights.
"I, Daniel Blake" (Ken Loach, U.K.). Britain's celebrated social realist has been a Cannes mainstay, screening 16 films in the fest (a dozen of them in competition) since the 1970 premiere of "Kes" in Critics' Week. His latest collaboration with screenwriter Paul Laverty (who wrote Loach's Palme d'Or winner, "The Wind That Shakes the Barley") centers on an injured carpenter and single mother struggling to get by on welfare.
"It's Only the End of the World" (Xavier Dolan, Canada). After serving on the jury of last year's festival, the young Canadian director — who split the jury prize with Jean-Luc Godard for his last feature, "Mommy" — returns with this French-language drama, which stars Marion Cotillard, Lea Seydoux and Vincent Cassel. Inspired by Jean-Luc Lagarce's play "Juste la fin du monde," the film follows a writer who returns home to announce his imminent death to his immediate family.
"Julieta" (Pedro Almodovar, Spain). Taking inspiration from a trio of stories by Pulitzer winner Alice Munro included in her book "Runaway," the Spanish director's latest celebration of a strong female protagonist stars Adriana Ugarte and Emma Suarez, who split the title role over the span of more than 30 years. This is the "All About My Mother" director's fourth film in competition. As usual, Sony Pictures Classics will release in the U.S.
"The Last Face" (Sean Penn, U.S.). The controversial actor-director's new drama stars Charlize Theron and Javier Bardem as aid workers who fall in love against the backdrop of war-torn Liberia. The film marks a return to Cannes for Penn after his helming debut, "The Indian Runner" (1991, Directors' Fortnight), and "The Pledge" (2001, competition). Penn served as president of the official Cannes jury in 2008.
"Loving" (Jeff Nichols, U.S.). Mere months after "Midnight Special" premiered at Berlin, Nichols will unveil this civil rights drama starring Joel Edgerton and Ruth Negga as an interracial couple in 1958 Virginia. Set to open theatrically Nov. 4 through Focus Features, the film would mark a return to Cannes for Nichols after "Take Shelter" (2011, Critics' Week) and "Mud" (2012, competition).
"Ma' Rosa" (Brillante Mendoza, Philippines). Little is known so far about the latest from the prolific Filipino auteur, who was in Cannes just last year with his Un Certain Regard entry, "Trap." He was previously in competition with "Kinatay" (2009), which earned him the jury's directing prize, and "Serbis" (2008).
"The Neon Demon" (Nicolas Winding Refn, Denmark). According to an early statement by the Danish director, "After making 'Drive' and falling madly in love with the electricity of Los Angeles, I knew I had to return to tell the story of 'The Neon Demon,'" a style-drenched horror movie in which Elle Fanning plays a young model preyed upon by jealous rivals. Amazon will release in the U.S. this summer.
"Paterson" (Jim Jarmusch, U.S.). Adam Driver plays Paterson, a blue-collar bus driver who lives in the modest New Jersey city of the same name. He dabbles in poetry, encouraged by on-screen wife Golshifteh Farahani, in what's sure to be one of the film's more low-key entries — nothing like the director's last Cannes competition selection, "Only Lovers Left Alive." Six of his pics have competed for the Palme.
"Personal Shopper" (Olivier Assayas, France). Assayas' latest reunites him with Kristen Stewart, who won critical accolades and a supporting actress Cesar for "Clouds of Sils Maria." Set in the world of Paris fashion and interwoven with supernatural elements, the intriguing project stars Stewart as an American woman working as personal shopper for a celebrity. Sales: Mk2.
"Sierra-Nevada" (Cristi Puiu, Romania). One of the most revered Romanian filmmakers has remarkably never been in competition at Cannes; both "The Death of Mr. Lazarescu" and "Aurora" premiered in Un Certain Regard. That looks to change at last. His new film (which stars "Lazarescu's" Mimi Branescu") is set around a contentious family reunion intended to commemorate the life of a recently deceased patriarch.
"Slack Bay" (Bruno Dumont, France). After earning some of the best reviews of his career with "Li'l Quinquin," Dumont seems determined to get even wackier, eschewing unknowns for established stars, including Fabrice Luchini and Juliette Binoche. Set in the same dreary corner of northern France where the director has always lived and worked, during the summer of 1910, the period comedy marks the director's third film in competition, following "L'Humanite" and "Flanders."
"Staying Vertical" (Alain Guiraudie, France). The director attracted international attention three years ago with "Stranger by the Lake," a daring thriller set in a gay cruising spot. The edgy film earned him best director honors in Un Certain Regard and a handful of Cesar nominations at the end of the year. His latest feature, which turns on a film director who raises his young son alone, graduates to competition. Sales: Les Films du Losange.
"Toni Erdmann" (Maren Ade, Germany). One of only three female directors in competition — and the first German to compete since Wim Wenders' "Palermo Shooting" in 2008 — Ade won the Silver Bear in Berlin for "Everyone Else." Her third feature stars Peter Simonischek as a father convinced that his daughter (Sandra Huller) has lost her sense of humor, so he drops in on her in Bucharest and unleashes a series of jokes.
"The Unknown Girl" (Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne, Belgium). After casting movie stars Marion Cotillard and Cecile de France in their previous two films, the Belgian brothers cast the lesser-known but rising French star Adele Haenel ("Love at First Fight") alongside regulars Jeremie Renier and Olivier Gourmet in this story of a young doctor investigating the identity of a patient who died after being refused treatment.
"The BFG" (Steven Spielberg, U.S.). A reunion between former Cannes jury president Spielberg and "E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial's" (late) screenwriter Melissa Mathison, this all-ages Roald Dahl adaptation represents the biggest film on the Croisette, kicking off an international campaign for Disney's July 1 release. Mark Rylance plays the eponymous giant, while Rebecca Hall, Bill Hader and Jermaine Clement play more normal-sized characters.
"Goksung" (Na Hong-jin, S. Korea). The gritty Korean genre director has been to Cannes twice before, with "The Chaser" (midnight, 2008) and "The Yellow Sea" (Un Certain Regard, 2011). Set in a remote village set into turmoil by a series of deaths, his ultra-stylish new film is told from the perspective of a police detective who comes to suspect that the crimes have something to do with his own daughter. Sales: Finecut.
"Money Monster" (Jodie Foster, U.S.). George Clooney plays the host of a television financial-advice program taken hostage by an angry viewer ("Unbroken's" Jack O'Connell), who holds him responsible for a bad stock tip. Julia Roberts also stars as the show's tough-as-nails producer in a film that brings Foster back to Cannes 30 years after "Taxi Driver" unspooled in competition.
"Nice Guys" (Shane Black, U.S.). Russell Crowe and Ryan Gosling co-star in this late-'70s-set L.A. buddy comedy between a pair of not-quite cops, who don't hesitate to bend the rules while investigating a girl's disappearance. Black was previously in Cannes with "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang," which screened out of competition, while Gosling infamously debuted his "Lost River" there two years ago.
"After the Storm" (Hirokazu Kore-eda, Japan). Fremaux reiterated that Kore-ada's latest is a smaller film than last year's "Our Little Sister," focusing on a washed up writer trying to make amends with his elderly mother and ex-wife in order to reconnect with his young son.
"Apprentice" (Boo Junfeng, Singapore). Six years after his debut, "Sandcastle," premiered in Critics' Week, the director delivers this intense prison-set drama, about a young correctional officer who finds himself befriending — and possibly being positioned to replace — the resident executioner.
"Beyond the Mountains and Hills" (Eran Kolirin, Israel). The last time Kolirin screened one of his films in Un Certain Regard — with 2007 crowd-pleaser "The Band's Visit" — he went home with the FIPRESCI prize.
"Captain Fantastic" (Matt Ross, U.S.). In the lone Sundance premiere to crack official selection, Viggo Mortensen plays an anti-establishment dad who raises his children in an American forest, until his wife's death forces the family to engage with the capitalist society he abhors.
"Clash" (Mohamed Diab, Egypt). From the director of "Cairo 678," this drama takes place entirely inside an overcrowded police truck packed with pro- and anti-Muslim Brotherhood demonstrators after a massive protest following the events of July 3, 2013, as crowds celebrated the ouster of prexy Mohamed Morsi.
"The Dancer" (Stephanie Di Giusto, France). This 19th-century drama — and directorial debut — focuses on the life of American performer Loie Fuller, featuring two rising stars: French musician-turned-thesp Soko, who plays Fuller, and Lily Rose-Depp, who plays Isadora Duncan.
"The Disciple" (Kirill Serebrennikov, Russia). Last seen on the festival circuit in Venice, where his 2012 feature "Betrayal" bowed in competition, the Russian helmer studied physics before turning his attention to drama, dividing his attention between film, TV and theater.
"Dogs" (Bogdan Mirica, Romania). This debut feature concerns a city boy stuck trying to unload a patch of rural land inherited from his late grandfather, only to discover that the old man was once a local crime lord — which severely complicates his intention of selling the property, especially after a severed foot gives the local cop reason to retaliate on the gang.
"The Happiest Day in the Life of Olli Maki" (Juho Kuosmanen, Finland). Set in 1962 Helsinki, this black-and-white, comedy-laced drama follows the rise and fall of Finnish boxer Olli Maki, who fought the match of his life against the American world champion while obsessing about getting back with his girlfriend.
"Harmonium" (Fukada Koji, Japan). The director's sixth feature follows the owner of a small workshop in a Japanese country village whose tranquil family life is turned upside down after he hires an old acquaintance and takes him under his wing.
"Inversion" (Behnam Behzadi, Iran). With Tehran's air pollution at an all-time high, an obedient young woman must decide whether to leave the city with her ailing mother or challenge the decision and stay behind with a former sweetheart.
"The Long Night of Francisco Sanctis" (Andrea Testa, Argentina). Screening in Cannes by way of Buenos Aires' Bafici festival, this '70s-set adaptation of the Humberto Costantini novel concerns a man who must decide whether to help two people wanted by the military under Jorge Rafael Videla's dictatorship.
"Pericles the Black Man" (Stefano Mordini, Italy). Directed by Stefano Mordini ("Steel"), this noir — adapted from a cult Italian novel by Giuseppe Farrandino — stars Riccardo Scamarcio ("My Brother is an Only Child") as a slave-like hit man who disengages from the shackles of the mob world after meeting a woman.
"Personal Affairs" (Maha Haj, Israel). Little is known about this debut from the female Israeli director is one of seven first features in the selection.
"The Red Turtle" (Michael Dudok de Wit, Netherlands). Studio Ghibli's first international co-production is a creative collaboration between the Dutch-British director (an Oscar winner for his "Father and Daughter" short) and Isao Takahata. The multi-national film was scripted by "Bird People's" Pascale Ferran.
"The Stopover" (Delphine Coulin, Muriel Coulin, France). The sophomore feature from the directors of "17 Girls" follows two girls who stop over in Cyprus for three days on their way home from Afghanistan.
"The Transfiguration" (Michael O'Shea, U.S.). Another directorial debut, this one from an American director, the indie film was described by Fremaux as "a New York vampire story." "The Good Wife's" Eric Ruffin plays the blood-sucker in question alongside Chloe Levine.
"Gimme Danger" (Jim Jarmusch).
"Train to Busan" (Yeon Sang-ho)
"Le Cancre" (Paul Vecchiali, France).
"Exil" (Rithy Panh, France).
"A Chad Tragedy" (Mahamat-Saleh Haroun, Chad).
"The Last Beach" (Thanos Anastopoulos, Davide Del Degan, France).
"Last Days of Louis XIV" (Albert Serra, France).
(Justin Chang, John Hopewell, Nick Vivarelli contributed to this report) | {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaCommonCrawl"
} | 9,574 |
Lansing Mayor Andy Schor announces 2021 reelection campaign
LANSING — It's official: Andy Schor is running for another term as Lansing's mayor.
The 45-year-old kicked off his campaign this week, describing his platform as one of "inclusive growth."
"There's more work to do," he said during an interview. "My priority is growing the city ... (and) making sure that everyone benefits from that growth. It's jobs. It's human services. It's helping out those in need."
Schor will face off against his predecessor Virg Bernero, who did not seek reelection in 2017 after 12 years in office. City Council Member Patricia Spitzley, who was council president in 2019, hasn't made an announcement, although she told the Lansing City Pulse she is considering running.
Pandemic fallout could spell tough road ahead
Schor acknowledged challenges ahead as fallout from the COVID-19 pandemic continues to constrain city coffers.
Lansing laid off 36 police officers in the aftermath of the Great Recession, before Schor took office, and Schor said he hopes to avoid layoffs going forward. First-responder jobs should be the last thing to be cut, he said.
"Those are the folks right now that are helping," Schor said. "These are the frontline workers."
More: Amid calls for Andy Schor's resignation, Black former staffers allege city administration mistreated them
Schor supports police reforms, not defunding
Schor served as an Ingham County commissioner and a Democratic state representative before winning his first mayoral term in 2017.
Since then, he's faced controversy including calls for his resignation from the Lansing chapter of Black Lives Matter after Schor declined during a contentious town hall to commit to defunding the police department.
Schor said this week he doesn't support cutting the police budget or reducing the number of officers, but that he backs reforms like hiring more social workers who would assist with conflict resolution and calls involving mental illness.
"If someone calls 911, they expect the police officer to act right." Schor said. "We don't stand for police brutality here in Lansing. But they also expect an officer to be at their door if someone is breaking in or doing something wrong."
Schor touts diversity efforts
Last year, seven current and former Lansing staffers, including the city's former fire chief and former chief information officer, sued the city, alleging racial discrimination and a pattern of retaliation.
The city has denied those allegations and Schor cast racial equity as a campaign priority and says his cabinet is diverse.
He also pointed to the creation of a racial equity task force and touted changes like new guidelines intended to curb pretextual stops perceived as targeting people of color. Lansing police are now told not to pull people over for minor violations, such as cracked windshields, that do not directly affect public safety.
Lansing needs to keep its low-income residents from falling through the cracks in the wake of the pandemic, Schor said. He laid out a vision for a walkable city with more affordable and market-rate housing opportunities.
The state of Michigan, Lansing's largest employer, has ordered most of its staff to work from home, turning downtown Lansing into something approaching a ghost town. Schor says he's hopeful most state employees will return to in-person work, but that he's open to solutions for filling out the downtown, such as converting vacant office space into housing.
Lansing on verge of closing out retiree health care, Schor says
Any future spending plans will be constrained, however, by Lansing's ballooning legacy costs.
Lansing's unfunded pension and retiree health care costs are now estimated at more than $700 million.
The mayor reached a compromise to save approximately $3.5 million annually in retiree health care costs late last year after being blasted by unions for pushing another plan that would have saved an estimated $8 million annually. Schor had pursued the previous plan outside of collective bargaining, opening the city up to potential litigation from at least one union.
Lansing is on the verge of finalizing a new contract with firefighters that will eliminate city-sponsored retiree health care for new hires and replace it with health care savings accounts, Schor said Tuesday.
That change will eventually close out Lansing's retiree health care account, making a dent in unfunded liabilities. Lansing is already phasing out retiree health care for the rest of its bargaining units, as well as its non-unionized employees.
Candidates have until April 20 to file to run in the 2021 election, in which four City Council seats, city clerk and mayor will be on the ballot, all for four-year terms. The positions are non-partisan. but an Aug. 3 primary will to narrow the field before the Nov. 2 general election.
Contact reporter Sarah Lehr at slehr@lsj.com. Follow her on Twitter @SarahGLehr. | {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaCommonCrawl"
} | 2,213 |
\section{Introduction}
The progress in the creation of phase stabilized laser systems and the generation of short and ultrashort pulses in the
ultraviolet (UV) and extreme ultraviolet (XUV)
regime \cite{brabec_intense_2000,agostini_physics_2004} allows nowadays for the observation of electronic processes
on the femtosecond and even sub-femtosecond timescale in a time-resolved fashion \cite{scrinzi_attosecond_2006,krausz_attosecond_2009}.
Fundamental investigations include the mapping of the oscillating electrical field of a laser \cite{goulielmakis_direct_2004},
electron tunneling in strong fields \cite{uiberacker_attosecond_2007} or the direct observation of Auger decay in
the time domain \cite{drescher_time-resolved_2002}. Recently, processes down to a duration of several tens of attoseconds have been
demonstrated to be resolvable \cite{schultze_delay_2010}.
The major tool for the observation of fast processes since early days in physics is the \emph{streak-camera}.
Following its first mechanical realization by Wheatstone 1834 \cite{wheatstone1834} with $\mu$s resolution,
nowadays the sub-picosecond regime can be accessed with classical optoelectronic setups \cite{bradley1971,feng_x-ray_2007}.
To overcome the mechanical and electronic barriers for switching times, the answer was found in electrodynamics,
leading to a setup called light-driven streak camera \cite{kienberger_atomic_2004,itatani_attosecond_2002}:
Here, the temporal deflection of electrons is realized by the time varying vector potential of a laser field and
the triggering of the process is done by ultrashort ionization through attosecond XUV pulses
in pump-probe setups. A possibility to reach the zeptosecond regime in ultrahigh fields has recently
been proposed \cite{ipp_streaking_2011} theoretically.
An important application of the light-field driven streak camera is the characterization of (X)UV pump pulses
in the femtosecond \cite{fruhling_single-shot_2009} and sub-fs regime \cite{itatani_attosecond_2002}.
By means of photoionization of rare-gas target atoms the XUV pulse properties, such as duration, substructure and chirp,
are imprinted on a photoelectron distribution.
A time-varying streaking field deflects these electrons and maps the temporal
properties to a measurable energy spectrum.
Therefore, this procedure strongly relies on the precise
knowledge of the photon-to-electron conversion and, with that, a method to extract
the temporal pulse properties from the
streaked kinetic energy spectra of the electrons.
While for solely photoelectrons this mapping is agreed to be understood for atoms
\cite{itatani_attosecond_2002,fruhling_single-shot_2009} and atoms on surfaces \cite{krasovskii_spectral_2007,krasovskii_towards_2009},
the situation strongly differs if Auger decay is involved.
The radiationless decay of resonances, first described by Lise Meitner 1922 \cite{meitner_ueber_1922} and Pierre Auger 1925 \cite{auger_sur_1925},
is a fundamental correlation-driven many-body effect in quantum mechanics, covering atoms, solids,
quantum dots and molecules. The photoexcited inner-shell-hole is subject to spontaneous decay, transferring its
energy to an outer-shell electron, that leaves the ion with its excess energy.
The result is a doubly charged ion and two correlated electrons in the continuum.
Due to the spontaneous character of the hole decay, the Auger electron cannot carry information about the
pump pulse.
Nevertheless, in \cite{schuette_evidence_2011} it was demonstrated, utilizing the THz streak camera setup,
that the energy of the Auger electron depends on its release time, i.e. it carries an energetic chirp,
if the Auger electron is faster than the preceding photoelectron.
This could be verified using two independent experiments involving XUV photons from (i) the free electron Laser FLASH at DESY (Hamburg)
and (ii) a higher-harmonics generation (HHG) source \cite{schuette_electron_2011}.
While for (i) the ionizing pulse has a complicated structure, both
in time and energy, for (ii) chirp-free pulses with rather well-defined properties are expected.
Nevertheless, it was established experimentally that for both, (i) and (ii), the Auger electron's chirp
is present and has qualitatively the same properties.
The authors of \cite{schuette_evidence_2011} identified post-collision interaction (PCI)
as the responsible mechanism for the observed chirp, utilizing extensive molecular dynamics (MD) simulations
as well as an analytically solvable model.
PCI is a process, where a fast Auger electron can catch up with the slower photoelectron, which leads to a drastic change
of the screening of the ion's charge. This manifests itself in an energy exchange: the photoelectron loses
energy (increased binding), whereas the Auger electron is correspondingly accelerated (the binding potential becomes shielded).
Obviously, the net amount of transferred energy depends on the distance from the ion, the closer the
overtaking happens the stronger the effect.
Although widely discussed in the literature \cite{niehaus_analysis_1977,
ogurtsov_auger_1983, russek_post-collision_1986,kuchiev_resonant_1986,kuchiev_post-collision_1989,aberg_unified_1992}
the consequences of PCI for the temporal energy distribution remained unexplored.
In this paper, we extend the theory presented in \cite{schuette_evidence_2011} and give a detailed description of
field-assisted PCI (FA-PCI) using quantum and classical simulations as well as analytical theory.
The paper is organized as follows:
In the first part, Sec.~\ref{sec:tdse}, we demonstrate the presence of a chirp on the Auger electron energy by solving the time-dependent
Schr\"odinger equation (TDSE) for model systems and support the idea of PCI being the responsible mechanism.
To overcome the model character necessary for quantum calculations, we develop in Sec.~\ref{sec:semi-classics} a classical
simulation technique based on Monte-Carlo (MC) averaged molecular dynamics (MD). In Sec.~\ref{sec:analytic}, extending
the model of \cite{schuette_evidence_2011}, we present an analytical theory for the Auger line shape in the presence
of a slowly varying streaking field including
PCI effects and compare to TDSE as well as MC-MD simulations.
In Sec.~\ref{sec:params}, we investigate the influence of various pulse parameters and show, how the measurement of the
PCI-induced chirp may help to
improve the pulse characterization capabilities of light-field-driven streak camera setups.
The paper closes with a comment on recent experiments and an outlook on future investigations in Sec.~\ref{sec:conclusions}.
\section{Quantum theory of laser-assisted Auger decay}
\label{sec:tdse}
Starting point for the description of laser-assisted Auger decay (LAAD) on a quantum mechanical level
is the time-dependent Schr\"odinger equation (TDSE).
However, full quantum calculations of autoionization involve two or more electrons, which limits
them to model studies, see e.g. \cite{haan_numerical_1994}, or Helium \cite{hu_time-dependent_2005} on very
short time scales.
To overcome this ``brute-force`` approach we
use a generalization of Fano's theory \cite{fano_effects_1961} to the time-dependent case
developed in
\cite{kazansky_nonstationary_2005,kazansky_triple_2006,kazansky_time-dependent_2009} and references therein.
The notations follow \cite{kazansky_time-dependent_2009}, an analogous derivation based on quantum field theory
can be found in \cite{buth_theory_2009}. A similar theoretical approach to time-resolved Fano resonances
is developed in \cite{wickenhauser_theoretical_2004,wickenhauser_time_2005}.
The time evolution of the outgoing photoelectron after excitation with an XUV pulse is governed by
a set of coupled TDSEs
(throughout atomic units, $m_e=|e|=\hbar=4\pi\epsilon_0 \equiv1$, are used):
\begin{widetext}
\begin {eqnarray}
i \frac{\partial}{\partial t} \phi_d(\boldsymbol{r},t) &= & \left ( \hat{H}_1(\boldsymbol{r}) - i\frac{\Gamma_A}{2} - z E_L(t) \right ) \phi_d(\boldsymbol{r},t) - z E_X(t) \phi_0(\boldsymbol{r}) e^{-i \epsilon_0 t}
\label{eq:systdse-1} \; , \\
i \frac{\partial}{\partial t} \phi_{\epsilon} (\boldsymbol{r},t) &= &\left (\hat{H}_2(\boldsymbol{r}) - E_A + \frac{1}{2} [\boldsymbol{k}_A - \boldsymbol{A}_L(t)]^2 - z E_L(t) \right) \phi_{\epsilon}(\boldsymbol{r},t) + V \phi_d(\boldsymbol{r},t) \;.
\label{eq:systdse-2}
\end {eqnarray}
\end{widetext}
Eq.~\eqref{eq:systdse-1} describes the photoelectron excited from the initial orbital $\phi_0$ with
energy $\epsilon_0$ by a laser pulse $E_X(t)$. It moves in a potential of a singly charged ion, included in $\hat{H}_1(\boldsymbol{r})$, and the streaking field
$E_L(t)$. In other words, $\phi_d(t)$ describes the photoelectron before decay of the resonance with decay constant $\Gamma_A$.
After Auger decay with excess energy $E_A$, being the energy difference between the outer shell electron and the core hole,
the photoelectron's movement in the potential of a doubly charged ion,
contained in $\hat{H}_2$, is governed by Eq.~\eqref{eq:systdse-2} coupled to Eq.~\eqref{eq:systdse-1} via the Auger
decay matrix element $V$, which is assumed to be constant in energy and space~\cite{kazansky_time-dependent_2009}.
By setting $\hat{H}_1=\hat{H}_2$, post-collision effects due to changed screening of the ion's charge
can be artificially excluded from the calculations.
In fact, Eq.~\eqref{eq:systdse-2} represents a set of equations for all possible energies of the Auger electron
$\epsilon=\boldsymbol{k}_A^2/2$. The vector potential $\boldsymbol{A}_L(t)$ associated with the electrical field $\boldsymbol{E}_L(t)$,
\begin{equation}
\boldsymbol{A}_L(t)=-\int_{-\infty}^{t} \; \textup{d}\tau E_L(\tau) \;,
\end{equation}
is chosen to vanish for long times.
Both laser pulses are linearly polarized in $z$ direction with Gaussian envelopes
and coupled to Eqs.~\eqref{eq:systdse-1} and~\eqref{eq:systdse-2} in dipole approximation.
The streaking pulse with duration $\tau_L$, phase shift $\varphi_L$ and frequency $\omega_L$ is centered at zero,
\begin{equation}
\boldsymbol{E}_L(t)= \hat{e}_z E^0_L \exp\left(-\frac{t^2}{2 \tilde{\tau}_L^2} \right) \cos \left[ \omega_Lt+\varphi_L\right] \;.
\label{eq:EL}
\end{equation}
The XUV pulse is delayed by $t_X$ with photon energy $\omega_X$ and duration $\tau_X$,
\begin{equation}
\boldsymbol{E}_X(t)=\hat{e}_z E^0_X \exp\left(-\frac{(t-t_X)^2}{2 \tilde{\tau}_X^2} \right ) \cos \left [\omega_X (t-t_X) \right] \;.
\label{eq:EX}
\end{equation}
Note: throughout this paper, all pulse durations are given as
full width at half maximum (FWHM) and will be denoted by $\tau_{X,L}=2\sqrt{2 \ln 2}\tilde{\tau}_{X,L}$.
The model, Eqs.~\eqref{eq:systdse-1} and \eqref{eq:systdse-2}, has been successfully applied to the recapture of photoelectrons due to PCI
\cite{hergenhahn_population_2006,hergenhahn_study_2005}
and to (angle-resolved) sideband structures in LAAD \cite{kazansky_sideband_2009,kazansky_gross_2010}, which
appear if the duration of the pump pulse is comparable to or longer than the period of the streaking field.
In this work, we use $\tau_X\ll 1/\omega_L$ required for streak cameras.
\subsection{Simplifications}
Up to now, the above-mentioned previous works considered short pulses in the (sub-) fs regime involving infrared (IR)
streaking pulses. The characterization of pump pulses longer than $20\,$fs, as they are produced e.g. by free electron lasers,
requires deflecting fields based on
THz radiation \cite{schuette_evidence_2011,fruhling_single-shot_2009} and, therefore,
requires the propagation of Eqs.~\eqref{eq:systdse-1} and \eqref{eq:systdse-2} over a duration of several picoseconds.
In order to describe the involved processes on a time-dependent quantum mechanical level
drastic simplifications are needed to keep the computational costs manageable.
As a first step, we restrict our investigations to a one-dimensional (1D) version, i.e. consider
wave functions of the form $\phi_d(x,t)$ and $\phi_{\epsilon}(x,t)$, neglecting any angular momenta
and distributions.
This leads to the model Hamiltonians $\hat{H}_1(x)$ and $\hat{H}_2(x)$ which are chosen to account for the correct
asymptotics of the binding potentials of the remaining ion,
\begin{equation}
\hat{H}_i(x)=-\frac{1}{2} \frac{\partial^2}{\partial x^2} + \frac{Z_i}{\sqrt{x^2+\kappa^2}} \;,
\label{eq:1d-hamiltonian}
\end{equation}
with $Z_1=-1$ and $Z_2=-2$. The Coulomb singularity appearing in 1D systems
has been regularized in a standard procedure by $\kappa$, e.g. \cite{haan_numerical_1994,su_model_1991,bauch_electronic_2010},
assuring a finite binding potential at the position of the ion.
Still, to keep track of the photoelectrons traveling with $25$ to $80\,$eV in the continuum, enormous computational
grids are needed. To overcome this point, we introduce a scaling procedure of all relevant temporal quantities
by a factor $\gamma$, which maps the (not-manageable) physical system to a smaller-sized analog, which can
be tackled by the quantum simulations:
\begin{equation}
\Gamma_A^*= \gamma \Gamma_A, \; \omega_L^* = \gamma\omega_L, \; \tau_X^*=\frac{\tau_X}{\gamma},\; \tau_L^*=\frac{\tau_L}{\gamma} \; .
\label{eq:scaling}
\end{equation}
In order to keep the relevant streaking conditions comparable, the intensity of the streaking field is chosen such
that the ponderomotive potential
$U_p=E_0^2/4 \omega_L^2$ of the streaking field is kept constant when $\gamma$ is varied.
The influence of this scaling procedure is discussed in detail below.
\subsection{Solution of Eqs.~\eqref{eq:systdse-1} and \eqref{eq:systdse-2}}
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=8.5cm]{plot_tdse_lines.pdf}
\caption{(color online) Auger line shapes obtained by solving Eqs.~\eqref{eq:systdse-1} and~\eqref{eq:systdse-2} for a
series of time delays $t_X$. Shown is the case including PCI (blue solid lines, blue area) and the
case neglecting PCI (red dashed lines), i.e. $\hat{H}_2=\hat{H}_1$ in Eqs.~(\ref{eq:systdse-1}, \ref{eq:systdse-2}) for
a $16.9\,$fs single-cycle ($\varphi_L=\pi/2$) streaking pulse with a frequency of $\omega_L=33\,$THz and $U_p=98.8\,$meV.
The $2.83\;$fs XUV pulse has a photon energy of $91\;$eV.
The Auger decay constant was set to $\Gamma_A=950\,$meV at an Auger energy of $E_A=34.27\,$eV thus resembling
THz-streaking of the Xe \emph{NOO} transition scaled by a factor of $\gamma=10$ (see text for details).
Note: the lines neglecting PCI have been shifted towards higher energy by $0.5\,$eV for better comparison.}
\label{fig:tdse-lines}
\end{figure}
We solve the 1D analogs of Eqs.~\eqref{eq:systdse-1} and~\eqref{eq:systdse-2} employing a finite-element discrete variable
representation (FE-DVR) \cite{rescigno_numerical_2000, schneider_parallel_2006}
and an independent finite-difference based method on large spatial grids allowing for the propagation of several tens of fs
without reflections at the grid edges. All considered observables have been carefully checked
for convergence with respect to the numerical discretizations.
Throughout this paper, two transitions motivated by the experiment are considered,
the \emph{NOO} transition in Xenon and the \emph{MNN} transition in Krypton \cite{schuette_evidence_2011}.
Let us start with Xenon.
For that, the eigenstate of $\hat{H}_1$ ($\kappa=0.1935$)
with a ground state energy of $E_p=-66\,$eV is used for XUV excitation with a photon energy of $w_X=91\,$eV
which corresponds to a kinetic energy of $w_X+E_p=25\;$eV for the photoelectron.
The Auger electron energy is chosen to match $E_A=34\,$eV, being faster than the photoelectron wave packet and thus giving rise to PCI effects.
An example of the resulting Auger electron line shapes for a full scan of time delays $t_X$ is shown in Fig.~\ref{fig:tdse-lines}
for a streaking with $33\,$THz and $U_p=98.8\,$meV and a pump pulse duration of $2.83\,$fs, thus scaled by a factor of $\gamma=10$
in comparison with the THz streak camera in \cite{fruhling_single-shot_2009}.
Analogously, the atomic parameters, matching the Xe \emph{NOO}
transition, are scaled by the same factor according to Eq.~\eqref{eq:scaling}.
Each individual Auger line is shown for two cases: including PCI (blue solid lines) and neglecting PCI (red dashed lines).
For both cases, the typical streaking picture of the time-dependent momentum transfer arises, with a
general shift of the PCI result towards higher energies ($0.5\;$eV), which is compensated in Fig.~\ref{fig:tdse-lines} for better
visibility.
Careful inspection of the line shapes reveals, that for falling slope of $A(t)$ ($t_X<0$) the lines are higher and
of smaller width than for the case of rising slope of $A(t)$ ($t_X>0$), cf. pci vs. nopci curves. Note, that the
energy shift is proportional to $-A(t)$.
The lines corresponding to the case without PCI have the same height and width for positive and negative time delays.
This observation already indicates a chirp in Auger electron emission, i.e.~a
time-dependent variation of the energy of the Auger electron manifesting itself in an asymmetry with respect to the direction of the slope of $A$.
In the following, this result will be investigated in detail and the underlying physical mechanism will be identified.
\subsection{Analysis of the TDSE results}
\label{ssec:tdse-results}
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=0.49\textwidth]{plot_scaling_tdse_auger.pdf}
\caption{(color online) FWHM of Auger lines (right axis) obtained by solving Eqs.~\eqref{eq:systdse-1} and \eqref{eq:systdse-2} for different scaling factors
$\gamma$, cf. Eq.~\eqref{eq:scaling}, of the Xe \emph{NOO} transition in a $3.3\,$THz streaking field
keeping $U_p=98.8\,$meV constant.
The natural line width $\Gamma_A$ has been subtracted for each set of parameters for better
comparison. The maximum of the line (proportional to $-A(t)$, gray line with filled circles labeled by $E_{\textup{max}}$, left axis) and
the case neglecting PCI (black dashed line) are shown for $\gamma=10$.
For $\gamma=10$, parameters are the same as in Fig.~\ref{fig:tdse-lines}.}
\label{fig:scaling}
\end{figure}
Let us first discuss the influence of the scaling procedure \eqref{eq:scaling}, shown in Fig.~\ref{fig:scaling}.
We point out, that each value of $\gamma$ corresponds to a certain physical system, but our aim
is to describe experiments based on the Xe \emph{NOO} transition.
The width displayed in Fig.~\ref{fig:scaling} is extracted from line shape data by interpolation utilizing cubic splines and
subsequent finding of the maximum and the corresponding FWHM.
For better comparison, the $x$-axis is shifted by the Auger decay time $\Gamma_A^{-1}$ for each data set
and the width was modified
by $\sqrt{\sigma^2-\Gamma_A^2}$ to account for the different natural line width in each set of parameters.
The first observation is a strong asymmetry in the FWHM for all values
of $\gamma$ with respect to the slope of $A(t)$. Note: the displayed curve labeled $E_{\textup{max}}$
shows the energy corresponding to the maximum of the Auger line, which is proportional to $-A(t)$.
Approaching the physical system of Xe \emph{NOO} ($\gamma=1$), the asymmetry gets smaller, but is still present
for the smallest considered value of $\gamma$.
For comparison, also the case neglecting PCI is shown for $\gamma=10$, where no
such asymmetry is observed and the typical chirp-free streaking
behavior \cite{itatani_attosecond_2002} is retrieved:
largest width (and corresponding time resolution of the streak camera) occurs at maximum slope
of $A(t)$. Note: for single-cycle pulses used here, this does not coincide with zero transitions
of $A(t)$ (electrical field maxima).
At the maximum of $|A(t)|$, as expected, a pronounced minimum can be observed.
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=8.5cm]{plot_tdse_scan_pevel.pdf}
\caption{(color online) FWHM of Auger lines (right axis) for different photon energies $\omega_X$ of the XUV pulse of $28\,$fs
duration. All other parameters are the same as in Fig.~\ref{fig:scaling} for the case $\gamma=10$.
The energy of the maximum of the Auger line and the case neglecting PCI
(black dashed line) are given for $\omega_X=91\,$eV. The time dependence of the
electrical field $E(t)$ is sketched by the gray dotted line.}
\label{fig:tdse-pevel}
\end{figure}
Since the PCI effect originates from the changed screening of the remaining ions' charge during overtaking of
the photoelectron by the Auger electron, it strongly depends on the velocity of the photoelectron, cf. Sec.~\ref{ssec:lineshapes-pci}.
Therefore, the observed asymmetry
should be more pronounced for slow photoelectrons, where the overtaking happens in close vicinity to the ion \cite{schuette_evidence_2011}, and should vanish
for fast ones, where the Auger electron cannot catch up with the photoelectron.
Fig.~\ref{fig:tdse-pevel} shows the FWHM of the Auger line of the Xe \emph{NOO} transition ($\gamma=10$) for a set of
photon energies $\omega_X$.
As is clearly seen, the strongest asymmetry is observed for slow photoelectrons (green curve with triangles)
whereas the increase of the photoelectron's energy leads to a decrease of the observed asymmetry in the FWHM and approaches the
case neglecting PCI (black dashed line), thus supporting the idea that PCI is responsible for the energetic chirp in Auger emission.
We note that, although for $\omega_X=126\,$eV rather fast photoelectrons ($47\,$eV in comparison to $35\,$eV Auger electron energy) are emitted (red curve),
still an asymmetry is observed.
This originates from a rather broad distribution of the photoelectron energy.
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=8.5cm]{plot_tdse_scan_duration.pdf}
\caption{(color online) FWHM of Auger line (right axis) for different XUV pulse durations $\tau_X^{\textup{FW}}$.
The maximum of the Auger line (proportional to $-A(t)$, filled circles) is shown for $28\,$fs.
The time dependence of the electrical field $E(t)$ is sketched by the gray dotted line.
Parameters are the same as in Fig.~\ref{fig:scaling} for $\gamma=10$.}
\label{fig:tdse-duration}
\end{figure}
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=8.5cm]{plot_tdse_scan_up.pdf}
\caption{(color online) The same as Fig.~\ref{fig:tdse-duration} but for different ponderomotive potentials
$U_p$ of the streaking field at a fixed XUV pulse duration of $28\,$fs ($\gamma=10$).
The graph of the maximum of the line corresponds to $U_p=98.8\,$meV.}
\label{fig:tdse-up}
\end{figure}
We can now analyze the dependence of the streaked lines upon various pulse parameters.
Those with most influence on the streaking mechanism are the ponderomotive potential $U_p$
of the streaking field and the duration of the pump pulse, $\tau_X$.
In Fig.~\ref{fig:tdse-duration} the dependence of the Auger line width of the Xe \emph{NOO} transition
is shown for a set of XUV pulse durations for a scaling parameter of $\gamma=10$.
For larger pulse durations, a longer period of the slope of the streaking vector potential is
accessible, consequently leading to a larger overall width, which is in accordance with the
typical streaking mechanism. However, the asymmetry with respect to the sign of the slope of the vector
potential is more pronounced for shorter pulse durations ($2.8\,$fs). This can be attributed to
the fact, that for longer pulse durations, the line width is dominated by the streaking part and for
shorter pulse durations the chirp becomes dominant, which will be discussed in detail in Sec.~\ref{sec:params}.
For different ponderomotive potentials of the streaking field, shown in Fig.~\ref{fig:tdse-up}, a similar
picture arises: the larger the ponderomotive potential, the larger is the streaking contribution leading to
a relative decrease of the observed asymmetry. However, we note that for very small $U_p$ the
line width asymmetry must vanish because of the vanishing vector potential.
\subsection{Auger electron and photoelectron coincidence spectra}
\label{ssec:tdse-pe}
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=8.5cm]{plot_tdse_pe_ae_spec.pdf}
\caption{(color) Coincidence energy spectra for Auger and photoelectrons for selected time delays $t_X$ calculated by solving Eqs.~\eqref{eq:systdse-1}
and \eqref{eq:systdse-2}. The integrated photoelectron (Auger electron) distribution is plotted with red dashed (blue solid) lines. Parameters
are the same as in Fig.~\ref{fig:tdse-lines} (Xe \emph{NOO} with $\gamma=10$).}
\label{fig:tdse-pe-ae}
\end{figure}
Additionally to the individual kinetic energy spectra of the Auger electrons, Eqs.~\eqref{eq:systdse-1} and \eqref{eq:systdse-2} also allow
for the calculation of coincidence energy spectra of both involved electrons. This gives more detailed insight into their correlated motion.
An example for the Xe \emph{NOO} transition ($\gamma=10$) is given in Fig.~\ref{fig:tdse-pe-ae} for five selected
time delays $t_X$.
All spectra are dominated by a diagonal line from top left to bottom right, which indicates an energy correlation between photoelectron and Auger electron. This is
due to an energy exchange between both and governed by energy conservation. For the field-free cases ($\pm 144\,$fs) and the maximum of the
vector potential ($0\,$fs) a rather sharp spectrum is observed, whereas at the (approximate) zero transitions of the vector potential ($\pm 60\,$fs)
the streaking mechanism gives broad energy distributions, for both, the photoelectron and the Auger electron.
In addition to the integrated Auger electron spectra (blue, solid lines), the corresponding photoelectron
distribution is plotted with (red) dashed lines. A careful inspection reveals, that the prominent asymmetry with respect to the
slope of the vector potential ($\pm 60\,$fs) observed for the Auger electron, is not present in the photoelectron spectra.
This indicates, that the photoelectron distribution
carries no energetic chirp. A more detailed description and a simple picture for this are given in Sec.~\ref{ssec:pe-distribution}.
\section{Semi-classical simulations}
\label{sec:semi-classics}
To proceed further and compare quantitatively with current experiments, it
is crucial to take into account the 3D geometry of the atom and the true
time scales, i.e. to avoid the scaling procedure by $\gamma$.
Since this is not possible utilizing TDSE simulations, it is necessary to
turn to a (semi-) classical description of FA-PCI including both electrons,
the ion and the streaking field.
Our classical method describing PCI is motivated by successful previous
models for the field-free case \cite{niehaus_analysis_1977}.
The classical dynamics of both electrons is governed by Newton's equations ($m_e=1$),
\begin{eqnarray}
\ddot{\boldsymbol{r}}_P(t) & = & \boldsymbol{F}_P(\boldsymbol{r}_P,\boldsymbol{r}_A,t)\;, \nonumber \\
\ddot{\boldsymbol{r}}_A(t) & = & \boldsymbol{F}_A(\boldsymbol{r}_P,\boldsymbol{r}_A,t) \; ,
\label{eq:newton}
\end{eqnarray}
where the photoelectron (Auger electron) is denoted by index P (A).
The propagation is split into two phases: (i)
before Auger decay ($t_{P_i}\leq t<t_{A_i}$) and (ii) after Auger decay ($t_{A_i}<t<t_d$), where $t_d$ is the time at the detector, which determines
the corresponding forces in Eq.~\eqref{eq:newton}:
\begin{itemize}
\item {\bf Phase (i) [$t_{P_i} \leq t < t_{A_i}$]: }
\begin{equation}
\boldsymbol{F}_P(t)=-\nabla V^+(\boldsymbol{r}_P) - \boldsymbol{E}_L(t)
\label{eq:force_1}
\end{equation}
\item {\bf Phase (ii) [$t\geq t_{A_i}$]:}
\begin{eqnarray}
\boldsymbol{F}_P(t) & = & -\nabla V^{2+}(\boldsymbol{r}_P) - \boldsymbol{E}_L(t) - \nabla V_{e-e}(\boldsymbol{r}_A, \boldsymbol{r}_P), \nonumber \\
\boldsymbol{F}_A(t) & = & -\nabla V^{2+}(\boldsymbol{r}_A) - \boldsymbol{E}_L(t) - \nabla V_{e-e}(\boldsymbol{r}_P, \boldsymbol{r}_A) .
\label{eq:force_2}
\end{eqnarray}
\end{itemize}
For (i) only the photoelectron is propagated in the combined field
of a singly charged ion, $V^+(\boldsymbol{r})$, and the streaking field, $\boldsymbol{E}_L(t)$.
In phase (ii) both electrons experience the potential of a doubly charged ion, $V^{2+}(\boldsymbol{r})$,
the streaking field, and their binary interaction $V_{e-e}(\boldsymbol{r_1},\boldsymbol{r}_2)$.
All interaction potentials are of pure Coulomb type:
\begin{eqnarray}
V^+(\boldsymbol{r}) = -\frac{1}{|\boldsymbol{r}|}, \; V^{2+}(\boldsymbol{r}) & =&-\frac{2}{|\boldsymbol{r}|} \\
\textup{and} \;\;\; V_{e-e} (\boldsymbol{r}_1,\boldsymbol{r}_2) &=& \frac{1}{|\boldsymbol{r}_1-\boldsymbol{r}_2|} \; .
\label{eq:potentials}
\end{eqnarray}
By setting $V_{e-e}\equiv 0$ and additionally considering $V^+\equiv V^{2+}$, all e-e interactions and PCI effects
can be turned off (denoted by ''neglecting e-e interaction`` in the following).
The set of equations~\eqref{eq:newton} is completed by associated initial conditions
\begin{eqnarray}
\boldsymbol{\dot{r}}_P(t_{P_i}) & = & \boldsymbol{p}_{P_i} \;\; \textup{and} \;\;\; \boldsymbol{r}_{P}(t_{P_i})=\boldsymbol{r}_{P_i} \; ,
\label{eq:initial-conditions-P} \\
\boldsymbol{\dot{r}}_A(t_{A_i}) & = & \boldsymbol{p}_{A_i} \;\; \textup{and} \;\;\; \boldsymbol{r}_{A}(t_{A_i})=\boldsymbol{r}_{A_i} \; .
\label{eq:initial-conditions-A}
\end{eqnarray}
\subsection{Initial condition sampling}
\label{ssec:initial-condition-sampling}
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=8.5cm]{plot_time_overview.pdf}
\caption{Temporal parameters and electron distributions: the XUV pulse is centered at $t_X$ with a FWHM
duration of $\tau_X$. At $t_{P_i}$ during the pulse the photoelectron
is excited which triggers Auger decay at a time instant $t_{A_i}$.
The measurement is performed long after the pulses and the decay are over, at time
$t_d$ ($t_d \rightarrow \infty$).}
\label{fig:times}
\end{figure}
To reproduce the quantum mechanical nature of photoionization and Auger decay in our classical model, we developed
a Monte Carlo (MC) sampling procedure for the initial conditions \eqref{eq:initial-conditions-P}
and \eqref{eq:initial-conditions-A}.
During the XUV pulse, the photoelectron is released with the probability (proportional to the instantaneous intensity of the XUV pulse, $\propto E_X^2$)
\begin{equation}
\mathcal{P}_{T_P}(\tau_i)=\frac{1}{\sqrt{\pi}\tau_X}\exp\left(-\frac{\tau_i^2}{\tau_X^2} \right )\; ,
\label{eq:xuv-time-distribution}
\end{equation}
which creates the core hole at a time $\tau_i=t_{P_i}-t_X$.
The vacancy is filled after the time $\tau_A=t_{A_i}-t_{P_i} > 0$ by lifting the Auger electron into the continuum
according to the decay law (probability density, see Fig.~\ref{fig:times} for notations)
\begin{equation}
\mathcal{P}_{T_A}(\tau_A)=\Gamma_A e^{-\Gamma_A \tau_A} \; .
\label{eq:Auger-decay-law}
\end{equation}
The kinetic energy distribution of the photoelectron follows a Gaussian distribution,
\begin{equation}
\mathcal{P}_{E_P}(E_{P_i})=\frac{1}{\sqrt{2 \pi}\sigma_X} \exp \left (- \frac{({E_{P_i}}-E_{P_0})^2}{2 \sigma_X^2}\right )\;,
\label{eq:photoelectron-energy}
\end{equation}
with the spectral width $\sigma_X$ centered around the energy
$E_{P_0}=\omega_X-I_p$, with the ionization potential of the core electron $I_p$.
The (undisturbed) line shape of the Auger electron with mean energy $E_A$ associated with Eq.~\eqref{eq:Auger-decay-law} is a Lorentzian distribution
\begin{equation}
\mathcal{P}_{E_A}(E_{A_i})=\frac{\Gamma_A/2\pi}{ (E_{A_i}-E_{A})^2+\frac{1}{4}\Gamma_A^2} \; .
\label{eq:Auger-energy}
\end{equation}
With that, the absolute values of the initial momenta are set by Eqs.~\eqref{eq:photoelectron-energy} and
\eqref{eq:Auger-energy} to
\begin{equation}
|\boldsymbol{p}_{P_i}|=\sqrt{2 E_{P_i}} \;\; \textup{and} \;\; |\boldsymbol{p}_{A_i}|=\sqrt{2 E_{A_i}} \; .
\label{eq:initial-momenta}
\end{equation}
For small initial distances $r_{P_i}$ and $r_{A_i}$ of the electrons from the ion, it is important to take into account the remaining
finite binding potential at the point of appearance of the electrons,
$V^+(\boldsymbol{r}_{P_i})$ and $V^{2+}(\boldsymbol{r}_{A_i})$,
to assure their correct asymptotic momenta on the detector.
Entering as a free parameter in our model, we carefully checked the influence of different values of $r_{P_i}$ and $r_{A_i}$
ranging from $1$ to $20$ (in units of the Bohr radius) and found no significant change of the results.
The directions of $\boldsymbol{r}_{P_i}$ and $\boldsymbol{r}_{A_i}$ as well as of $\boldsymbol{p}_{P_i}$ and $\boldsymbol{p}_{A_i}$
are given by the quantum mechanical angular distributions of the associated initial state, approximated by
\begin{equation}
\mathcal{P}_{P/A}(\varphi)=\frac{1}{4\pi}\left[1+ \beta_{P/A} (3\cos^2 \varphi -1) \right]
\label{eq:angular-distribution}
\end{equation}
with the asymmetry parameter $\beta$, being available in the literature, e.g. \cite{snell_angular_2000}.
We note as a technical aspect, that sphere point picking \cite{wolfram_sphere} is crucial for the correct MC sampling of
Eq.~\eqref{eq:angular-distribution} to maintain the correct uniform distribution of points on a sphere.
\subsection{Extraction of observables}
We propagate Eq.~\eqref{eq:newton} with initial conditions \eqref{eq:initial-conditions-P} and
\eqref{eq:initial-conditions-A}, randomly distributed according to Eqs.~(\ref{eq:xuv-time-distribution}-
\ref{eq:angular-distribution}), utilizing a velocity Verlet algorithm
with an adaptive time step size control, see e.g. \cite{ott_md_2010}.
This method will be called ''Monte-Carlo Molecular Dynamics`` (MC-MD) simulations in the following
(MD refers to the classical propagation of both interacting electrons leaving the atom).
For each run, the final momenta $\boldsymbol{p}_{P_f}$ and $\boldsymbol{p}_{A_f}$
of typically $10^6$--$10^7$ trajectories are recorded and sorted in angle- and energy-resolved
histograms until convergence is reached.
The Auger electron kinetic energy spectra are then obtained by integrating over a detector angle element
of $12.5^\circ$, typical for experiments, around the field polarization axis $\hat{e}_z$.
Two opposite detection directions
are possible, determined by the direction of $\boldsymbol{A}$. We will only show results for
the detector with positive energy shift at the maximum of the single-cycle vector potential;
the second detector gives the same results, but for changed sign
in $\boldsymbol{A}$. In experiments it is often favorable to consider two opposing detectors
to assure the same streaking conditions \cite{schuette_evidence_2011}.
Post-processing of the Auger line shapes is performed similar to the TDSE case, cf. Sec.~\ref{ssec:tdse-results}.
Additionally, as in the previous part, we restrict ourselves to the case of Auger electrons,
the analysis of the photoelectrons can be performed in a similar way.
\subsection{MC-MD-Results}
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=8.5cm]{plot_md_Krlines.pdf}
\caption{(color online) Auger line shapes of the Kr \emph{MNN} transition for a set of time delays $t_X$ in a $1\,$THz
single cycle streaking field with $U_p=80\,$meV for a XUV pulse duration of $28\,$fs at a photon energy of $97\,$eV.
Results are obtained by MC averaging of MD trajectories. Shown is the case including photoelectron-Auger electron interactions (blue
solid lines) and neglecting e-e interactions (red dashed lines). Note: the latter lines are shifted by $100\,$meV towards higher energy for clarity. }
\label{fig:md-lines}
\end{figure}
We may now drop the scaling procedure \eqref{eq:scaling} introduced for TDSE simulations and restore the
true time constants. The result for a
full scan of time delays for the Krypton \emph{MNN} transition in a $1\,$THz streaking field with
a ponderomotive potential of $80\,$meV is shown in Fig.~\ref{fig:md-lines} for the cases (i) including
(blue solid lines) and (ii) neglecting (red dashed lines) e-e interactions. A similar picture as for the TDSE
simulations, cf. Fig.~\ref{fig:tdse-lines}, arises. A prominent asymmetry with respect to positive
and negative time delays, i.~e.~$\dot{A}(t)|_{t=t_X} \equiv \dot{A}_P>0$ and $\dot{A}_P<0$ respectively, can be found for (i) which
completely vanishes for (ii). Note: again, the lines with PCI effects excluded are shifted towards
higher energy by $100\,$meV for better
comparison. The shift is smaller compared to Fig.~\ref{fig:tdse-lines} due to the fact that $\gamma=10$
overestimates PCI in the case of the TDSE simulations.
The FWHM and position of the line for the Xe \emph{NOO} and Kr \emph{MNN} decays are shown in Fig.~\ref{fig:md-Kr-Xe}.
At the considered photon energies of $91\,$eV for the former and $97\,$eV for the latter, photoelectron energies
of $24\,$eV and $2.6\,$eV at comparable Auger electron energies of $34\,$eV and $40\,$eV are observed.
Due to the slow photoelectron, for Kr a dramatic increase of PCI in comparison to Xe is expected,
which is connected with a stronger chirp on the Auger electron's energy.
This is confirmed by our calculations (red solid lines vs. blue dashed lines).
If e-e interactions are neglected, similar line shapes and widths are observed for rising and falling
flank of the vector potential (black dotted line). These observations are in qualitative agreement with
TDSE simulations discussed in Fig.~\ref{fig:tdse-pevel} and confirm that PCI is the origin for the Auger electron's chirp.
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=8.5cm]{plot_md_Kr_Xe.pdf}
\caption{(color online) FWHM of the Auger lines (right axis) of the Xe \emph{NOO} and Kr \emph{MNN} transitions calculated
utilizing MC-MD simulations.
For Xe (Kr) the photon energy of $91\,$eV ($97\,$eV) leads to a photoelectron kinetic energy of $24\,$eV ($2.6\,$eV).
All other parameters are the sames as in Fig.~\ref{fig:md-lines}. The position of the maximum of the line, $E_{\textup{max}}$ for
both cases is shown in gray. The case neglecting e-e interactions for Kr is given by the black dotted line.}
\label{fig:md-Kr-Xe}
\end{figure}
\subsection{Comparison with TDSE}
By construction, the MD simulations neglect any quantum effects in the electron dynamics, such as coherence, interference and spin.
To test the above-introduced technique, a detailed comparison of the line shapes
calculated utilizing MD and TDSE methods for three different
time delays is presented in Fig.~\ref{fig:tdse-3dmd-comparison}.
The Auger electron spectrum of the Xe \emph{NOO} transition, necessarily scaled by a factor of $\gamma=10$ for
both simulations, is given for $\dot{A}_P<0$ (left), $\dot{A}_P>0$ (center) and $\dot{A}_P=0$ (right)
for situations including (solid lines) and neglecting (dashed lines) PCI.
For better comparison, the Auger spectra obtained from TDSE and MD simulations have both been renormalized.
This rescaling is necessary due to the
small XUV ionization cross section, which has been neglected in the classical simulations.
As a first observation, the line shapes obtained by MD simulations (bottom) are slightly broadened in comparison
to the TDSE (top). This can be attributed to the averaging over the finite detector
acceptance angle of $12.5^\circ$ in the 3D MD calculations. Here, trajectories are collected, which
have been streaked with smaller amplitude due to their initial deviation (angular distribution) from
the field-polarization axis.
For both types of simulations, the line for $\dot{A}_P>0$ is significantly broader than for $\dot{A}_P<0$
which completely vanishes if PCI is turned off. Furthermore, both methods reproduce a similar PCI-induced
shift of the line to higher energies. Thus the general trends as well as the underlying mechanism
for the description of the asymmetry are correctly captured by the MD model and quantum effects in the electron propagation play
no dominant role for the line width in the considered excitation regimes.
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=8.5cm]{plot_cf_tdse_3dmd.pdf}
\caption{(color online) Line shapes of the Xe \emph{NOO} transition ($\gamma=10$) at three different
time delays $t_X$, corresponding to the FWHM maxima (see curve in Fig.~\ref{fig:tdse-pevel} for $91\,$eV) and $t_X=0$, for
streaking with $U_p=98.8\,$meV. Results from TDSE simulations (top row) and MC averaged MD simulations
(bottom row) are given. The cases including PCI (blue solid lines)
and neglecting PCI (red dashed lines) are compared for falling (left), rising (center) and zero
(right) slope of $A(t)$.}
\label{fig:tdse-3dmd-comparison}
\end{figure}
\section{Analytical model for Auger line shapes }
\label{sec:analytic}
In the previous sections, we have shown, utilizing TDSE and MD simulations,
that Auger emission is chirped if PCI is involved which has a prominent impact on the line shapes
in external laser fields.
To get deeper insight in the underlying physics, we derive closed expressions
for the line shape of the Auger electron in the streaking field including
PCI effects based on a classical 1D model.
\subsection{Time-to-energy mapping}
The key mechanism of streaking is the mapping between a temporal process and the measurable
energy or momentum distribution.
For Auger electrons, the temporal distribution follows the decay law, Eq.~\eqref{eq:Auger-decay-law}.
The corresponding probability to find the Auger electron in the continuum at a time $t$ is given by
\begin{equation}
\mathcal{P}_A(t) = \int_{0}^t \: \textup{d}\tau_A \mathcal{P}_{T_A}(\tau_A) \; ,
\label{eq:time-distribution}
\end{equation}
which approaches unity for long times (see Sec.~\ref{ssec:initial-condition-sampling} and Fig.~\ref{fig:times}
for notations).
The distribution \eqref{eq:time-distribution} is translated by the streaking field to energy, thus
the quantity of interest is the kinetic energy change of the Auger electron measured at a remote detector
at time $t_d$. Its final momentum is given by $p_{A_i}+\Delta p(t_{A_i})$. The field-induced
momentum change evaluates to
\begin{equation}
\Delta p=-\int_{t_{A_i}}^{t_d} \textup{d}\overline{t} \; E(\overline{t}) = -A(t_{A_i}) \;,
\end{equation}
where vanishing of the vector potential for $t = t_d$ with $t_d \rightarrow \infty$ is assumed.
With that, we obtain for the Auger electron energy change
\begin{equation}
E_{\textup{kin}}^d=\frac{1}{2}\left[p_{A_i}-A(t_{A_i})\right]^2+\Delta E^{\textup{PCI}}-\frac{p_{A_i}^2}{2}\; .
\label{eq:kinetic_energy_change}
\end{equation}
A possible energy exchange between photoelectron and Auger electron due to post-collision interaction
is accounted for by $\Delta E^{\textup{PCI}}(t_X,\tau_A)$.
It depends on the distance from the ion, i.~e. on the Auger time delay $\tau_A$, and the pump-probe time delay $t_X$.
In the following we consider fixed (sharp) initial momenta of the two electrons, $p_{P_i}$ and $p_{A_i}$.
Let us first assume an infinitesimal duration of the pump pulse ($\tau_X \rightarrow 0$), which
corresponds to $t_{P_i}\equiv t_X$. An extension of the model to finite XUV pulse durations will be
presented in Sec.~\ref{ssec:finite-xuv}.
Expanding $A$ around $t_{P_i}$ to second order gives for the $\tau_A$-dependent energy shift
$\epsilon_S^\textup{PCI}\equiv E_{\textup{kin}}^d+p_{A_i}A_P$:
\begin{equation}
\epsilon_S^{\textup{PCI}} \approx -p_{A_i} \left ( \dot{A}_P \tau_A + \frac{1}{2} \ddot{A}_P\tau_A^2 \right )+\Delta E^{\textup{PCI}} (\tau_A)\;.
\label{eq:epsilon}
\end{equation}
Here, we use the notations $A_P\equiv A(t_{P_i})$, $\dot{A}_P=\partial/\partial t A(t) |_{t=t_{P_i}}$ and
$\ddot{A}_P=\partial^2/\partial t^2 A(t)|_{t=t_{P_i}}$ and neglect higher-order
terms $\mathcal{O}\left(\tau_A^3 \omega_L^3,A^2\right)$.
Eq.~\eqref{eq:epsilon} translates the temporal distribution of Auger electrons governed by Eq.~\eqref{eq:time-distribution}
to the energy domain through action of the streaking vector potential and PCI.
This procedure was first applied in \cite{ogurtsov_auger_1983} for the time-to-energy transformation
due to PCI without external fields.
In the present paper, we demonstrate, extending the simplified model of Ref.~\cite{schuette_evidence_2011},
this mapping including PCI and streaking, which
gives direct access to closed expressions for the Auger line shape of FA-PCI.
\subsection{Lineshapes neglecting PCI}
Let us first consider the case $\Delta E^{\textup{PCI}}=0$ in Eq.~\eqref{eq:epsilon} and find
the Auger line shapes at characteristic pump-probe time delays $t_X$ for zero transitions and maxima of $A(t)$.
\subsubsection{Zero transitions of the vector potential.}
Since $\dot{A}_P\neq 0$, the leading contribution to the mapping~\eqref{eq:epsilon} is linear in $\tau_A$ and higher-order
contributions can be dropped, which gives
\begin{equation}
\tau_A=-\frac{\epsilon}{p_{A_i} \dot{A}_P} \;.
\label{eq:tauA-nopci-Azero}
\end{equation}
Substituting expression \eqref{eq:tauA-nopci-Azero} in Eq.~\eqref{eq:time-distribution}
gives the Auger line shapes for increasing (+) and decreasing (-) slope of $A$,
\begin{equation}
f_{1\pm}(\epsilon)=\Gamma_1 e^{\pm \Gamma_1 \epsilon}, \;\;\; \textup{with} \;\;\; \Gamma_1=\frac{\Gamma_A}{p_{A_i}|\dot{A}_i|},
\label{eq:lineshape-nopci-azero}
\end{equation}
with the normalization conditions
\begin{equation}
\int_{-\infty}^{0}\textup{d}\epsilon \;f_{1+}(\epsilon)=1,\;\;\; \textup{and} \;\;\; \int_{0}^{\infty} \textup{d} \epsilon\; f_{1-}{(\epsilon)} =1 \; .
\end{equation}
The comparison with 1D MD simulations for $\tau_X \rightarrow 0$, neglecting PCI and without sampling of the initial momentum $p_{A_i}$,
is shown in Fig.~\ref{fig:lineshape-nopci-azero} for Xe \emph{NOO} decay in a $1\,$THz streaking field.
The streaked lines exhibit
the same exponential decay law as the time dependence of the core hole decay.
The direction of the slope of $A$ only affects the orientation
of the exponential tail. Deviations of Eq.~\eqref{eq:lineshape-nopci-azero} from the numerical
solution are very small and are due to the linearization
of $A$ and are only visible in the logarithmic
representation (insets in Fig.~\ref{fig:lineshape-nopci-azero}).
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=4.25cm]{plot_lineshape_nopci_Alarger.pdf}
\includegraphics[width=4.25cm]{plot_lineshape_nopci_Asmaller.pdf}
\caption{(color online) Analytical model for the Auger line shape neglecting PCI, Eq.~\eqref{eq:lineshape-nopci-azero},
compared to corresponding MD simulations (excluding PCI and sampling of $p_{A_i}$)
at zero transitions of the
vector potential for increasing (left) and decreasing (right) slope of $A$.
Shown is Xe $\emph{NOO}$ in a $1\,$THz streaking field with a duration of $1\,$ps and a ponderomotive potential
of $100\,$meV. The insets show the same data semi-logarithmically.}
\label{fig:lineshape-nopci-azero}
\end{figure}
\subsubsection{Extrema of the vector potential}
For maxima ($\ddot{A}_P<0$) and minima ($\ddot{A}_P>0$) of the vector potential,
$\dot{A}_P=0$ holds, thus the second order in $\tau_A$ is the leading contribution in
Eq.~\eqref{eq:epsilon}.
Because obviously $\tau_A \geq 0$, we obtain only one solution
\begin{equation}
\tau_A=\sqrt{-\frac{2\epsilon}{\ddot{A}_P p_A}}\; .
\label{eq:tauA-nopci-Amax}
\end{equation}
The corresponding line shapes for maxima (``-'') and minima (``+'') of $A$ evaluate to
\begin{eqnarray}
f_{2\pm}(\epsilon)=\frac{\Gamma_2}{2} \frac{1}{\sqrt{|\epsilon|}} e^{-\Gamma_2 \sqrt{|\epsilon|}},\;\; \Gamma_2=\Gamma_A \sqrt{\frac{2}{p_{A_i |\ddot{A}_P|}}}\; ,
\label{eq:lineshape-nopci-aext}
\end{eqnarray}
with the normalizations
\begin{eqnarray}
\int_{-\infty}^{0} \textup{d}{\epsilon}\; f_{2+}(\epsilon)=1,\;\;\; \textup{and} \; \int_{0}^{\infty} \textup{d} \epsilon\;f_{2-}(\epsilon) = 1 \; .
\end{eqnarray}
The comparison with MD data is given in Fig.~\ref{fig:lineshape-nopci-aext}. The line is
dominated by a sharp onset at zero and a rather rapid decay.
The second order expansion of $A$ gives perfect agreement with
the simulation (logarithmic representation given in inset in Fig.~\ref{fig:lineshape-nopci-aext}).
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=4.25cm]{plot_lineshape_nopci_Amax.pdf}
\includegraphics[width=4.25cm]{plot_lineshape_nopci_Amin.pdf}
\caption{(color online) Auger lineshape for minima (left panel, $\ddot{A}_P>0$) and maxima
(right panel, $\ddot{A}_P<0$) of $A$.
Displayed is Eq.~\ref{eq:lineshape-nopci-aext} compared to MD simulations.
Parameters are the same as for Fig.~\ref{fig:lineshape-nopci-azero}.}
\label{fig:lineshape-nopci-aext}
\end{figure}
\subsection{Analytical model for PCI}
\label{ssec:lineshapes-pci}
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=8.5cm]{plot_pcimodel.pdf}
\caption{(color online) Scheme of simplified 1D propagation with PCI effects: in phase 1 ($t<t^*$),
the Auger electron (filled circles) catches up with the slow photoelectron (open circles) and overtakes it at
$t=t^*$ (phase 2), $p_A>p_P$ is assumed. The propagation towards the detector in phase 3 ($t>t^*$) is similar to
phase 1. Figure after ref.~\cite{schuette_evidence_2011}.}
\label{fig:pcimodel}
\end{figure}
We now consider the case $\Delta E^{\textup{PCI}}\neq 0$ in Eq.~\eqref{eq:epsilon}.
To obtain closed expressions for the lineshapes including streaking and PCI, the (semi-)classical model introduced
in Sec.~\ref{sec:semi-classics} needs to be simplified in order to calculate $\Delta E^{\textup{PCI}}$.
Following \cite{ogurtsov_auger_1983,russek_post-collision_1986},
we neglect the direct electron-electron interaction and model the PCI energy exchange by an
instantaneous change in the ionic binding potential of $X^{2+}$ to $X^{+}$ for the Auger electron and $X^{+}$ to $X^{2+}$
for the photoelectron.
The propagation scheme, sketched in Fig.~\ref{fig:pcimodel}, then reads as follows:
\begin{itemize}
\item {\bf Phase 1 ($t<t^*$):} propagation of the photoelectron ($t>t_{P_i}$) and the Auger electron ($t>t_{A_i}$) without interaction in the streaking field $E_L(t)$:
\begin{equation}
\ddot{r}_P=-E_L(t) \; \textup{and} \; \ddot{r}_A=-E_L(t)
\label{eq:eom_phase1}
\end{equation}
with initial conditions
\begin{eqnarray}
r_{P}(t_{P_i})=r_{P_i},\;&&\; p_P(t_{P_i})=p_{P_i} \nonumber \\
r_A(t_{A_i})=r_{A_i}, \;&&\; p_A(t_{A_i})= p_{A_i}
\label{eq:eom_phase1_ic}
\end{eqnarray}
\item{\bf Phase 2 ($t=t^*$):} The Auger electron overtakes the photoelectron, changed screening of the ion's charge leads to
energy exchange $\pm \Delta E^{\textup{PCI}}=1/r^*$
corresponding to a momentum change of
\begin{eqnarray}
p_P \rightarrow p_P^-&=&p_P+\Delta p_P(\Delta E^{\textup{PCI}},t^*) \nonumber \\
p_A \rightarrow p_A^+&=&p_A+\Delta p_A(\Delta E^{\textup{PCI}},t^*)
\label{eq:eom_phase2}
\end{eqnarray}
\item{\bf Phase 3 ($t>t^*$):} similar to phase 1 but with initial conditions
\begin{eqnarray}
r_P(t^*)=r_A(t^*)=r^*; \nonumber \\
p_P(t^*)=p_P^-\; \textup{and} \; p_A(t^*)=p_A^+ \; .
\label{eq:eom_phase3_ic}
\end{eqnarray}
\end{itemize}
A straightforward integration of Eq.~\eqref{eq:eom_phase1} gives the time of overtaking
\begin{equation}
t^* = t_{A_i} + \frac{\tau_A \tilde {p}_P - r_{AP}}{p_{AP}} \; ,
\label{eq:tstar}
\end{equation}
and the corresponding distance from the ion
\begin{equation}
r^*= \tau_{A}p_r + \delta r^* \; .
\label{eq:rstar}
\end{equation}
Here, we introduced the notations
\begin{eqnarray}
\tilde{p}_P \equiv p_{P_i}-A(t_{P_i}) \;, \nonumber\\
\tilde{p}_A \equiv p_{A_i}-A(t_{A_i}) \;, \nonumber
\end{eqnarray}
and
\begin{eqnarray}
r_{AP}& \equiv&r_{A_i} - r_{P_i} - \int_{t_{P_i}}^{t_{A_i}} \; \textup{d}\tilde{t} A(\tilde{t}) \; , \nonumber \\[0.3pc]
p_{AP}&\equiv&\tilde{p}_A-\tilde{p}_P=p_{A_i}-p_{P_i}+A(t_{P_i})-A(t_{A_i}) \;, \nonumber \\[0.3pc]
p_r &\equiv& \frac{p_{A_i}p_{P_i}}{p_{AP}} \;, \nonumber\\ [0.3pc]
\delta r^* &\approx& \frac{\tilde{p}_A r_{P_i}-\tilde{p}_P r_{A_i} - A(t_{A_i})(r_{A_i}-r_{P_i})}{p_{AP}} \; . \nonumber
\end{eqnarray}
With that, we obtain from Eq.~\eqref{eq:epsilon} the $\tau_A$ dependence of the
time-to-energy mapping function including PCI and streaking:
\begin{equation}
\epsilon^{\textup{PCI}}(\tau_A)=-p_{A_i} \dot{A}_p \tau_A + \frac{1}{p_r \tau_A +\delta r^*} \; .
\label{eq:epsilon-pci}
\end{equation}
The distance $\delta r^*$ depends on the initial coordinates of the two electrons and their field-changed initial momenta. In most cases
$\delta r^*$ will be a small correction to $r^*$. However, for situations with slow photoeletrons and relatively fast
Auger electrons, i.~e. situations with strong PCI, $\delta r^*$ may become large.
In the following, we derive generalized Auger line shapes for FA-PCI, improving the results presented in \cite{schuette_evidence_2011}, where $\delta r^*=0$
was assumed.
\subsection{FA-PCI without streaking}
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=6cm]{plot_pcinostreak.pdf}
\caption{(color online) Field-assisted PCI without streaking contribution at zero transitions of $A$.
Shown is Eq.~\eqref{eq:lineshape-pci-nostreak} for $\dot{A}>0$ (red dashed line) and $\dot{A}<0$ (blue dotted line)
in comparison to the field free case, Eq.~\eqref{eq:lineshape-pci-nofield}.
Data is for \emph{N-OO} transition of Xe in a $1\,$THz streaking field with $U_p=100\,$meV for $\delta r^*=1$.}
\label{fig:pci-only}
\end{figure}
Before using the full mapping, let us neglect the first term in Eq.~\eqref{eq:epsilon-pci}
linear in $\tau_A$ that is attributed to the
streaking contribution discussed before.
Then we have a hyperbolic mapping function
\begin{equation}
\epsilon_0^{\textup{PCI}} = \frac{1}{p_r \tau_A + \delta r^*} \;.
\label{eq:epsilon-pci-only}
\end{equation}
Utilizing Eq.~\eqref{eq:epsilon-pci-only}, the straightforward transformation
of the time distribution \eqref{eq:time-distribution} gives for the
PCI-induced energy change of the Auger line shape
\begin{eqnarray}
f_{3\pm}(\epsilon) = \Gamma_3 \frac{1}{\epsilon^2} e^{\Gamma_3 (\delta r^*-1/\epsilon )},\;\;\; \textup{with} \; \Gamma_3=\frac{\Gamma_A}{p_r}
\label{eq:lineshape-pci-nostreak}\\
\int_{0}^{1/\delta r^*} \textup{d}\epsilon\; f_3(\epsilon) =1 \;,
\end{eqnarray}
where ``+'' (``-'') refers to $\dot{A}_P>0$ ($\dot{A}_P<0$) in $p_r$ and $\delta r^*$.
From Eq.~\eqref{eq:lineshape-pci-nostreak} we can immediately read off the energy distribution for the field-free case (and assuming $\delta r^*=0$),
\begin{equation}
f_3^{(0)} (\epsilon) = \frac{\Gamma_A}{p_r^0} \frac{1}{\epsilon^2} e^{-\Gamma_A/(p_r^0 \epsilon)}\; ,
\label{eq:lineshape-pci-nofield}
\end{equation}
with $p_r^0=p_{P_i} p_{A_i}/(p_{P_i}-p_{A_i})$, in accordance with the result given in \cite{ogurtsov_auger_1983}.
Our result \eqref{eq:lineshape-pci-nostreak} differs in the way, that although we exclude the explicit streaking contribution in Eq.~\eqref{eq:epsilon-pci},
the field-changed initial momenta $\tilde{p}_P$ and $\tilde{p}_A$ are included.
An example of Xe \emph{NOO} in a $1\,$THz streaking field is shown in Fig.~\ref{fig:pci-only}.
In addition to the case of positive and negative slope of $A$, the field-free case, Eq.~\eqref{eq:lineshape-pci-nofield},
is displayed.
For this specific case, no strong influence of the field on the pure PCI process is visible.
However, $f_{3+}$ has a slightly higher maximum, corresponding
to smaller width, in contrast to the effect observed in the simulations in the previous section (note: this
asymmetry is not the observed chirp).
$f^{(0)}_3$ is exactly in the middle between both.
\subsection{Auger line shapes including FA-PCI}
\label{ssec:fapci-lineshapes}
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=4.25cm]{plot_lineshape_pci_Alarger.pdf}
\includegraphics[width=4.25cm]{plot_lineshape_pci_Asmaller.pdf}
\caption{(color online) Auger lineshapes at zero transition of $A$ including streaking and PCI contributions. The analytical line shapes,
Eqs.~\eqref{eq:lineshape-pci-plus} and~\eqref{eq:lineshape-pci-minus} [bold, red lines] are compared to MD simulations (filled area).
The case of $\dot{A}_P>0$ ($\dot{A}_P<0$) is shown in the left (right) panel. Parameters are the same as for Fig.~\ref{fig:pci-only}.}
\label{fig:lineshapes-pci}
\end{figure}
Using the full mapping function \eqref{eq:epsilon-pci} gives a quadratic equation for $\tau_A$,
\begin{equation}
\tau_A^2+\tau_A \left (\frac{p_r \epsilon^{\textup{PCI}}+\delta r^*p_{A_i}\dot{A}_P}{p_r p_{A_i} \dot{A}_P} \right ) + \frac{\delta r^* \epsilon^{\textup{PCI}} -1}{p_r p_{A_i}\dot{A_P}}=0 \;.
\end{equation}
For the inversion of Eq.~\eqref{eq:epsilon-pci}, we assume $p_r(\tau_A)\equiv p_r$, hence we neglect the additional implicit $\tau_A$ dependence, which
enters through the vector potential.
We define
\begin{equation}
\epsilon_\pm \equiv \epsilon \pm \frac{\beta}{4} \delta r^*; \; \alpha\equiv \frac{1}{2 p_{A_i} \dot{A}_P}; \; \beta \equiv \frac{4 p_{A_i} \dot{A}_P}{p_r}
\end{equation}
and obtain
\begin{equation}
\tau_{A\pm}=-\alpha \epsilon_+ \pm \alpha k_+ \; ,
\label{eq:tauA-pci}
\end{equation}
with $k_{\pm}=\sqrt{\epsilon_-^2\pm|\beta|}$.
For $\dot{A}_P>0$, only the positive branch $\tau_{A+}$ can be realized ($\tau_A \geq 0$), which gives for the lineshape with $\Gamma_4=|\alpha|\Gamma_A$:
\begin{equation}
f_+(\epsilon)=\Gamma_4 \frac{k_+-\epsilon_-}{k_+} e^{-\Gamma_4 (k_+ -\epsilon_+)} \;.
\label{eq:lineshape-pci-plus}
\end{equation}
For $\dot{A}_P<0$, both solutions~\eqref{eq:tauA-pci}, $\tau_{A+}$ and $\tau_{A-}$, are possible. Thus,
the temporal distribution function \eqref{eq:time-distribution} is split into two parts,
$\int_{0}^{\tau_{\textup{min}}}\; e^{-\Gamma_A\tau_A} \textup{d}\tau_A + \int_{\tau_{\textup{min}}}^\infty\; e^{-\Gamma_A\tau_A} \textup{d}\tau_A$, where
$\tau_{\textup{min}}$ separates both branches, $\tau_{A+}$ and $\tau_{A-}$, at $\epsilon(\tau_{\textup{min}})=\epsilon_0$.
The straightforward transformation of both integrals to energy gives for the joint energy distribution function
\begin{equation}
f_-(\epsilon)=2\Gamma_4 e^{-\Gamma_4 \epsilon_+} \left( \frac{\epsilon_-}{k_-} \cosh{\Gamma_4 k_-} -\sinh{\Gamma_4 k_-} \right ) \;.
\label{eq:lineshape-pci-minus}
\end{equation}
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=4.25cm]{plot_mechanism_a_nolines.pdf}
\includegraphics[width=4.25cm]{plot_mechanism_b_nolines.pdf}
\caption{(color online) Time-to-energy mapping of the Auger electrons in the streaking field for $\dot{A}_P>0$ (left)
and $\dot{A}_P<0$ (right). The mappings without PCI, Eq.~\eqref{eq:tauA-nopci-Azero} blue dashed lines, without streaking,
Eq.~\eqref{eq:epsilon-pci-only} green dotted lines, and including
PCI and streaking, Eq.~\eqref{eq:epsilon-pci} red solid lines, are shown. Different signs of $\dot{A}_P$ lead to a drastic change of
the mapping: for $\dot{A}_P>0$ the whole energy space is accessible in a bijective way, whereas in contrast for $\dot{A}_P<0$ a forbidden
region below $\epsilon_0$ occurs and ``early'' and ``late'' Auger electrons are mapped to the same energy.
}
\label{fig:mechanism}
\end{figure}
The line shapes of Xe \emph{NOO} for both cases, $\dot{A}_P>0$ and $\dot{A}_P<0$, are given in Fig.~\ref{fig:lineshapes-pci}
for $\delta r^*=1$.
While for the former, the line is broadened by PCI, for the latter, the line is compressed
and completely different line shapes for subsequent zero transitions of $A$ with different sign of the slope are observed.
As in the previous cases, perfect agreement with simulations based on numerical solutions
of Eqs.~(\ref{eq:eom_phase1}-\ref{eq:eom_phase3_ic}) by means of MC averaged MD simulations (in analogy to
Sec.~\ref{sec:semi-classics}, but without momentum averaging) is observed, and the linearization of $A$ has,
in the considered regimes of pulse duration and ponderomotive potential,
no significant influence on the streaked Auger spectra.
To explain the strikingly different shape of the Auger lines in Fig.~\ref{fig:lineshapes-pci}, the mapping functions from time to energy
are shown in Fig.~\ref{fig:mechanism} for the same set of parameters. The linear streaking part contributing to Eq.~\eqref{eq:epsilon-pci}
is plotted with blue dashed lines, the hyperbolic PCI term with green dotted lines and the sum of both results in the red solid lines.
By comparing $\dot{A}_P>0$ (left) and $\dot{A}_P<0$ (right), the cause for the different lineshapes becomes visible:
whereas for the former, both terms add up to a bijective mapping function spanning the whole energy axis from
$-\infty$ to $\infty$, for the latter one a forbidden energy region for $\epsilon<\epsilon_0=2 \sqrt{p_A |\dot{A}_P|/p_r}$
occurs (gray line in Fig.~\ref{fig:mechanism}). This leads to a drastic compression
of the line (right panel in Fig.~\ref{fig:lineshapes-pci}), where Auger electrons released at two different time moments can be
mapped into the same energy interval. This situation
is completely absent for $\dot{A}_P>0$ which leads to a broad distribution of Auger electrons, cf. left panel in Fig.~\ref{fig:lineshapes-pci}.
This effect is a direct consequence of the interplay between the hyperbolic PCI-induced chirp on the Auger electron energy,
$\Delta E^{\textup{PCI}} \propto 1/r^* \propto 1/\tau_A$, and the linear ``chirp'' introduced by the streaking field,
where the sign of the latter depends on the direction of the streaking field at the time of the core hole creation.
An experimental verification of this mechanism utilizing XUV pulses from FLASH and HHG exciting the Xe \emph{NOO} and Kr \emph{MNN} transitions
has been presented in Ref.~\cite{schuette_evidence_2011}. The comparison of the experimentally obtained Auger electron spectra
with the theoretical results calculated based on MC-MD simulations, as presented in Sec.~\ref{sec:semi-classics}, shows perfect agreement.
\subsection{Finite XUV pulse duration}
\label{ssec:finite-xuv}
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=4.25cm]{plot_lineshape_nopci_Alarger_XUV.pdf}
\includegraphics[width=4.25cm]{plot_lineshape_nopci_Asmaller_XUV.pdf}
\caption{(color online) Auger lineshapes for zero transitions of $A$
neglecting PCI contributions for a finite XUV pulse duration of $20\,$fs FWHM. All parameters refer to
THz streaking of the Xe \emph{NOO} transition.
The convoluted line shape, Eq.~\eqref{eq:lineshape-nopci-XUV} [bold red line],
is plotted against MD simulations (blue area).
The case of infinitesimal XUV pulse duration, Eq.~\eqref{eq:lineshape-nopci-azero}, is shown also for comparison (blue dashed lines).
}
\label{fig:lineshapes-nopci-xuv}
\end{figure}
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=4.25cm]{plot_lineshape_pci_Alarger_XUV.pdf}
\includegraphics[width=4.25cm]{plot_lineshape_pci_Asmaller_XUV.pdf}
\caption{(color online) The same as Fig.~\ref{fig:lineshapes-nopci-xuv} but
for the case including PCI. The result of a numerical convolution, Eq.~\eqref{eq:lineshape-conv-pci},
red bold lines, is compared to MD simulations with sharp momenta (blue area) and
with proper sampling over initial momenta $p_{P_i}$ and $p_{A_i}$ (blue dashed lines).
Additionally, 3D MD simulations, cf. Sec.~\ref{sec:semi-classics}, are shown
(orange dotted lines).}
\label{fig:lineshape-pci-XUV}
\end{figure}
Eqs.~\eqref{eq:lineshape-pci-plus} and \eqref{eq:lineshape-pci-minus} describe the shape of the Auger energy
distribution for infinitesimal pulse duration of the XUV excitation.
To account for finite pulse durations $\tau_X$, a similar transformation
of probability distributions from time to energy as for the case of the decay law \eqref{eq:time-distribution}
needs to be performed.
The temporal distribution of a photoelectron excited by a Gaussian shaped pulse is described by
Eq.~\eqref{eq:xuv-time-distribution}.
At zero transitions of the vector potential, utilizing the same linearization of $A$ as was used for Eq.~\eqref{eq:epsilon},
we obtain for the $\tau_i$-dependent energy shift (see Fig.~\ref{fig:times} for notations)
\begin{equation}
\tilde{\epsilon}(\tau_i)=-p_i \dot{A}(t_X)\tau_i + \mathcal{O}(A^2,\tau_i^2)\;.
\end{equation}
Using this mapping function, a streaked energy spectrum due to the finite XUV pulse duration can be calculated:
\begin{eqnarray}
f_X(\tilde{\epsilon})=\frac{1}{\sqrt{\pi} \Gamma_{X1}} \exp \left (- \frac{\tilde{\epsilon}^2}{\Gamma_{X1}^2} \right ) \;
\label{eq:xuv-distribution}
\end{eqnarray}
with the normalization condition
\begin{eqnarray}
\int_{-\infty}^{\infty} \textup{d}\tilde{\epsilon} \; f_{X}(\tilde{\epsilon})=1,\; \textup{and}\;\;\;\Gamma_{X1} = p_{A_i} \dot{A}(t_X) \tau_X \;.
\end{eqnarray}
At each photoelectron ``birth'' time $t_{P_i}$, the Auger ``clock'' starts, and with that the
energy mapping of the temporal distribution of Auger electrons. Therefore, the final streaked Auger energy
distribution is given by the convolution
\begin{equation}
f_{XA}(\epsilon)=\int_{-\infty}^{\infty} \textup{d}\tilde{\epsilon} \; f_{X} (\tilde{\epsilon}) f_A (\epsilon-\tilde{\epsilon}) \;.
\label{eq:lineshape-convolution}
\end{equation}
If the PCI contribution is neglected, i.~e.~$f_A(\epsilon)=f_{1\pm}(\epsilon)$, cf. Eq.~\eqref{eq:lineshape-nopci-azero},
the integration in Eq.~\eqref{eq:lineshape-convolution} can be carried out analytically and gives for the line shape
\begin{equation}
f_{X1\pm}(\epsilon) = \frac{\Gamma_1}{2} e^{\frac{1}{4} \Gamma_{X1}^2 \Gamma_1^2} e^{\pm \Gamma_1 \epsilon} \textup{erfc}\left( \frac{\Gamma_{X1} \Gamma_1}{2} \pm \frac{\epsilon}{\Gamma_{X1}}\right )\; .
\label{eq:lineshape-nopci-XUV}
\end{equation}
The lineshape for two subsequent zero transitions of $A$ for an XUV pulse duration of $20\,$fs FWHM is shown in
Fig.~\ref{fig:lineshapes-nopci-xuv} (bold red line). The finite excitation time interval of the core hole broadens the pure Auger decay line (blue
dashed line). Despite the rather long pulse duration compared to the core hole lifetime, the exponential decay of
the case of infinitesimal excitation duration is still imprinted on the convoluted line. Corresponding
MD data (blue area, according to method (i) below) is
in perfect agreement with Eq.~\eqref{eq:lineshape-nopci-XUV}.
Considering the PCI-distorted line shapes, $f_A(\epsilon)=f_{\pm}(\epsilon)$, the integral
\begin{equation}
f_{X\pm}(\epsilon) = \int_{-\infty}^{\infty} \textup{d} \tilde{\epsilon} \; f_X(\tilde{\epsilon}) f_{\pm}(\epsilon-\tilde{\epsilon})
\label{eq:lineshape-conv-pci}
\end{equation}
cannot be solved analytically.
The result of a numerical integration of Eq.~\eqref{eq:lineshape-conv-pci}
for a $20\,$fs FWHM XUV pulse is given in Fig.~\ref{fig:lineshape-pci-XUV} for positive and negative slope of $A(t)$.
Although the asymmetry with respect to $\dot{A}_P>0$ and $\dot{A}_P<0$ is less pronounced
than for the case of infinitesimal XUV excitation duration shown in Fig.~\ref{fig:lineshapes-pci},
still a difference between ascending and descending slope of $A$ is visible indicating the chirp in Auger emission.
To verify the accuracy of the analytical result, additionally three different sets of simulations are shown:
(i) numerical solutions according to Eqs.~(\ref{eq:eom_phase1}-\ref{eq:eom_phase3_ic}) [(blue) filled area],
(ii) similar to (i) but with proper averaging over the
initial momenta $p_{A_i}$ and $p_{p_i}$ [blue dashed lines] and (iii)
3D MD simulations according to the scheme
in Sec.~\ref{sec:semi-classics}, also including angular distributions [orange dotted lines].
(i) resembles the assumptions of the analytical model, except for the linearization of $A$, and shows
perfect agreement with Eq.~\eqref{eq:lineshape-conv-pci}.
Solutions according to (ii) and (iii) show a substantial broadening of the Auger line. For (ii)
this results from the natural Auger line width and the bandwidth of the XUV pulse, and for (iii) in addition
from the angle integration.
This broadening occurs in a similar way for rising and falling flank of $A$ and does not affect
the observed asymmetry attributed to the PCI-induced chirp.
Therefore, the analytical line shape model \eqref{eq:lineshape-conv-pci} catches the important features of
FA-PCI. It can be evaluated numerically for a large set of parameters due to its simple convolution structure.
Thus, Eq.~\eqref{eq:lineshape-conv-pci} is well-suited for the detailed investigation of the properties of
FA-PCI and its dependence on the streaking conditions and XUV parameters.
\subsection{Photoelectron distributions}
\label{ssec:pe-distribution}
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=8.5cm]{plot_tdse_pe_width.pdf}
\caption{(color online) Energy (left axis) and FWHM (right axis) of the Auger electron (dotted)
and the photoelectron distribution (PCI: solid, without PCI: dashed).
Shown is the case of Xe \emph{NOO} scaled by $\gamma=10$ obtained within
TDSE simulations. Parameters are the same as for Fig.~\ref{fig:tdse-duration}.}
\label{fig:width-pe}
\end{figure}
In the previous sections, we identified the physical mechanism for the observed time-dependent chirp on the
Auger electron's energy: a direct connection between the time instant of decay and an associated (unique) energy
shift mediated through post-collision interaction. At this point, a remark on the consequences for the
corresponding photoelectron distribution is appropriate.
As a matter of fact, the kinetic energy of the photoelectron is affected in a similar way as it is for the Auger electron,
but, by reason of energy conservation, with an opposite sign. Thus, the photoelectron is slowed down due to PCI
by the same amount of energy $\Delta E^{\textup{PCI}}$ the Auger electron has gained.
However, this does not result, as one might guess, in a chirp on the photoelectron energy
distribution with different sign, as already pointed out in Sec.~\ref{ssec:tdse-pe}.
The results of TDSE simulations, carried out as described in Sec.~\ref{sec:tdse},
are shown in Fig.~\ref{fig:width-pe}.
The FWHM for the photoelectron line is depicted for the case including PCI (solid line) and neglecting PCI (dashed line)
for a full set of time delays between pump and probe pulse. For both cases, no asymmetry with respect to the rising and the falling flank
of the vector potential is observed. Only a broadening of the line for the PCI-included case is present, resulting in
an equidistant upward shift of the PCI curve in comparison to the case neglecting PCI, and therefore, no chirp on the photoelectron
energy can be identified.
The prominent asymmetry in the FWHM for the Auger electron is shown for comparison with dotted lines in Fig.~\ref{fig:width-pe}.
Returning to Eq.~\eqref{eq:epsilon-pci}, the mapping from the time moment of Auger decay, $\tau_A$, to energy, the origin
for the absence of a chirp becomes clear: while for Auger electrons, each decay time corresponds to a certain amount
of energy transfer, for photoelectrons no such connection can be found. For each time moment of photoemission, every Auger decay
time $\tau_A$ is possible, and with that any arbitrary energy transfer due to PCI. Thus, only a PCI broadening of the line
is expected, which is the same for every release time of the photoelectron and explains the observed delay dependence
of the FWHM of the photoelectron spectrum in Fig.~\ref{fig:width-pe}.
\section{Use of FA-PCI for pulse characterization}
\label{sec:params}
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=4.25cm]{plot_lineshape_pci_Alarger_taudep_kr.pdf}
\includegraphics[width=4.25cm]{plot_lineshape_pci_Asmaller_taudep_kr.pdf}
\caption{(color online) Auger line shape of the Kr \emph{MNN} transition in a $3.3\,$THz
streaking field at fixed ponderomotive potential of $100\,$meV for different XUV pulse durations
with a photon energy of $97\,$eV. Shown are solutions of the analytical model,
Eq.~\eqref{eq:lineshape-conv-pci}.}
\label{fig:lineshape-pci-taudep}
\end{figure}
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=4.25cm]{plot_lineshape_pci_Alarger_updep_kr.pdf}
\includegraphics[width=4.25cm]{plot_lineshape_pci_Asmaller_updep_kr.pdf}
\caption{(color online) The same as Fig.~\ref{fig:lineshape-pci-taudep} but for different ponderomotive
potential of the streaking field at fixed XUV pulse duration of $28\,$fs.}
\label{fig:lineshape-pci-updep}
\end{figure}
In this last part we ask the question, whether the PCI-induced asymmetry with respect to the direction
of the slope of the vector potential may help to improve the pulse characterization capabilities of the streak
camera.
In Sec.~\ref{sec:tdse} we already commented on the influence of the ponderomotive potential and the XUV
pump pulse duration on the observed asymmetry. This raises the question whether this dependence, especially
on the pulse duration $\tau_X$, can be used as a sensitive parameter to recover the pulse durations in experiments.
Due to the larger effect of PCI, we choose Kr \emph{MNN} decay
at a photon energy of $97\;$eV in the following.
The line shape for different XUV pulse durations at the zero transitions of the vector potential
with $U_p=100\,$meV is shown in Fig.~\ref{fig:lineshape-pci-taudep},
calculated according to Eq.~\eqref{eq:lineshape-conv-pci}.
The left panel shows the broadened line $f_X^+$ for $\dot{A}>0$ and the right panel the corresponding
compressed line $f_X^-$ for $\dot{A}<0$.
For the shortest pulse durations ($3.5$ and $7\,$fs) with $\tau_X \lesssim \Gamma_A^{-1}$
the largest asymmetry is observed, whereas for long pulses ($42\,$fs) no
clear distinction between $\dot{A}>0$ and $\dot{A}<0$ is possible. The largest impact on this asymmetry
has the compressed line, which is sharp in the case of very short pump pulses, cf. Fig.~\ref{fig:lineshapes-pci}, right panel.
For increasing $\tau_X$, the convolution with the Gaussian shaped time distribution of the XUV excitation smoothens
(broadens) this line, until the streaking-induced broadening predominates. This result agrees qualitatively
with the TDSE simulations presented above in Sec.~\ref{ssec:tdse-results}, cf. Fig.~\ref{fig:tdse-duration}.
A similar behavior is observed upon change of the ponderomotive potential of the streaking pulse at a fixed
pump pulse duration of $28\,$fs, see Fig.~\ref{fig:lineshape-pci-updep}. Here, the largest
asymmetry is observed for small $U_p$, whereas the asymmetry gradually decreases upon increase of $U_p$.
This effect can be as well explained by a domination of the streaking contribution for
large $U_p$, where the broadening of the line due to the larger momentum transfer from the streaking field
exceeds the PCI contribution. Again, a similar picture arises in TDSE calculations, cf. Fig.~\ref{fig:tdse-up}.
In a further step, we want to evaluate the asymmetry in more detail.
To this end, we introduce a classification parameter $\xi$, defined as
\begin{equation}
\xi=\frac{|w^--w^+|}{w^-+w^+}\;,
\label{eq:asym-param}
\end{equation}
where $w^\pm$ is the FWHM of the Auger line at $\dot{A}>0$ and $\dot{A}<0$, respectively.
This parameter $\xi \in [0,1]$ describes the relative asymmetry and is zero for vanishing
asymmetry and attains finite
positive values smaller than one in any other case.
\subsection{Effect of XUV pump pulse duration}
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=0.48\textwidth]{plot_model_tauscan_krypton_100meV.pdf}
\caption{(color online) Position of the Auger line's maximum $\epsilon_m^\pm$,
the corresponding width $w^\pm$ and the asymmetry parameter $\xi$, cf.
Eq.~\eqref{eq:asym-param}, vs. XUV pump pulse duration.
Data is for Kr \emph{MNN} decay at a ponderomotive potential of $100\,$meV of the streaking pulse.
The forbidden region for $\dot{A}_p<0$ at infinitesimal short XUV pulse duration is marked by $\epsilon_0$.
The superscript ''+``(''-``) refers to $\dot{A}_p>0$ ($\dot{A}_p<0$). }
\label{fig:asymmetry-model-tau}
\end{figure}
A key property for successful pulse characterization is the existence of observables
sensitive to the XUV pulse duration.
In Fig.~\ref{fig:asymmetry-model-tau} several properties of the Auger line shapes are plotted
depending on the XUV pulse duration at fixed $U_p=100\,$meV:
the position of the maximum of the line, $\epsilon_m^{\pm}$, the FWHM of the line, $w^\pm$,
and the corresponding asymmetry parameter $\xi$.
Let us first consider the energetic position of the line.
For $\dot{A}<0$, $\epsilon_m^-$ is positive,
stemming directly from the positive tail of the decay law. For small pulse durations, the forbidden
region $\epsilon < \epsilon_0$, discussed in Sec.~\ref{ssec:fapci-lineshapes}, is observed with the
sharp onset of the line at $\epsilon_0$. With increasing
pulse duration, the position of the maximum shifts towards higher energies, a clear consequence of the convolution
with the Gaussian shaped temporal distribution of the XUV pulse. This shift saturates for large
pulse durations, $\tau_X \gg \Gamma_A^{-1}$, due to the broad convolution function.
For $\dot{A}>0$ and $\epsilon_m^+$, a similar trend is observed for $\epsilon_m^+$, but with decreasing energy of the maximum.
Due to the PCI-induced broadening of the line, the effect is here less pronounced than for the compressed line.
The width of the line, $w^\pm$, shows the typical strong influence on the XUV pump pulse duration: the
larger $\tau_X$, the larger $w^\pm$. This phenomenon is the basic principle of the streak camera
utilized for the estimation of pulse lengths.
Here, the observed asymmetry due to the PCI-induced chirp on the Auger electron's energy
manifests itself in two branches for the width: one for $\dot{A}>0$ labeled by $w^+$ and one for
$\dot{A}<0$ indicated by $w^-$, cf. dashed lines in Fig.~\ref{fig:asymmetry-model-tau}.
For conventional chirp-free situations
both branches coincide (no asymmetry with respect to $\dot{A}>0$ and $\dot{A}<0$).
Since with two opposing detectors, both situations $\dot{A}>0$ and $\dot{A}<0$ can be recorded
simultaneously, also the asymmetry parameter $\xi$ carries valuable information about the single-shot pulse
properties. Its pulse-duration dependence is plotted by the (green) dotted line:
for short pulses a large asymmetry of about $0.75$ is observed with a
rapid decrease down to about $0.1$ at pulse durations of $20\,$fs. The largest variation is found for pulses
below $10\,$fs where $\tau_X$ is comparable to the Auger decay time $\Gamma_A^{-1}$.
Thus from measuring the width of the Auger lines at opposite slopes of the streaking vector potential
simultaneously, a reconstruction of the pulse duration is possible, even if
PCI effects are present.
\subsection{Ponderomotive potential of streaking pulse}
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=0.48\textwidth]{plot_model_upscan_krypton_20fs.pdf}
\caption{(color online) The same as Fig.~\ref{fig:asymmetry-model-tau} but for varied
ponderomotive potential $U_p$ of the streaking field at a fixed pump pulse duration of $28\;$fs.}
\label{fig:asymmetry-model-up}
\end{figure}
\begin{figure}
\includegraphics[width=0.48\textwidth]{plot_model_tauscan_krypton.pdf}
\caption{(color online) Asymmetry parameter $\xi$ for different ponderomotive potentials of the streaking pulse as a function of the XUV pulse duration.
Parameters are the same as for Fig.~\ref{fig:asymmetry-model-tau}.}
\label{fig:asymmetry-model-tau-up}
\end{figure}
An important question is the dependence of the asymmetry on the streaking conditions and, in
particular, the ponderomotive potential $U_p$ of the streaking field. This
parameter is, in principle, easily tunable in experiments, either through the frequency $\omega_L$
(limited by the pulse duration $\tau_X \ll \omega_L^{-1}$) or the intensity $E_L^2$.
In Fig.~\ref{fig:asymmetry-model-up} the position of the maximum, the FWHM and the asymmetry parameter
for a scan of $U_p$, by variation of $E_L$, at a fixed XUV pulse duration of $28\,$fs are shown.
For vanishing $U_p$, no streaking occurs, which gives vanishing energy shifts $\epsilon_m^\pm$
and widths $w^\pm$. [Note: no natural line widths are included in Eq.~\eqref{eq:lineshape-conv-pci}].
For increasing $U_p$, the position of the maximum of the line shifts towards higher energies
for the case of $\dot{A}<0$ ($\epsilon_m^-$) and towards smaller energies for $\dot{A}>0$ ($\epsilon_m^+$).
This effect is similar to the behavior observed
upon variation of $\tau_X$. Also, as in the previous case, two branches of the width
can be identified, originating from the asymmetry (dashed lines in Fig.~\ref{fig:asymmetry-model-up}).
For larger $U_p$, the momentum transfer from the probing field to the electron increases and, with that,
the streaking, resulting in broader lines. Again for the case of chirp-free XUV excitation without
PCI effects the ''+`` and the ''-`` branches would coincide.
Additionally, the asymmetry parameter $\xi$ is plotted in Fig.~\ref{fig:asymmetry-model-up}.
Starting from a rather high value at very small $U_p$, it exhibits
a rapid drop when $U_p$ increases to about $10\,$meV, followed by a slow convergence with only a weak dependence on $U_p$
over a wide range of approximately $100\,$meV.
Fig.~\ref{fig:asymmetry-model-tau-up} summarizes
the possibilities for pulse characterization using FA-PCI. The asymmetry parameter $\xi$ is shown
as a function of $\tau_X$ for different $U_p$ of the streaking pulse. For all considered values
of $U_p$ a monotonic behavior with large asymmetry for small pulse durations and vice versa
is observed. The larger $U_p$ the faster is the drop of $\xi$ at small pulse durations and, with the
corresponding strong variation with $\tau_X$, a high sensitivity of $\xi$ in the range of
pulse durations below $10$ to $20\,$fs occurs. Thus increasing $U_p$ allows to extend the region of sensitivity
to slightly larger XUV pulse durations.
In conclusion, measuring $\xi$ at a given ponderomotive potential of the streaking field for $\dot{A}>0$ and $\dot{A}<0$
simultaneously utilizing opposite detectors, an estimation of
the XUV pulse duration based on (time-resolved) Auger electron spectroscopy is possible. The highest sensitivity is reached
for XUV pulse durations below $10\,$fs with a rather strong variation of the measured parameter $\xi$ by a factor of four.
\section{Conclusions and Outlook}
\label{sec:conclusions}
In this paper, we gave a detailed theoretical explanation of the experimental observations in \cite{schuette_evidence_2011},
which show evidence of an energetic chirp in Auger emission.
Based on solutions of the TDSE we could reproduce the chirp for model systems and explain its
origin by post-collision interaction. This formed the basis for classical modeling of the photoelectron and the Auger electron
in the continuum, including all electron-electron and electron-ion interactions.
Using Monte-Carlo averaged Molecular Dynamics simulations for the electrons, we were able to verify this chirp. The
quantitative comparison with experiments including detector resolutions and acceptance
geometries using the Xe \emph{NOO} and the Kr \emph{MNN}
transitions presented in \cite{schuette_evidence_2011} shows perfect agreement between our approach
and the light-field driven streak camera in the considered range of parameters.
For deeper insight and to obtain a more flexible tool, we derived a classical,
analytical line shape model for the Auger electron
that fully includes the XUV pulse shape, streaking and PCI effects and thus captures all important properties.
We further showed, how our results
may be used as a tool for estimating the length of XUV pump pulses if PCI effects are involved.
In the present work, we focused on the Auger electrons, which was motivated by currently available
experiments. The corresponding photoelectron distribution was briefly discussed, and we explained why no
energetic chirp is present there. A detailed analysis will be part of a future work.
Worthwhile considerations include the influence of additional XUV pulse parameters such as chirp and
substructures, e.~g.~spikes as present in the case of free electron laser sources.
Additionally, it will be advantageous to extend our purely classical model for the FA-PCI line shape to account for quantum
effects in order to describe interference and spin effects.
Finally, it would be very interesting to investigate in experiments with either Kr \emph{MNN} or Xe \emph{NOO}
the behavior when the XUV photon energy is increased.
If the proposed FA-PCI scenario is correct, then the chirp of the Auger spectra should vanish when
the photoelectron energy starts to exceed the Auger electron energy.
\acknowledgments{We thank B. Sch\"utte, U. Fr\"uhling and M. Drescher
for many interesting discussions of their experiments. We are grateful to N. Kabachnik
for bringing to our attention the early work on PCI, in particular Ref.~\cite{ogurtsov_auger_1983}.
This work has been supported by the BMBF-Verbund ''FLASH'' and
grant shp0006 for computer time at HLRN.}
| {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaArXiv"
} | 952 |
package gval
import (
"bytes"
"fmt"
"strings"
"text/scanner"
"unicode"
)
//Parser parses expressions in a Language into an Evaluable
type Parser struct {
scanner scanner.Scanner
Language
lastScan rune
camouflage error
}
func newParser(expression string, l Language) *Parser {
sc := scanner.Scanner{}
sc.Init(strings.NewReader(expression))
sc.Error = func(*scanner.Scanner, string) {}
sc.Filename = expression + "\t"
p := &Parser{scanner: sc, Language: l}
p.resetScannerProperties()
return p
}
func (p *Parser) resetScannerProperties() {
p.scanner.Whitespace = scanner.GoWhitespace
p.scanner.Mode = scanner.GoTokens
p.scanner.IsIdentRune = func(r rune, pos int) bool {
return unicode.IsLetter(r) || r == '_' || (pos > 0 && unicode.IsDigit(r))
}
}
// SetWhitespace sets the behavior of the whitespace matcher. The given
// characters must be less than or equal to 0x20 (' ').
func (p *Parser) SetWhitespace(chars ...rune) {
var mask uint64
for _, char := range chars {
mask |= 1 << char
}
p.scanner.Whitespace = mask
}
// SetMode sets the tokens that the underlying scanner will match.
func (p *Parser) SetMode(mode uint) {
p.scanner.Mode = mode
}
// SetIsIdentRuneFunc sets the function that matches ident characters in the
// underlying scanner.
func (p *Parser) SetIsIdentRuneFunc(fn func(ch rune, i int) bool) {
p.scanner.IsIdentRune = fn
}
// Scan reads the next token or Unicode character from source and returns it.
// It only recognizes tokens t for which the respective Mode bit (1<<-t) is set.
// It returns scanner.EOF at the end of the source.
func (p *Parser) Scan() rune {
if p.isCamouflaged() {
p.camouflage = nil
return p.lastScan
}
p.camouflage = nil
p.lastScan = p.scanner.Scan()
return p.lastScan
}
func (p *Parser) isCamouflaged() bool {
return p.camouflage != nil && p.camouflage != errCamouflageAfterNext
}
// Camouflage rewind the last Scan(). The Parser holds the camouflage error until
// the next Scan()
// Do not call Rewind() on a camouflaged Parser
func (p *Parser) Camouflage(unit string, expected ...rune) {
if p.isCamouflaged() {
panic(fmt.Errorf("can only Camouflage() after Scan(): %v", p.camouflage))
}
p.camouflage = p.Expected(unit, expected...)
}
// Peek returns the next Unicode character in the source without advancing
// the scanner. It returns EOF if the scanner's position is at the last
// character of the source.
// Do not call Peek() on a camouflaged Parser
func (p *Parser) Peek() rune {
if p.isCamouflaged() {
panic("can not Peek() on camouflaged Parser")
}
return p.scanner.Peek()
}
var errCamouflageAfterNext = fmt.Errorf("Camouflage() after Next()")
// Next reads and returns the next Unicode character.
// It returns EOF at the end of the source.
// Do not call Next() on a camouflaged Parser
func (p *Parser) Next() rune {
if p.isCamouflaged() {
panic("can not Next() on camouflaged Parser")
}
p.camouflage = errCamouflageAfterNext
return p.scanner.Next()
}
// TokenText returns the string corresponding to the most recently scanned token.
// Valid after calling Scan().
func (p *Parser) TokenText() string {
return p.scanner.TokenText()
}
//Expected returns an error signaling an unexpected Scan() result
func (p *Parser) Expected(unit string, expected ...rune) error {
return unexpectedRune{unit, expected, p.lastScan}
}
type unexpectedRune struct {
unit string
expected []rune
got rune
}
func (err unexpectedRune) Error() string {
exp := bytes.Buffer{}
runes := err.expected
switch len(runes) {
default:
for _, r := range runes[:len(runes)-2] {
exp.WriteString(scanner.TokenString(r))
exp.WriteString(", ")
}
fallthrough
case 2:
exp.WriteString(scanner.TokenString(runes[len(runes)-2]))
exp.WriteString(" or ")
fallthrough
case 1:
exp.WriteString(scanner.TokenString(runes[len(runes)-1]))
case 0:
return fmt.Sprintf("unexpected %s while scanning %s", scanner.TokenString(err.got), err.unit)
}
return fmt.Sprintf("unexpected %s while scanning %s expected %s", scanner.TokenString(err.got), err.unit, exp.String())
}
| {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaGithub"
} | 5,157 |
Decorating small environments has become a necessity in view of apartment projects with ever smaller areas. In these cases, the laundry is usually a more compact rooms of the projects. With this trend in mind, the ideal is to look for functional solutions that optimize space. Remembering that the laundry should ideally have an area for washing, drying, storing and passing products.
Hooks are great at any laundromat, especially those with little space. Waterlogging on the wall is an example of this, being able to hang clothes or even hangers without use.
In the appliance market there is a wide variety of compact options, so it is best to choose a small machine. Another recommended idea is to change the traditional sink or the laundry tank by a bathroom tub, which are smaller and can still give a distinctive charm to the environment.
Picture 1 - Look for practical and functional solutions for the small environment.
In this case, there is a lid for the sink, with the same look and color as the countertop. Useful when we need extra space to work on the bench.
Picture 2 - Use airspace to place niches and shelves.
The niches and shelves are great allies for those who need extra space. Take advantage to store cleaning products, cloths, towels, utensils and even small electronics.
Picture 3 - The wired furniture is a great alternative to give flexibility in the layout.
Using this type of furniture helps save space by leaving shelves and cabinets exposed.
Picture 4 - Integrated kitchen and laundry.
In the absence of space for a dedicated laundry, some designs can adapt a part of the kitchen to house the washing machine and even put a tank.
Picture 5 - Small laundry decorated.
This laundry in the corner of the apartment was decorated on the bench with yellow tablets. The side wall was coated with Portuguese tile .
Picture 6 - Try to support the utensils on the wall.
Small laundry with subway tiles and washing machine and dryer under the other. The sidewall was used to secure the ironing board.
Image 7 - Close the laundry with a curtain.
One cheap option to close the laundry room and not let it in evidence is with a curtain.
Image 8 - The clothesline can occupy the air space of the bench.
This is a widely used solution that can not be overlooked by those who need a space to dry their clothes. An alternative to floor poles, you can use a fixed pole in the airspace.
Picture 9 - Service area with sliding door.
The sliding door also allows this flexibility to close or not the view of the laundry room.
Image 10 - Small and closed laundry with white cabinet at the top and machine at the bottom.
Image 11 - Kitchen with laundry in the corner.
Image 12 - Hide the laundry part with some door.
Image 13 - Laundry without sink.
Picture 14 - Optimize the space of your house.
The washing machines were positioned in the bathroom, next to the stall.
Image 15 - Having small furniture is essential.
A clean laundry with the predominant white in the cabinets, wall and appliances.
Image 16 - Laundry built-in closet.
Picture 17 - Put clothes rack in the part of the cabinets.
Image 18 - Small laundry with two machines.
Picture 19 - Bathroom with laundry.
A simple solution for those who do not have a space for the laundry is to position the washing machine in the bathroom. It is possible to do this without losing the charm of the environment.
Image 20 - Enjoy the upper part of the environment with niches and clothes rack stuck in the joinery.
The rack is a smart solution that can be combined together with the kitchen's planned furniture. With it you gain a space to extend the clothes.
Picture 21 - Replace the traditional utility area sink with a compact tank.
Another solution is to use a common sink bin instead of a traditional tank, which certainly takes up more space.
Image 22 - Laundry under the stairs.
This small space under the stairs was used to house the washing machine and some small cabinets.
Image 23 - Hidden laundry.
To leave the laundry hidden in this project, an articulated door (shrimp holder) was chosen.
Picture 24 - Folding or sliding doors are great allies for use in small environments.
Image 25 - Laundry in the hallway.
The end of the corridor was used to house a small laundry with shelves and a closet.
Image 26 - Small laundry with hanging clothesline.
Image 27 - Laundry hidden in the closet.
The closet is another interesting option for anyone who wants to leave the laundry hidden.
Image 28 - Compact decorated laundry.
Picture 29 - Small laundry with black decoration.
Picture 30 - For a small space the clean decoration always takes the feeling of amplitude.
Image 31 - Laundry hidden in the kitchen closet.
Image 32 - Laundry with small sink.
Image 33 - Laundry with clothes rack.
Image 34 - The sink can be a detail in the decoration in the laundry.
Picture 35 - How about assembling the space of the service area on the balcony?
Image 36 - Toilet with laundry.
Picture 37 - Create a space to do all the tasks: washing, ironing and drying.
Image 38 - The ladder space can have a functional use in the house.
Image 39 - Use light materials in the small laundry room.
Picture 40 - Service area with space for dogs.
Picture 41 - The countertop can be positioned above the washing machines.
Picture 42 - Do not forget to decorate the laundry with high quality linings and in harmony with your favorite style.
Picture 43 - Kitchen with washing machine positioned on the same bench.
Image 44 - Small laundry with an industrial touch.
Picture 45 - To have a larger bench space, place a table top over the sink and the machine.
Image 46 - Kitchen with integrated laundry.
Image 47 - Expand the space of the kitchen by joining it with the laundry.
Image 48 - Close the laundry area with sliding doors.
Image 49 - Practical idea to optimize space.
Here we have small drawers that when opened serve as a clothes rack to hang the clothes.
Picture 50 - The flexible countertop helps a lot in the laundry with small space.
Image 51 - Small laundry with colorful decoration.
Having a small laundry does not mean it can not be colorful and charming.
Image 52 - Small laundry with space for sink and clothesline.
Picture 53 - Laundry positioned in the kitchen in L.
Image 54 - Small laundry with black countertop.
Image 55 - Another laundry option with high ceilings sheltered completely inside the closet with sliding doors.
Image 56 - Laundry and kitchen in the same space.
Image 57 - Supporting one machine under another is an option to optimize space.
Image 58 - Warm laundry in a building niche.
Image 59 - Laundry with compact washer.
An example of a laundry that uses an innovative and compact washing machine specially made to be fixed to walls.
Image 60 - Bathroom with laundry.
Another example of a small space in the bathroom that was used to house the washing machine without interfering with the functionality of the environment.
We hope you've been inspired by these projects to create smart solutions for a small environment. How about starting now to plan your own laundry? | {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaC4"
} | 2,859 |
{"url":"https:\/\/iqtestpreparation.com\/iq-test-practice-2","text":"# IQ Test, Mental Aptitude, Logical Reasoning & Mathematical Tests\n\n### Test Report\n\n#### Question No 1\n\nWhat is the angle between the hands of a clock at 3:35 pm?\n\nSolution!\nAt 3:35 hour hand is nearly at 3\nMinute hand is at 7\n\nAngle between 3 and 7 is 120 degree.\n\nHour hand move 1\/2 degree in one minute.\n\nIn 35 Minutes hour hand will move 1\/2 * 35 = 17.5 degree\n\nHence, Angle between hands is 120 - 17.5 = 102.5 degree.\n\n#### Question No 2\n\nWhich number is the odd one out, 8, 27, 64, 100, 125, 216, 343\n\nSolution!\nAll others are perfect cube of any number but 100 is not the perfect cube of any number..\n\n#### Question No 3\n\nA train 108 m long moving at a speed of 50 km\/hr crosses a train 112 m long coming from opposite direction in 6 seconds. The speed of the second train is\n\nSolution!\nLet the speed of the second train be x km\/hr.\n\nRelative speed = (x + 50) km\/hr\n= (x+50)*(5\/18) m\/s\n= (250+5x)18 m\/s\n\nDistance covered = (108 + 112) = 220 m\n\nSo, 220\/[(250 + 5x) \/18] = 6\n250 + 5x = 660\n\nHence, x = 82 km\/hr.\n\n#### Question No 4\n\nChoose the word which is different from the rest.\n\nSolution!\nAll except Veil cover the head, while veil covers the face..\n\n#### Question No 5\n\nThe sum of the ages of two children is 12 and their product is 32. The age of elder one is\n\nSolution!\nLet age of younger child is x and age of elder child is y.\n\nGiven that\nx+y = 12 ...(1)\n\nand\nxy = 32\nx = 32\/y\n\nPut value of x in equation(1)\n(32\/y)+y = 12\n32+(y^2) = 12y\n(y^2)-12y+32 = 0\n(y^2)-8y-4y+32 = 0\ny(y-8)+4(y-8) = 0\n(y-8)(y+4) = 0\ny = -4 (impossible)\nor\ny = 8\n\nHence age of elder child is 8 years..\n\n#### Question No 6\n\n0 , 100 , 6 , 94 , 12 , 88 , 18 , 82 , ? , ?\n\nSolution!\nThere are two sequences interwoven.\n\nAdd 6 starting at 0 and deduct 6 starting at 100..\n\n#### Question No 7\n\nIn a box ratio of DVD to VCD is 2\/3. Which of the following cannot be the total number of CD's in the box?\n\nSolution!\nAs 2+3 = 5, So total number of CD's must be multiple of 5.\n\nIn the options all are multiple of 5 except 11\n\nSo 11 is the correct answer..\n\n#### Question No 8\n\n100 , 96.75 , 93.5 , 90.25 , 87 , ?\n\nSolution!\nDeduct 3.25 each time..\n\n#### Question No 9\n\nWhich of the following is a leap year?\n\nSolution!\nThe century divisible by 400 is a leap year.\n\nSo, The year 800 is a leap year..\n\n#### Question No 10\n\nIf 6th March, 2005 is Monday, what was the day of the week on 6th March, 2004?\n\nSolution!\nThe year 2004 is a leap year. So, it has 2 odd days.\n\nBut, Feb 2004 not included because we are calculating from March 2004 to March 2005. So it has 1 odd day only.\n\nSo, the day on 6th March, 2005 will be 1 day beyond the day on 6th March, 2004.\n\nGiven that, 6th March, 2005 is Monday.\n\nHence 6th March, 2004 is Sunday..\n\n#### Question No 11\n\nFind the correctly spelt word.\n\nSolution!\nNo answer description available for this question..\n\n#### Question No 12\n\nA boat travels at the speed of 25 km\/h upstream and 35 km\/h downstream. Find the speed of water.\n\nSolution!\nUpstream speed = y = 25 Km\/h\nDownstream speed = x = 35 Km\/h\nSpeed of water = (1\/2)*(x-y)\n= (1\/2)*(35-35) = 5 Km\/h.\n\n#### Question No 13\n\nWhich one of the following is always found in factories?\n\nSolution!\nNo answer description available for this question..\n\n#### Question No 14\n\nWhich one of the following is always associated with 'tree'?\n\nSolution!\nNo answer description available for this question..\n\n#### Question No 15\n\nWhat is the length of a bridge if a train of length 550 meters travelling at the speed of 20m\/s can cross it in 35 seconds?\n\nSolution!\nLength of train = L1 = 550m\nSpeed = v = 20m\/s\nTime = t = 35s\nLength of bridge = L2 = ?\n\nt = (L1+L2)\/v\nBy putting values\n35 = (550+L2)\/20\n700 - 550 = L2\nL2 = 150m\n\nHence length of bridge is 150 meter..\n\n#### Question No 16\n\nWhich is greater, (A) 5\/8 of 112 , (B) 7\/8 of 88?\n\nSolution!\n(5\/8) * 112 = 70\n\nand\n(7\/8) * 88 = 77\n\nHence, (7\/8) of 88 is greater..\n\n#### Question No 17\n\nIf the product of 4 consecutive integers is 120, which is greater?\n\nSolution!\n5*4*3*2 = 120.\n\n#### Question No 18\n\nIf A\/B is 2\/3 and difference between values of A and B is 10 What is value of B?\n\nSolution!\nIf B is 30, A is 20 so difference of 10 is maintained..\n\n#### Question No 19\n\nPrice of an article increased from $50 to$55. What is the percentage increase?\n\nSolution!\nIncrease in price = 55-50 = 5\nPercentage increase = (5\/50)*100\n=10%.\n\n#### Question No 20\n\nThe miser gazed ...... at the pile of gold coins in front of him.\n\nSolution!\nNo answer description available for this question..\n\n#### Question No 21\n\nIf A is Brother of B but B is not Brother of A then who is B?\n\nSolution!\nB is a girl and A is her brother..\n\n#### Question No 22\n\nAnupam said to a lady sitting in a car, \"The only daughter of the brother of my wife is the sister-in-law of the brother of your sister.\" How the husband of the lady is related to Anupam?\n\nSolution!\nAnupam's son-in-law is the brother of the lady who was sitting in the car. Hence, the husband is also the son-in-law of Anupam..\n\n#### Question No 23\n\n10 women can complete a work in 7 days and 10 children take 14 days to complete the work.How many days will 5 women and 10 children take to complete the work?\n\nSolution!\n1 woman's 1 day's work =1\/70\n\n1 child's 1 day's work =1\/140\n\n(5 women + 10 children)'s 1 day's work = (5\/70 + 10\/140) = (1\/14 + 1\/14) = 1\/7\n\nHence, 5 women and 10 children will complete the work in 7 days..\n\n#### Question No 24\n\nFind the correctly spelt word.\n\nSolution!\nNo answer description available for this question..\n\n#### Question No 25\n\nThe 15th of the month falls on the day preceding Sunday, on what day will the 6th of the month fall?\n\nSolution!\nAs on 15th of the month day is Saturday so on 8th the day will also Saturday. Hence on 6th of the month day will be Thursday(Two days before Saturday)..\n\n#### Question No 26\n\nJohn's income increased from $12000 to$14400. What is percentage increase in his income?\n\nSolution!\nIncrease in income = 14400 - 12000 = 2400\n\nPercentage increase = (2400\/12000)*100 = 20%.\n\n#### Question No 27\n\n0 , 1 , 4 , 9 , 16 , 25 , 36 , 49 , ?\n\nSolution!\nAdd 1, 3, 5, 7, etc..\n\n#### Question No 28\n\nKamal was 4 times as old as his son 8 years ago. After 8 years, Kamal will be twice as old as his son. Find out the present age of Kamal.\n\nSolution!\nLet the age of the son before 8 years = x\n\nThen age of Kamal before 8 years ago = 4x\n\nAfter 8 years, Kamal will be twice as old as his son\n\n4x + 16 = 2(x + 16)\nx = 8\n\nPresent age of Kamal = 4x + 8 = (4*8) + 8 = 40.\n\n#### Question No 29\n\nAmit said - \"This girl is the wife of the grandson of my mother\". How is Amit related to the girl?\n\nSolution!\nThe girl is the wife of grandson of Amit's mother i.e., the girl is the wife of son of Amit.\n\nHence, Amit is the father-in-law of the girl..\n\n#### Question No 30\n\nThe sum of the ages of a son and a father is 64. After 4 years the age of father will be three times that of his son's. The age of father is\n\nSolution!\nLet present age of son is x and present age of father is y.\n\nGiven that\nx+y = 64 ...(1)\n\nand\ny+4 = 3(x+4)\ny+4 = 3x + 12\ny-3x = 8 ...(2)\n\nPut value of x from equation(1) in equation(2)\n\ny-3(64-y) = 8\ny-192+3y = 8\n4y = 200\ny = 50\n\nHence present age of the father is 50 years..\n1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30","date":"2021-06-13 03:01:58","metadata":"{\"extraction_info\": {\"found_math\": true, \"script_math_tex\": 0, \"script_math_asciimath\": 0, \"math_annotations\": 0, \"math_alttext\": 0, \"mathml\": 0, \"mathjax_tag\": 0, \"mathjax_inline_tex\": 1, \"mathjax_display_tex\": 0, \"mathjax_asciimath\": 0, \"img_math\": 0, \"codecogs_latex\": 0, \"wp_latex\": 0, \"mimetex.cgi\": 0, \"\/images\/math\/codecogs\": 0, \"mathtex.cgi\": 0, \"katex\": 0, \"math-container\": 0, \"wp-katex-eq\": 0, \"align\": 0, \"equation\": 0, \"x-ck12\": 0, \"texerror\": 0, \"math_score\": 0.36474084854125977, \"perplexity\": 1941.570634851988}, \"config\": {\"markdown_headings\": true, \"markdown_code\": false, \"boilerplate_config\": {\"ratio_threshold\": 0.18, \"absolute_threshold\": 10, \"end_threshold\": 15, \"enable\": true}, \"remove_buttons\": true, \"remove_image_figures\": true, \"remove_link_clusters\": true, \"table_config\": {\"min_rows\": 2, \"min_cols\": 3, \"format\": \"plain\"}, \"remove_chinese\": true, \"remove_edit_buttons\": true, \"extract_latex\": true}, \"warc_path\": \"s3:\/\/commoncrawl\/crawl-data\/CC-MAIN-2021-25\/segments\/1623487598213.5\/warc\/CC-MAIN-20210613012009-20210613042009-00293.warc.gz\"}"} | null | null |
Q: Using Dotfuscator with .net core Googling showed me no results on how to use Dotfuscator to obfuscate .DLLs targeting .NET Core 1.0. Should I just use ordinary Dotfuscator version and no special settings for that? Will the resulting obfuscated .dll still be fully compatible with .NET Core?
A: Since Dotfuscator is a commercial product, you can contact their support and ask about .NET Core / netstandard compatibility. If dotfuscator was able to obfuscate old PCL assemblies, it should work for .NET Core as well.
Recently I've tested open-source Obfuscar with my assembly that targets netstandard1.5, and I was able to use the dll in .NET Core project after obfuscation.
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Der Dieb von Bagdad / The Thief of Bagdad
Author: Thorsten Gimmler
Publisher: Queen Games / Rio Grande Games
When someone has acquired a bit too much wealth, there are others who are more than willing to balance this unasked. Of course there are enough candidates to perform this noble task; take Ali and his comrades for instance, all from a well respected thieves guild. For them this is daily and hard labour: try to avoid the guards and slip into the palace unseen, climb against the walls of one of the six palaces in Bagdad, and set the owner of the treasure chest free from his sorrow with the help of our nephews, cousins and other relatives, all dependent on the measurements of the chest. This could be mistaken for plundering or theft, but in fact it is macro financial management combined with a short term demand on the goods market; the thieves guild in Bagdad has its own oriental and peculiar view on the world too. When any of the two to four players has managed to collect the required amount of treasures he has won the game.
The board depicts six palaces against an oriental decorated backgorund; each of the palaces is erected in a distinct and different colour. At games start the treasures are divided among the palaces; each stack consists of an increasing amount of thieves that are needed to secure the chest, starting with the lowest requirement of four thieves.
At the start of play a neutral guard is placed at one of the four available spots in front of each of the six palaces; thereafter each player may place two to four (dependant on the amount of players) own coloured guards in front of any of the palaces. These represent guards that they bribed as this is a prerequisite for a thief to enter a palace. A deck of cards depicting the six palaces is shuffled and the starting player gets six of these; any following player is dealt one to three additional cards. The thieves guild is available in the players colours and ready to meet action when a player plays one or more cards.
In a turn, unlimited cards may be played that each have a colour of one of the palaces; these cards move a neutral or own guard or a thief, the latter is placed at the inner court of the palace. To get a thief to enter a palace, palace cards equal to the number of neutral or foreign guards must be played. Furthermore, at least one guard of the player must be present at the palace, as well as one neutral guard. The guards of a player can also be moved to other palaces, if there still is space for them. Moving such a guard costs a palace card in the colour of either the palace the guard came from, or the colour of the palace where the guard is moved to. Together with moving a guard, a player may take a thief from the old palace, and take it to the new one with no additional costs. Moving neutral guards costs two cards instead: one in each colour of the two palaces. Players may play cards unlimited, but in a turn they may not move or deploy more than three thieves.
As a consequence of this, guards are moved back and forth, until enough thieves have entered a palace so a chest can be lifted; the thieves involved go back to the players stock. Now there is a next chest in the palace that needs one more thief, and thus makes it more difficult to claim it.
Three cards are drawn blind at the end of a turn; if a player forfeits any action he may take four cards, one of which is a wild card that can be used for any colour.
Of course a player constantly lacks the right number or colour of cards, or gets hindered by a player who has placed additional guards at a palace where he was planning to bring in some thieves cheaply, with a minimum of cards. A player who is doing well, will more likely get hindered by these kind of actions from other players, but in the end self-interest prevails: how to get as fast as possible, with a minimum of cards to the next, and maybe winning chest?
The mapboard is very moody and illustrated with lots of detail, done by Michael Menzel. Each of the palaces and the corresponding cards have a distinct symbol which makes it easy for the colour-blind to match them. As an aside must be remarked, that an increasing number of publishers take consideration with this apparently large group of grey-sighted, and in this game the matter is elegantly solved. It is already hard enough for some people to distinguish green from blue or brown from black, and what one still calls orange already is regarded as yellow for the other; apparently not everyone has been set with a calibrated colour spectrum.
By playing the dancer card as a wild card, card luck is reduced slightly, but to get such a card a player has to forfeit a turn. Some planning and a little tactics can be used in this game, but in the end 'Thieves of Bagdad' is an uncomplicated swift game with no hurdles that takes less than an hour and will attract players of any kind.
© 2006 Richard van Vugt
Der Dieb von Bagdad / Thieves of Bagdad, Thorsten Gimmler, Queen Games / Rio Grande Games, 2006 - 2 to 4 players, 8 years and up, 60 minutes
Also read the | {
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\section{Introduction}
We consider the motion of a viscous incompressible fluid in a physical body $\Omega$ -- a bounded Lipschitz domain in $\mathbb R^3$ during the interval $\mathcal I=(0,T)$.
The motion of the fluid is governed by the Navier--Stokes equations
\begin{align} \varrho\big(\partial_t \bfu+(\bfu\cdot\nabla)\bfu\big)&=\mu\Delta\bfu-\nabla \pi+\bff,\quad \Div\bfu=0,&\label{1}
\end{align}
in $\mathcal I\times\Omega$, where $\bfu:\mathcal I\times\Omega\rightarrow\mathbb R^3$ is the velocity field and $\pi:\mathcal I\times\Omega\rightarrow\mathbb R$ the pressure function. The quantity $\bff:\mathcal I\times\Omega\rightarrow \mathbb R^3$ is an external forcing, $\varrho$ is the density and $\mu$ the viscosity -- two positive constants which will be set to 1 in the following for simplicity.
The existence of weak solutions to \eqref{1} has been established in the 1930's by Leray \cite{Ler}.
The regularity of solutions to \eqref{1} is an outstanding open problem which has been attracting mathematicians for decades -- still we are far away from a complete understanding (though some remarkable recent progress on the non-uniqueness of weak solutions has been made based on the method
of convex integration, cf. \cite{Col,BV,BCV}).
The state of the art today is partial regularity. This means that the velocity field is locally bounded/H\"older continuous outside a negligible set of the space-time cylinder (further regularity properties inside this set can be deduced) with measure zero. Such an analysis has been initiated in a series of papers by Sheffer, see \cite{Sh1}--\cite{Sh4}. A further milestone is the work by Caffarelli-Kohn-Nirenberg in \cite{CKN} on suitable weak solutions. These solutions satisfy a form of the energy inequality which is localised in space-time (hereafter called local energy inequality) which reads as
\begin{equation}\label{energylocal0a}
\begin{split}
\int_ {\Omega}\frac{1}{2}&\zeta\big| \bfu(t)\big|^2\,\mathrm{d}x+\int_0^t\int_ {\Omega}\zeta|\nabla \bfu |^2\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\\& \leq\int_0^t\int_{\Omega}\frac{1}{2}\Big(| \bfu|^2(\partial_t\zeta+\Delta\zeta)+\big(|\bfu|^2+2\pi\big)\bfu\cdot\nabla\zeta\Big)\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma+\int_0^t\int_{\Omega}\zeta\bff\cdot\bfu\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma
\end{split}
\end{equation}
for any $\zeta\in C_c^\infty(\mathcal I\times\Omega)$ with $\zeta\geq0$.
This is a piece of information which has to be included into the definition of a solution as it is otherwise lost in the construction procedure. It is not known (and maybe not even expected) if any weak solution satisfies a local energy inequality (in fact, the same problem appears for the global energy inequality too). As demonstrated in \cite{CKN}, an analysis of the local regularity properties of suitable weak solutions is possible. In particular, a criterion for a solution to \eqref{1} is provided, which yields boundedness of the velocity field in a given point in space-time.
Some further improvements and simplifications can be found in \cite{CL,LaSe,L}.
The regularity of solutions to \eqref{1} at the boundary seems to be less understood. A first results has been achieved by Sheffer in \cite{Sh4} and a more systematic analysis was started by Seregin in \cite{Se1}--\cite{Se3}. Still all these results consider the case of a flat boundary. A flat boundary is the easiest case to consider and one expects that the same results also apply for curved boundaries provided they are sufficiently smooth. Indeed, a corresponding theory for non-flat boundaries of class $C^2$ has been obtained in \cite{SeShSo}. Many applications naturally lead, however, to a boundary of significantly less regularity.
This is particularly motivated by problems from fluid-structure interaction, where the boundary is described by the displacement of an elastic structure. The latter is the solution to a partial differential equation on its own and hence only of limited regularity (we comment further on this in Section \ref{sec:fsi}).
We aim to prove partial regularity of solutions to \eqref{1} at the boundary under minimal assumptions on the regularity of the boundary. Our analysis is based on the concept of boundary suitable weak solutions as in \cite{Se1,SeShSo}.
They satisfy a local energy inequality near a certain part of the boundary (that is, \eqref{energylocal0a} for cut-off functions supported near a part of the boundary), see Definition \ref{def:weakSolution}. So far, even their existence was not known for boundaries with regularity below $C^2$. In order to improve this
we prove a new result on the maximal $L^r_tL^p_x$-theory for the unsteady Stokes system under minimal assumptions
on the boundary regularity, cf. Theorem \ref{thm:stokesunsteady}.
The main assumption is that $\Omega$ is a Lipschitz domain with locally small Lipschitz constant and that the local coordinates (we make this concept precise in Section \ref{sec:para}.) belong to the class of Sobolev multipliers on $W^{2-1/p,p}$ -- the trace space of $W^{2,p}$ to which the velocity field belongs.
The $L^r_tL^p_x$-theory just described provides a parabolic counterpart of the recent results on the steady Stokes system from \cite{Br}
and yields the existence of boundary suitable weak solutions to the Navier--Stokes system \eqref{1} in irregular domains,
cf. Theorem \ref{thm:existence}.
Eventually, we prove a criterion for boundary suitable weak solutions to \eqref{1} which implies continuity of the velocity field in a boundary point (see Theorem \ref{thm:main}) and hence obtain solutions which are continuous
in almost any boundary boundary point (see Theorem \ref{thm:main'}). Our main assumption is that the boundary coordinates belong to the class of Sobolev multipliers on
\begin{align}\label{ass:main}
W^{2-\frac{1}{p},p}(\mathbb R^2)\quad\text{for some}\quad p>\tfrac{15}{4}
\end{align}
with sufficiently small norm. This class includes Lipschitz boundaries with small Lipschitz constant belonging to the class $W^{\sigma,p}(\mathbb R^2)$ for $\sigma>2-1/p$, see Remark \ref{rem:boundary}.
Our approach uses a flattening of the boundary by means of a transformation $\bfPhi\in W^{2,p}(\mathbb R^3)$ which is an extension of the function $\varphi$ describing the boundary locally. This leads to some kind of perturbed Navier--Stokes equations (or perturbed Stokes equations if the convective term is neglected).
We provide a regularity theory for the perturbed Stokes system under minimal assumptions on the coefficients resulting from the flattening (this is similar to that of the Stokes system in irregular domains mentioned above). This is used in the partial regularity proof via the blow-up technique.
There are various stages in the proof of the blow up lemma (see Lemma \ref{Lemma}), which require restrictions on the regularity of $\bfPhi$ (or that of $\varphi$). The most restrictive one is related to the decay of the pressure $\tilde{\mathfrak q}$ of some perturbed Stokes system:
We have to show that
\begin{align}\label{eq:1401}
\tau^{3}\bigg(\dashint_{\mathcal I_\tau}\dashint_{\mathcal B^+_\tau} |\tilde{\mathfrak{q}} - (\tilde{\mathfrak q})_{\mathcal B^+_{\tau}} |^{5/3} \,\mathrm{d}z\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\bigg)^{\frac{9}{5}}\lesssim\tau^{2\alpha}
\end{align}
for some $\alpha>0$ to arrive at a contradiction. Here $\mathcal Q^+_\tau=\mathcal I_\tau\times\mathcal B_\tau^+$ denotes a parabolic half-cylinder centered at the flat boundary with radius $\tau>0$. Estimate \eqref{eq:1401} can be proved by Poincar\'e's inequality if $\nabla\tilde{\mathfrak{q}}$ belongs to the space $L^{5/3}_tL^p_x$ with $p>\frac{15}{4}$.
The term in \eqref{eq:1401} results from our unusual choice of excess functional related to the integrability $L_t^{5/3}L_x^{5/3}$ for the pressure. In order to fine-tune the assumptions on $p$ in \eqref{ass:main} (see Section \ref{sec:opt} for some discussion) we must choose the time-integrability of the pressure as large as possible, where the upper limit is $5/3$ due to the integrability of the convective term.
Details on the $L^{r}_tL^p_x$-theory for the perturbed Stokes system can be found in Lemma \ref{lem:31} (which also implies a useful Caccioppoli-type inequality in Lemma \ref{lem:32}). The latter also yields an estimate for the velocity field $\overline\bfu$ of the perturbed Stokes system in the same space which implies its continuity (we expect this to be true also under weaker assumptions, see the discussion in Section \ref{sec:opt}). This is needed similarly to \eqref{eq:1401} for the decay of the perturbed velocity field.
Finally, the transformation of the local energy inequality from the original to the flat geometry requires some assumptions on the boundary, though weaker than those already mentioned (we refer to the estimates in \eqref{eq:Im2}).
At first glance it seems that one needs $\bfPhi\in W^{2,\infty}$ to control this term. A more careful analysis reveals, however, that it is sufficient if $\bfPhi$ belongs to the Sobolev multiplier class on $W^{2,3/2}$.
Although it remains unclear at this stage if \eqref {ass:main} is optimal for partial boundary regularity, we believe that it will be very difficult to relax it.
We comment further on this in Section \ref{sec:opt}.
\section{Preliminaries and results}
\subsection{Conventions}
We write $f\lesssim g$ for two non-negative quantities $f$ and $g$ if there is a $c>0$ such that $f\leq\,c g$. Here $c$ is a generic constant which does not depend on the crucial quantities and can change from line to line. If necessary we specify particular dependencies. We write $f\approx g$ if $f\lesssim g$ and $g\lesssim f$.
We do not distinguish in the notation for the function spaces between scalar- and vector-valued functions. However, vector-valued functions will usually be denoted in bold case.
\subsection{Classical function spaces}
Let $\mathcal O\subset\mathbb R^m$, $m\geq 1$, be open.
Function spaces of continuous or $\alpha$-H\"older continuous functions, $\alpha\in(0,1)$,
are denoted by $C(\overline{\mathcal O})$ or $C^{0,\alpha}(\overline{\mathcal O})$ respectively. Similarly, we write $C^1(\overline{\mathcal O})$ and $C^{1,\alpha}(\overline{\mathcal O})$.
We denote as usual by $L^p(\mathcal O)$ and $W^{k,p}(\mathcal O)$ for $p\in[1,\infty]$ and $k\in\mathbb N$ Lebesgue and Sobolev spaces over $\mathcal O$. For a bounded domain $\mathcal O$ the space $L^p_\perp(\mathcal O)$ denotes the subspace of $L^p(\mathcal O)$ of functions with zero mean, that is $(f)_{\mathcal O}:=\dashint_{\mathcal O}f\,\mathrm{d}x:=\mathcal L^m(\mathcal O)^{-1}\int_{\mathcal O}f\,\mathrm{d}x=0$.
We denote by $W^{k,p}_0(\mathcal O)$ the closure of the smooth and compactly supported functions in $W^{k,p}(\mathcal O)$. This coincides with the functions vanishing $\mathcal H^{m-1}$ -a.e. on $\partial\mathcal O$ provided $\partial\mathcal O$ is sufficiently regular.
We also denote by $W^{-k,p}(\mathcal O)$ the dual of $W^{k,p}_0(\mathcal O)$.
Finally, we consider the subspace
$W^{1,p}_{0,\Div}(\mathcal O)$ of divergence-free vector fields which is defined accordingly.
We will use the shorthand notations $L^p_x$ and $W^{k,p}_x$ in the case of $3$-dimensional domains and
$L^p_y$ and $W^{k,p}_y$ for $2$-dimensional sets.
For a separable Banach space $(X,\|\cdot\|_X)$ we denote by $L^p(0,T;X)$ the set of (Bochner-) measurable functions $u:(0,T)\rightarrow X$ such that the mapping $t\mapsto \|u(t)\|_{X}\in L^p(0,T)$.
The set $C([0,T];X)$ denotes the space of functions $u:[0,T]\rightarrow X$ which are continuous with respect to the norm topology on $(X,\|\cdot\|_X)$.
The space $W^{1,p}(0,T;X)$ consists of those functions from $L^p(0,T;X)$ for which the distributional time derivative belongs to $L^p(0,T;X)$ as well.
We use the shorthand $L^p_tX$ for $L^p(0,T;X)$. For instance, we write $L^p_tW^{1,p}_x$ for $L^p(0,T;W^{1,p}(\mathcal O))$. Similarly, $W^{k,p}_tX$ stands for $W^{k,p}(0,T;X)$.
The space $C^{\alpha,\beta}([0,T]\times \overline{\mathcal O})$ with $\alpha,\beta\in(0,1]$ denotes the set of functions being $\alpha$-H\"older continuous
in $t\in[0,T]$ and $\beta$-H\"older continuous in $x\in\overline{\mathcal O}$.
\subsection{Fractional differentiability and Sobolev mulitpliers}
\label{sec:SM}
For $p\in[1,\infty)$ the fractional Sobolev space (Sobolev-Slobodeckij space) with differentiability $s>0$ with $s\notin\mathbb N$ will be denoted by $W^{s,p}(\mathcal O)$. For $s>0$ we write $s=\lfloor s\rfloor+\lbrace s\rbrace$ with $\lfloor s\rfloor\in\mathbb N_0$ and $\lbrace s\rbrace\in(0,1)$.
We denote by $W^{s,p}_0(\mathcal O)$ the closure of the smooth and compactly supported functions in $W^{1,p}(\mathcal O)$. For $s>\frac{1}{p}$ this coincides with the functions vanishing $\mathcal H^{m-1}$ -a.e. on $\partial\mathcal O$ provided $\partial\mathcal O$ is regular enough. We also denote by $W^{-s,p}(\mathcal O)$ for $s>0$ the dual of $W^{s,p}_0(\mathcal O)$. Similar to the case of unbroken differentiabilities above we use the shorthand notations $W^{s,p}_x$ and $W^{s,p}_y$..
We will denote by $B^s_{p,q}(\mathbb R^m)$ the standard Besov spaces on $\mathbb R^m$ with differentiability $s>0$, integrability $p\in[1,\infty]$ and fine index $q\in[1,\infty]$. They can be defined (for instance) via Littlewood-Paley decomposition leading to the norm $\|\cdot\|_{B^s_{p,q}(\mathbb R^m)}$.
We refer to \cite{RuSi} and \cite{Tr,Tr2} for an extensive picture.
The Besov spaces $B^s_{p,q}(\mathcal O)$ for a bounded domain $\mathcal O\subset\mathbb R^m$ are defined as the restriction of functions from $B^s_{p,q}(\mathbb R^m)$, that is
\begin{align*}
B^s_{p,q}(\mathcal O)&:=\{f|_{\mathcal O}:\,f\in B^s_{p,q}(\mathbb R^m)\},\\
\|g\|_{B^s_{p,q}(\mathcal O)}&:=\inf\{ \|f\|_{B^s_{p,q}(\mathbb R^m)}:\,f|_{\mathcal O}=g\}.
\end{align*}
If $s\notin\mathbb N$ and $p\in(1,\infty)$ we have $B^s_{p,p}(\mathcal O)=W^{s,p}(\mathcal O)$.
In accordance with \cite[Chapter 14]{MaSh} the Sobolev multiplier norm is given by
\begin{align}\label{eq:SoMo}
\|\varphi\|_{\mathcal M^{s,p}(\mathcal O)}:=\sup_{\bfv:\,\|\bfv\|_{W^{s-1,p}(\mathcal O)}=1}\|\nabla\varphi\cdot\bfv\|_{W^{s-1,p}(\mathcal O)},
\end{align}
where $p\in[1,\infty]$ and $s\geq1$.
The space $\mathcal M^{s,p}(\mathcal O)$ of Sobolev multipliers is defined as those objects for which the $\mathcal M^{s,p}(\mathcal O)$-norm is finite. For $\delta>0$ we denote by $\mathcal M^{s,p}(\mathcal O)(\delta)$ the subset of functions from
$\mathcal M^{s,p}(\mathcal O)$ with $\mathcal M^{s,p}(\mathcal O)$-norm not exceeding $\delta$.
By mathematical induction with respect to $s$ one can prove for Lipschitz-continuous functions $\varphi$ that membership to $\mathcal M^{s,p}(\mathcal O)$ in the sense of \eqref{eq:SoMo} implies that
\begin{align}\label{eq:SoMo'}
\sup_{w:\,\|w\|_{W^{s,p}(\mathcal O)}=1}\|\varphi \,w\|_{W^{s,p}(\mathcal O)}<\infty.
\end{align}
The quantity \eqref{eq:SoMo'} also serves as customary definition of the Sobolev multiplier norm in the literature but \eqref{eq:SoMo} is more suitable for our purposes.
Let us finally collect some some useful properties of Sobolev multipliers.
By \cite[Corollary 14.6.2]{MaSh} we have
\begin{align}\label{eq:MSa}
\|\phi\|_{\mathcal M^{s,p}(\mathbb R^{m})}\lesssim\|\nabla\phi\|_{L^{\infty}(\mathbb R^m)},
\end{align}
provided that one of the following conditions holds:
\begin{itemize}
\item $p(s-1)<m$ and $\phi\in B^{s}_{\varrho,p}(\mathbb R^{m})$ with $\varrho\in\big[\frac{pm}{p(s-1)-1},\infty\big]$;
\item $p(s-1)=m$ and $\phi\in B^{s}_{\varrho,p}(\mathbb R^m)$ with $\varrho\in(p,\infty]$.
\end{itemize}
Note that the hidden constant in \eqref{eq:MSa} depends on the $B^{s}_{\varrho,p}(\mathbb R^{m})$-norm of $\phi$.
By \cite[Corollary 4.3.8]{MaSh} it holds
\begin{align}\label{eq:MSb}
\|\phi\|_{\mathcal M^{s,p}(\mathbb R^{m})}\approx
\|\nabla\phi\|_{W^{s-1,p}(\mathbb R^{m})}
\end{align}
for $p(s-1)>m$.
Finally, we note the following rule about the composition with Sobolev multipliers which is a consequence of \cite[Lemma 9.4.1]{MaSh}. For open sets $\mathcal O_1,\mathcal O_2\subset\mathbb R^m$, $u\in W^{s,p}(\mathcal O_2)$ and a Lipschitz continuous function $\bfphi:\mathcal O_1\rightarrow\mathcal O_2$ with $\bfphi\in \mathcal M^{s,p}(\mathcal O_1)$ and Lipschitz continuous inverse $\bfphi^{-1}:\mathcal O_2\rightarrow\mathcal O_1$ we have
\begin{align}\label{lem:9.4.1}
\|u\circ\bfphi\|_{W^{s,p}(\mathcal O_1)}\lesssim \|u\|_{W^{s,p}(\mathcal O_2)}
\end{align}
with constant depending on $\bfphi$.
\subsection{Parametrisation of domains}\label{sec:para}
In this section we present the necessary framework to parametrise
the boundary of the underlying domain $\Omega\subset\mathbb R^3$ by local maps of a certain regularity. This yields, in particular, a rigorous definition of a $\mathcal M^{s,p}$-boundary. We follow the presentation from \cite{Br}.
We assume that $\partial\Omega$ can be covered by a finite
number of open sets $\mathcal U^1,\dots,\mathcal U^\ell$ for some $\ell\in\mathbb N$, such that
the following holds. For each $j\in\{1,\dots,\ell\}$ there is a reference point
$y^j\in\mathbb R^3$ and a local coordinate system $\{e^j_1,e^j_2,e_3^j\}$ (which we assume
to be orthonormal and set $\mathcal Q_j=(e_1^j|e_2^j |e_3^j)\in\mathbb R^{3\times 3}$), a function
$\varphi_j:\mathbb R^{2}\rightarrow\mathbb R$
and $r_j>0$
with the following properties:
\begin{enumerate}[label={\bf (A\arabic{*})}]
\item\label{A1} There is $h_j>0$ such that
$$\mathcal U^j=\{x=\mathcal Q_jz+y^j\in\mathbb R^3:\,z=(z',z_3)\in\mathbb R^3,\,|z'|<r_j,\,
|z_3-\varphi_j(z')|<h_j\}.$$
\item\label{A2} For $x\in\mathcal U^j$ we have with $z=\mathcal Q_j^t(x-y^j)$
\begin{itemize}
\item $x\in\partial\Omega$ if and only if $z_3=\varphi_j(z')$;
\item $x\in\Omega$ if and only if $0<z_3-\varphi_j(z')<h_j$;
\item $x\notin\Omega$ if and only if $0>z_3-\varphi_j(z')>-h_j$.
\end{itemize}
\item\label{A3} We have that
$$\partial\Omega\subset \bigcup_{j=1}^\ell\mathcal U^j.$$
\end{enumerate}
In other words, for any $x_0\in\partial\Omega$ there is a neighborhood $U$ of $x_0$ and a function $\phi:\mathbb R^{2}\rightarrow\mathbb R$ such that after translation and rotation\footnote{By translation via $y_j$ and rotation via $\mathcal Q_j$ we can assume that $x_0=0$ and that the outer normal at~$x_0$ is pointing in the negative $x_3$-direction.}
\begin{align}\label{eq:3009}
U \cap \Omega = U \cap G,\quad G = \set{(x',x_3)\in \mathbb R^3 \,:\, x' \in \mathbb R^{2}, x_3 > \phi(x')}
\end{align}
The regularity of $\partial\Omega$ will be described by means of local coordinates as just described.
\begin{definition}\label{def:besovboundary}
Let $\Omega\subset\mathbb R^3$ be a bounded domain, $s\geq 1$ and $p\in[1,\infty]$. We say that $\partial\Omega$ belongs to the class $\mathcal M^{s,p}$ if there is $\ell\in\mathbb N$ and functions $\varphi_1,\dots,\varphi_\ell\in \mathcal M^{s,p}(\mathbb R^2)$ satisfying \ref{A1}--\ref{A3}.
\end{definition}
Clearly, we can define similarly a $\mathcal M^{s,p}(\delta)$-boundary for some $\delta>0$ by requiring that $\varphi_1,\dots,\varphi_\ell\in \mathcal M^{s,p}(\mathbb R^2)(\delta)$.
Analogous definitions apply for various other function spaces such as $B^s_{\varrho,p}$ for $s>0$ and $\varrho,p\in[1,\infty]$ or $C^{1,\alpha}$ for $\alpha\in(0,1]$. Of particular importance for us is also a Lipschitz boundary, where $\varphi_1,\dots,\varphi_\ell\in W^{1,\infty}(\mathbb R^{2})$. We say that the Lipschitz constant of $\partial\Omega$, denoted by $\mathrm{Lip}(\partial\Omega)$, is (smaller or) equal to some number $L>0$ provided the Lipschitz constants of $\varphi_1,\dots,\varphi_\ell$ are not exceeding $L$.
\begin{remark}\label{rem:boundary}
It follows from \eqref{eq:MSa} and \eqref{eq:MSb} that $\partial\Omega\in \mathcal M^{s,p}(\delta)$
provided $\Omega$ is a Lipschitz domain with sufficiently small Lipschitz constant and $\partial\Omega\in B^\theta_{\varrho, p}$ for $\theta>s$ and
\begin{align}\label{eq:SMp}
\varrho\geq p\quad\text{if}\quad p(s-1)\geq 3,\quad \varrho\geq \tfrac{2p}{p(s-1)-1}\quad\text{if}\quad p(s-1)< 3,
\end{align}
The Lipschitz constant can be made sufficiently small, for instance, if $\partial\Omega\in C^{1,\alpha}$ for some $\alpha>0$.
\end{remark}
In order to describe the behaviour of functions defined in $\Omega$ close to the boundary we need to extend the functions $\varphi_1,\dots,\varphi_\ell$ from \ref{A1}--\ref{A3} to the half space
$\mathbb H := \set{\xi = (\xi',\xi_3)\,:\, \xi_3 > 0}$. Hence we are confronted with the task of extending a function~$\phi\,:\, \mathbb R^{2}\to \mathbb R$ to a mapping $\Phi\,:\, \mathbb H \to \mathbb R^3$ that maps the 0-neighborhood in~$\mathbb H$ to the $x_0$-neighborhood in~$\Omega$. The mapping $(\xi',0) \mapsto (\xi',\phi(\xi'))$ locally maps the boundary of~$\mathbb H$ to the one of~$\partial \Omega$. We extend this mapping using the extension operator of Maz'ya and Shaposhnikova~\cite[Section 9.4.3]{MaSh}. Let $\zeta \in C^\infty_c(B_1(0'))$ with $\zeta \geq 0$ and $\int_{\mathbb R^{2}} \zeta(x')\,\mathrm{d}x'=1$. Let $\zeta_t(x') := t^{-2} \zeta(x'/t)$ denote the induced family of mollifiers. We define the extension operator
\begin{align*}
(\mathcal{T}\phi)(\xi',\xi_3)=\int_{\mathbb R^{2}} \zeta_{\xi_3}(\xi'-y')\phi(y')\,\mathrm{d}y',\quad (\xi',\xi_3) \in \mathbb H,
\end{align*}
where~$\phi:\mathbb R^2\to \mathbb R$ is a Lipschitz function with Lipschitz constant~$L$.
Then the estimate
\begin{align}\label{est:ext}
\norm{\nabla (\mathcal{T} \phi)}_{W^{s,p}(\setR^{3})}\le c\norm{\nabla \phi}_{W^{s-\frac 1 p,p}(\setR^{2})}
\end{align}
follows from~\cite[Theorem 8.7.2]{MaSh}. Moreover, \cite[Theorem 8.7.1]{MaSh} yields
\begin{align}\label{eq:MS}
\|\mathcal T\phi\|_{\mathcal M^{s,p}(\mathbb H)}\lesssim \|\phi\|_{\mathcal M^{s-\frac{1}{p},p}(\mathbb R^{2})}.
\end{align}
It is shown in \cite[Lemma 9.4.5]{MaSh} that (for sufficiently large~$N$, i.e., $N \geq c(\zeta) L+1$) the mapping
\begin{align*}
\alpha_{z'}(z_3) \mapsto N\,z_3+(\mathcal{T} \phi)(z',z_3)
\end{align*}
is for every $z' \in \setR^{2}$ one to one and the inverse is Lipschitz with gradient
bounded by $(N-L)^{-1}$.
Now, we define the mapping~$\bfPhi\,:\, \mathbb H \to \mathbb R^3$ as a rescaled version of the latter one by setting
\begin{align}\label{eq:Phi}
\bfPhi(\xi',\xi_3)
&:=
\big(\xi',
\alpha_{\xi_3}(\xi')\big) =
\big(\xi',
\,\xi_3 + (\mathcal{T} \phi)(\xi',\xi_3/N)\big).
\end{align}
Thus, $\bfPhi$ is one-to-one (for sufficiently large~$N=N(L)$) and we can define its inverse $\bfPsi := \bfPhi^{-1}$.
The Jacobi matrix of the mapping $\bfPhi$ satisfies
\begin{align}\label{J}
J = \nabla \bfPhi =
\begin{pmatrix}
\mathbb I_{2\times 2}&0
\\
\partial_{\xi'} (\mathcal{T} \phi)& 1+ 1/N\partial_{\xi_n}\mathcal{T} \phi
\end{pmatrix}.
\end{align}
Since
$\abs{\partial_{\xi_3}\mathcal{T} \phi} \leq L$, we have \begin{align}\label{eq:detJ}\frac{1}{2} < 1-L/N \leq \abs{\det(J)} \leq 1+L/N\leq 2\end{align}
using that $N$ is large compared to~$L$. Finally, we note the implication
\begin{align} \label{eq:SMPhiPsi}
\bfPhi\in\mathcal M^{s,p}(\mathbb H)\,\,\Rightarrow \,\,\bfPsi\in \mathcal M^{s,p}(\mathbb H),
\end{align}
which holds, for instance, if $\bfPhi$ is Lipschitz continuous, cf. \cite[Lemma 9.4.2]{MaSh}.
\begin{remark}\label{rem:cover}
\begin{enumerate}
\item
Since the cover $\mathcal U^1,\dots,\mathcal U^\ell$ is open it is possible to find a number $\mathfrak R>0$ (depending on the cover) such that the following holds: for every $x\in\partial\Omega$ there is $j\in\{1,\dots,\ell\}$ such that $x\in \mathcal U^j$ and $\mathrm{dist}(x,\mathbb R^3\setminus \mathcal U^j)\geq \mathfrak R$.
\item Similarly, by possibly decreasing $\mathfrak R$, we have the following: there is $\delta>0$ (depending on the cover) such that for any $x\in\Omega$ with $\mathrm{dist}(x,\partial\Omega)\leq \delta$
there is $j\in\{1,\dots,\ell\}$ such that $x\in \mathcal U^j$ and $\mathrm{dist}(x,\mathbb R^3\setminus \mathcal U^j)\geq \mathfrak R$.
\end{enumerate}
\end{remark}
\subsection{The main results}\label{sec:mainresults}
We start with a definition of boundary suitable weak solutions adapting the notation from \cite{SeShSo}. These solutions satisfy a local form of the energy inequality in the neighborhood of boundary points.
For that purpose we fix two numbers $r_\ast\in(1,2)$ and $s_\ast\in(1,\frac{3}{2})$ such that $\frac{1}{r_\ast}+\frac{3}{2s_\ast}\geq 2$. The choice comes from the fact that the convective term $(\nabla\bfu)\bfu$ of a weak solution to \eqref{1} belongs to $L^{r_\ast}_tL^{s_\ast}_x$. Later on we will choose $r_\ast=5/3$ and, accordingly, $s_\ast=15/14$.
\begin{definition}[Boundary suitable weak solution] \label{def:weakSolution}
Let $\Omega\subset\mathbb R^3$ be a bounded Lipschitz domain and $\Gamma\subset\partial\Omega$ relatively open.
Let $(\bff, \bfu_0)$ be a dataset such that
\begin{equation}
\begin{aligned}
\label{dataset}
&\bff \in L^{r_\ast}\big(\mathcal I; L^{s_\ast}(\Omega)\big),\quad
\bfu_0\in W^{2,s_\ast}\cap W^{1,2}_{0,\mathrm{\Div}}(\Omega).
\end{aligned}
\end{equation}
We call the triple
$(\bfu,\pi,\varphi)$
a boundary suitable weak solution to the Navier--Stokes system \eqref{1} hear $\Gamma$ with data $(\bff, \bfu_0)$ provided that the following holds:
\begin{itemize}
\item[(a)] The velocity field $\bfu$ satisfies
\begin{align*}
\bfu \in L^\infty \big(\mathcal I; L^2(\Omega) \big)\cap L^2 \big(\mathcal I; W^{1,2}_{0,\Div}(\Omega) \big) \cap L^{r_\ast}(\mathcal I;W^{2,s_\ast}(\Omega))\cap W^{1,r_\ast}(\mathcal I;L^{s_\ast}(\Omega)).
\end{align*}
\item[(b)] The pressure $\pi$ satisfies
$$\pi\in L^{r_\ast}(\mathcal I;W^{1,s_\ast}_\perp(\Omega)).$$
\item[c)]
We have\footnote{after translation via $y_j$ and rotation via $\mathcal Q_j$, cf. Section \ref{sec:para}.}
\begin{align*}
\Gamma \subset \partial\Omega \cap G,\quad G = \set{(x',x_3)\in \mathbb R^n \,:\, x' \in \mathbb R^{2}, x_3 = \varphi(x')}
\end{align*}
for some Lipschitz function $\varphi:\mathbb R^2\rightarrow\mathbb R$ satisfying
\begin{align}\label{eq:varphi}
\varphi(0)=0,\quad \nabla\varphi(0)=0.
\end{align}
\item[(d)] We have
\begin{align*}
\partial_t \bfu+(\bfu\cdot\nabla)\bfu&=\Delta\bfu-\nabla \pi+\bff,\quad \Div\bfu=0,\quad\bfu|_{\partial\Omega}=0,\quad \bfu(0,\cdot)=\bfu_0,
\end{align*}
a.a. in $\mathcal I\times\Omega$.
\item[(e)] for any $\zeta\in C_c^\infty(\mathcal I\times\mathbb R^3)$ with $\zeta\geq0$ and $\mathrm{spt}(\zeta) \subset \mathcal I\times(\mathbb R^3\setminus \Gamma)$ the local energy inequality
\begin{equation}\label{energylocal0}
\begin{split}
\int_ {\Omega}\frac{1}{2}&\zeta\big| \bfu(t)\big|^2\,\mathrm{d}x+\int_0^t\int_ {\Omega}\zeta|\nabla \bfu |^2\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\\& \leq\int_0^t\int_{\Omega}\frac{1}{2}\Big(| \bfu|^2(\partial_t\zeta+\Delta\zeta)+\big(|\bfu|^2+2\pi\big)\bfu\cdot\nabla\zeta\Big)\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma+\int_0^t\int_{\Omega}\zeta\bff\cdot\bfu\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma.
\end{split}
\end{equation}
holds.
\end{itemize}
\end{definition}
The next theorem shows that, under suitable assumptions on $\partial\Omega$, there is a solution to \eqref{1} which is a boundary suitable weak solution around every boundary point.
\begin{theorem}\label{thm:existence}
Suppose that $\Omega\subset\mathbb R^3$ is a bounded Lipschitz domain such that $\mathrm{Lip}(\partial\Omega)\leq\delta$ and $\partial\Omega\in \mathcal M^{2-1/s_\ast,s_\ast}(\delta)$ for some sufficiently small $\delta$. Then there is a solution $(\bfu,\pi)$ to the Navier--Stokes equations \eqref{1} with the following property: For every point $x_0\in\partial\Omega$ there is a neighborhood $\mathcal U(x_0)$ such that $(\bfu,\pi)$ generates a boundary suitable weak solution to the Navier--Stokes system \eqref{1}
near $\mathcal U(x_0)\cap\partial\Omega$ in the sense of Definition \ref{def:weakSolution}.
\end{theorem}
\begin{proof}
Applying a standard regularisation procedure (by convolution with a mollifying kernel) to the functions $\varphi_1,\dots,\varphi_\ell$ from \ref{A1}--\ref{A3} in the parametrisation of $\partial\Omega$ we obtain a smooth boundary. Classically, the solution to the corresponding Stokes system is smooth.
Such a procedure is standard and has been applied, for instance, in \cite{cm-1,CiMa}. It is possible to do this in a way that the original domain is included in the regularised domain to which we extend the functions $\bff$ and $\bfu_0$ by means of an extension operator.
The regularisation applied to the $\varphi_j's$ converges on all Besov spaces with $p<\infty$. As shown in \cite[Lemma 4.3.3.]{MaSh}
it does not expand the $\mathcal M^{s,p}(\mathbb R^{2})$-norm, which is sufficient. For a smooth domain the statement of Theorem \ref{thm:existence} is well-known (it can, for instance, be proved along the lines of \cite{CKN}). We obtain a sequence of functions $(\bfu_m,\pi_m)$ which satisfy the Navier--Stokes equations as well as the local energy inequality \eqref{energylocal0}. Clearly, they can be constructed to also satisfy the global energy inequality. Hence our sequence $(\bfu_m)$ is bounded in the energy space
\begin{align*}
L^\infty(\mathcal I;L^2(\Omega))\cap L^2(\mathcal I;W^{1,2}_{0,\Div}(\Omega)).
\end{align*}
As a consequence, we can bound the convective term $(\nabla\bfu_m)\bfu_m$ in $L^{r_\ast}(I;L^{s_\ast}(\Omega))$. Now we come to the crucial point: By the maximal regularity theory for the Stokes system from Theorem \ref{thm:stokesunsteady} below we have
\begin{align}\label{eq:2505}
\begin{aligned}
\|\partial_t\bfu_m\|_{L^{r_\ast}(\mathcal I;L^{s_\ast}(\Omega))}&+\|\bfu_m\|_{L^{r_\ast}(\mathcal I;W^{2,s_\ast}(\Omega))
+\|\pi_m\|_{L^{r_\ast}(\mathcal I;W^{1,s_\ast}(\Omega))}\\&\lesssim \|\bff\|_{L^{r_\ast}(\mathcal I;L^{s_\ast}(\Omega)}+\|(\nabla\bfu_m)\bfu_m\|_{L^{r_\ast}(\mathcal I;L^{s_\ast}(\Omega)}+\|\bfu_0\|_{W^{2,s_\ast}(\Omega)}
\end{aligned}
\end{align}
uniformly in $m$.
With \eqref{eq:2505} at hand, we obtain (after passing to a subsequence) limit objects with the claimed regularity and can pass to the limit in the momentum equation and local energy inequality.
\end{proof}
\begin{theorem}\label{thm:main}
Let $\Omega\subset\mathbb R^3$ be a bounded Lipschitz domain and $\Gamma\subset\partial\Omega$ relatively open. Suppose that $\bff\in L^p(\mathcal I;L^p(\Omega))$ for some $p>\frac{15}{4}$.
There is a number $\varepsilon_{0}>0$ such that the following holds. Let $(\bfu,\pi,\varphi)$ be a boundary suitable weak solution to the Navier--Stokes system \eqref{1} near $\Gamma$ in the sense of Definition \ref{def:weakSolution}, where $\varphi\in\mathcal M^{2-1/p,p}(\mathbb R^2)(\delta)$ with $\|\varphi\|_{W^{1,\infty}_y}\leq\delta$ and sufficiently small $\delta>0$.
Let $x_0\in\Gamma$ and $t_0\in I$ such that
\begin{align}
r^{-2}\int_{t_0-r^2}^{t_0+r^2}\int_{\Omega\cap \mathcal B_r(x_0)}|\bfu|^3\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}t+\bigg(r^{-5/3}\int_{t_0-r^2}^{t_0+r^2}\int_{\Omega\cap \mathcal B_r(x_0)}|\pi|^{5/3}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d} t\bigg)^{\frac{9}{5}}<\varepsilon_0
\end{align}
for some $r\leq \mathrm{dis}(x_0,\mathbb R^3\setminus\Gamma)$.
Then we have $\bfu\in C^{0,\alpha}(\overline{\mathcal U}(t_0,x_0))$ for some $\alpha>0$ and a neighborhood $\mathcal U(t_0,x_0)$ of $(t_0,x_0)$.
\end{theorem}
Denoting by $\mathcal H^s_{\mathrm{para}}$ the $s$-dimensional parabolic Hausdorff measure (and using its definition based on covering with parabolic cubes) it is standard to deduce the following result concerning the size of the singular set from Theorem \ref{thm:main}.
\begin{theorem}\label{thm:main'}
Suppose that $\Omega\subset\mathbb R^3$ is a bounded Lipschitz domain such that $\mathrm{Lip}(\partial\Omega)\leq\delta$ and $\partial\Omega\in \mathcal M^{2-1/p,p}(\delta)$ for some $p>\frac{15}{4}$ and sufficiently small $\delta$. Suppose that $\bff\in L^p(\mathcal I;L^p(\Omega))$.
Then there is a solution $(\bfu,\pi)$ to the Navier--Stokes equations \eqref{1} and a closed set $\Sigma\subset I\times \partial\Omega$ with $\mathcal H^{5/3}_{\mathrm{para}}(\Sigma)=0$ such that for any $(t_0,x_0)\in I\times \partial\Omega \setminus\Sigma$ we have $\bfu\in C^{0,\alpha}(\overline{\mathcal U}(t_0,x_0))$ for some $\alpha>0$ and a neighborhood $\mathcal U(t_0,x_0)$ of $(t_0,x_0)$.
\end{theorem}
Our result in Theorem \ref{thm:main'} is in terms of the size of the singular set weaker than the result in \cite{SeShSo} for more regular domains. It is shown there that the dimension of the singular set is one rather than $5/3$. We comment on this gap in more detail in Section \ref{sec:setsize}. It is unlcear if this is an intrinsic feature of irregular domains or a drawback of our method.
\section{The Stokes system in irregular domains}
\label{sec:stokesunsteady}
In this section we consider the unsteady Stokes system
\begin{align}\label{eq:Stokesunstay}
\partial_t\bfu=\Delta \bfu-\nabla\pi+\bff,\quad\Div\bfu=0,\quad\bfu|_{I\times\partial{\Omega}}=\bfu_{\partial},\quad \bfu(0,\cdot)=\bfu_0,
\end{align}
in a domain ${\Omega}\subset\mathbb R^3$ with unit normal $\bfn$. The result given in the following theorem is a maximal regularity estimate for the solution in terms of the right-hand side under minimal assumption on the regularity of $\partial{\Omega}$ (see Remark \ref{eq:SMp} for the connecton between Sobolev multipliers and Besov spaces).
\begin{theorem}\label{thm:stokesunsteady}
Let $p,r\in(1,\infty)$ and suppose that ${\Omega}$ is a Lipschitz domain with local Lipschitz constant $\delta$ belonging to the class $\mathcal M^{2-1/p,p}(\mathbb R^2)(\delta)$ for some sufficiently small $\delta$, $\bff\in L^r(\mathcal I;L^{p}({\Omega}))$ and $\bfu_{0}\in W^{2,p}({\Omega})\cap L^{2}_{\Div}({\Omega})$ with $\mathrm{tr}\,\bfu_0=\bfu_\partial$, where $\bfu_{\partial}\in W^{2-1/p,p}(\partial{\Omega})$ with $\int_{\partial{\Omega}}\bfu_\partial\cdot\bfn\,\mathrm d\mathcal H^{2}=0$. Then there is a unique solution to \eqref{eq:Stokesunstay} and we have
\begin{align}\label{eq:mainpara}
\begin{aligned}
\|\partial_t\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I;L^{p}({\Omega}))}&+\|\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I;W^{2,p}({\Omega}))
+\|\pi\|_{L^r(\mathcal I;W^{1,p}({\Omega}))}\\&\lesssim\|\bff\|_{L^r(\mathcal I;L^{p}({\Omega}))}+\|\bfu_{0}\|_{W^{2,p}({\Omega})}+\|\bfu_{\partial}\|_{W^{2-1/p,p}(\partial{\Omega})}.
\end{aligned}
\end{align}
\end{theorem}
\begin{remark}
As shown in \cite[Chapter 14]{MaSh} the assumptions on $\partial\Omega$ in Theorem \ref{thm:stokesunsteady} are sharp already for the Laplace equation.
\end{remark}
\begin{remark}
Theorem \ref{thm:stokesunsteady} provides a parabolic counterpart of the result in the steady Stokes system from \cite[Theorem 3.1]{Br} (with the same assumptions on $\partial\Omega$).
A direct adaption of the ideas used in the proof of the steady analogue from \cite[Theorem 3.1]{Br} is not straightforward due to the appearance of the time-derivative in the divergence-correction.
Hence we follow instead the classical approach from \cite{So} (see also the presentation in \cite[Appendix 2]{Brb}).
The idea is to first solve the problem in the flat geometry
and built the solution of the original problem by concatenating the (transformed) solutions. This is somewhat the opposite way compared to \cite[Theorem 3.1]{Br} and leads to various lower order error terms. They can be controlled for small times and we obtain a global-in-time solution by gluing local solutions together.
\end{remark}
\begin{remark}\label{rem:div}
Since $\mathcal O$ is assumed to be a Lipschitz domain the Bogovskii operator has the usual properties, cf. \eqref{eq:bog} below, and we can extend the result of Theorem \ref{thm:stokesunsteady} to the Stokes problem with a given divergence $h\in L^r(\mathcal I;W^{1,p}({\Omega}))\cap W^{1,r}(\mathcal I;W^{-1,p}(\mathcal O))$. In this case the additional terms
$$\|h\|_{L^r(\mathcal I;W^{1,p}(\mathcal O))},\quad \|h\|_{W^{1,r}(\mathcal I;W^{-1,p}(\mathcal O))},$$
appear on the right-hand side of \eqref{eq:mainpara}.
\end{remark}
\begin{proof}
By use of a standard extension operator we can assume that $\bfu_\partial=0$. Otherwise, we can solve the homogeneous problem with solution $\tilde{\bfu}$ and set $$\bfu:=\tilde\bfu+\mathcal E_{{\Omega}}\bfu_\partial-\Bog_{\Omega}(\Div \mathcal E_{{\Omega}}\bfu_\partial)$$ where $$\mathcal E_{{\Omega}}:W^{2-1/p,p}(\partial{\Omega})\rightarrow W^{2,p}({\Omega})$$
is a continuous linear extension operator and $\Bog_{\Omega}$ the Bogovskii-operator. The latter solves the divergence equation (with respect to homogeneous boundary conditions on $\partial{\Omega}$) and satisfies
\begin{align}\label{eq:bog}
\Bog_{\Omega}\Div :W^{2,p}\cap \bigg\{\bfw:\,\int_{\partial{\Omega}}\bfw\cdot\bfn\,\mathrm d\mathcal H^{2}=0\bigg\}\rightarrow W^{2,p}_0({\Omega})
\end{align} for all $p\in (1,\infty)$, see \cite{Ga}[Section III.3].
We want to invert the operator
\begin{align*}
\mathscr L&:\mathscr Y_{r,p}\rightarrow L^r(\mathcal I; L^p_{\Div}(\mathcal O)),\quad
\bfv\mapsto\mathcal P_p\big(\partial_t\bfv-\Delta\bfv\big),
\end{align*}
where the space $\mathscr Y_{r,p}$ is given by
\begin{align*}
\mathscr Y_{r,p}:= L^r(\mathcal I;W^{1,p}_{0,\Div}\cap W^{2,p}({\Omega}))\cap W^{1,r}(\mathcal I;L^{p}({\Omega}))\cap\set{\bfv(0,\cdot)=0}
\end{align*}
and $\mathcal P_p$ is the Helmholtz projection from $L^p({\Omega})$ onto $L^p_{\Div}({\Omega})$.
The Helmholtz-projection $\mathcal P_p \bfu$ of a function $\bfu\in L^p({\Omega})$ is defined as $\mathcal P_p \bfu:=\bfu-\nabla h$, where $h$ is the solution to the Neumann-problem
\begin{align*}
\begin{cases}\Delta h=\Div \bfu\quad\text{in}\quad {\Omega},\\
\bfn\cdot(\nabla h-\bfu)=0\quad\text{on}\quad\partial {\Omega}.
\end{cases}
\end{align*}
We will try to find an operator $\mathscr R:L^r(\mathcal I; L^p_{\Div}(\Omega))\rightarrow\mathscr Y_{r,p}$ such that
\begin{align}\label{eq:IS}
\mathscr L\circ\mathscr R=\mathrm{id}+\mathscr T,
\end{align}
where the operator-norm of $\mathscr T$ is strictly smaller than 1. This implies that the range of $\mathscr L\circ\mathscr R$ (which then equals to $L^r(\mathcal I;L^p_{\Div}(\Omega))$) is contained in the range of $\mathscr L$. Hence $\mathscr L$ is onto.
By assumption there is $\ell\in\mathbb N$ and functions $\varphi_1,\dots,\varphi_\ell\in\mathcal M^{2-1/p,p}(\delta)(\mathbb R^{2})$ satisfying \ref{A1}--\ref{A3}.
We clearly find an open set $\mathcal U^0\Subset{\Omega}$ such that ${\Omega}\subset \cup_{j=0}^\ell \mathcal U^j$. Finally, we consider a decomposition of unity $(\xi_j)_{j=0}^\ell$ with respect to the covering
$\mathcal U^0,\dots,\mathcal U^\ell$ of ${\Omega}$.
For $j\in\{1,\dots,\ell\}$ we consider the extension $\bfPhi_j$ of $\varphi_j$ given by \eqref{est:ext} with inverse $\bfPsi_j$.
Denoting by $\mathscr V_jx=\mathcal Q_j^\top(x-y_j)$ (with the translation $y_j$ and the rotation $\mathcal Q_j$ used in \ref{A1}--\ref{A3}, cf. Section \ref{sec:para})
we define the operators\footnote{Note that by means of a standard extension operator we extend functions in \eqref{eq:operators}--\eqref{eq:stokeshalf} to the whole space or half space when necessary.}
\begin{align}\label{eq:operators}
\mathscr R_0\bff&:=\xi_0 \bfU_0+\sum_{j=1}^\ell\xi_j \bfU_j \circ\bfPsi_j\circ\mathscr V_j ,\quad
\mathscr P\bff:=\sum_{j=1}^\ell\xi_j\mathfrak q_j \circ\bfPsi_j\circ\mathscr V_j.
\end{align}
Here the functions $(\bfU_0,\mathfrak q_0)$ and $(\bfU_j,\mathfrak q_j)$ for $j\in\{1,\dots,\ell\}$ are the solutions to the Stokes problem on the whole space and the half space with data $\bff$ respectively (transformed if necessary), that is, we have
\begin{align}\label{eq:stokeswhole}
\partial_t\bfU_0=\Delta \bfU_0-\nabla\mathfrak q_0+\bff,\quad\Div\bfU_0=0,\quad\bfU_0|_{I\times\partial\mathbb H}=0,\quad \bfU_0(0,\cdot)=0,
\end{align}
and
\begin{align}\label{eq:stokeshalf}
\partial_t\bfU_j=\Delta \bfU_j-\nabla\mathfrak q_j+\bff\circ\mathscr V_j^{-1}\circ \bfPhi_j,\quad\Div\bfU_j=0,\quad\bfU_j|_{I\times\partial\mathbb H}=0,\quad \bfU_j(0,\cdot)=0.
\end{align}
We have
\begin{align}\label{est:stokeswhole}
\begin{aligned}
\int_{\mathcal I}\Big(\|\partial_t\bfU_0\|_{L^{p}_x}^r+\|\nabla^2\bfU_0\|^r_{L^{p}_x}+\|\nabla\mathfrak q_0\|_{L^{p}_x}^r\Big)\,\mathrm{d} t&\lesssim \int_{\mathcal I}\|\bff\|_{L^{p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t,\\
\int_{\mathcal I}\Big(\|\partial_t\bfU_0\|_{W^{-1,p}_x}^r+\|\bfU_0\|_{W^{1,p}_x}^r+\|\mathfrak q_0\|_{L^{p}_x}^r\Big)\,\mathrm{d} t&\lesssim T^{r/2}\int_{\mathcal I}\|\bff\|_{L^{p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t,
\end{aligned}
\end{align}
and for $j=1,\dots,\ell
\begin{align}\label{est:stokeshalf}
\begin{aligned}
\int_{\mathcal I}\Big(\|\partial_t\bfU_j\|_{L^{p}_x}^r+\|\nabla^2\bfU_j\|_{L^{p}_x}^r+\|\nabla\mathfrak q_j\|_{L^{r}_x}^r\Big)\,\mathrm{d} t&\lesssim\int_{\mathcal I}\|\bff\circ\mathscr V_j\circ \bfPhi_j\|_{L^{p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t,\\
\int_{\mathcal I}\Big(\|\partial_t\bfU_j\|_{W^{-1,p}_x}^r+\|\bfU_j\|_{W^{1,p}_x}^r+\|\mathfrak q_j\|_{L^{p}_x}^r\Big)\,\mathrm{d} t&\lesssim T^{r/2}\int_{\mathcal I}\|\bff\circ\mathscr V_j\circ \bfPhi_j\|_{L^{p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t,
\end{aligned}
\end{align}
uniformly in $T$. Note that estimates \eqref{est:stokeswhole}$_2$ and \eqref{est:stokeshalf}$_2$ only hold locally in space (that is, in balls $B\subset\mathbb R^n$ with a constant depending on the radius). This does not cause any problems due to the localisation functions appearing in \eqref{eq:operators}.
Since Lipschitz continuity of $\varphi_j$ implies that of $\bfPhi_j$, cf. \eqref{J},
we can control the right-hand sides in \eqref{est:stokeshalf} by $\|\bff\|_{L^r_tL^{p}_x}^r$.
Estimates \eqref{est:stokeswhole} and \eqref{est:stokeshalf} are classical in the case $r=p$, see \cite[Theorems 3.1 \& 3.2]{So}.
For the case of arbitrary exponents $p$ and $r$ we refer to \cite{HS} and the references therein.
Note that the $T$-dependence in \eqref{est:stokeswhole}$_2$ and \eqref{est:stokeshalf}$_2$ follows by simple scaling argument.
The divergence of $\mathscr R_0\bff$ as defined in \eqref{eq:operators} is in general not zero.
This will be corrected by setting
\begin{align*}
\mathscr R\bff=\mathscr R_0\bff+\mathscr R_1\bff,\quad \mathscr R_1\bff=-\Bog_{{\Omega}}\Div\mathscr R_0\bff
\end{align*}
with the Bogovskii-operator $\Bog_{\Omega}$, cf. \eqref{eq:bog}.
Now we clearly have $\mathscr R\bff\in \mathscr Y_{r,p}$ and the aim is to establish (\ref{eq:IS}). Transforming $\bfU_j$ and $\mathfrak q_j$ back to ${\Omega}$, that is, setting $\bfV_j=\bfU_j\circ\bfPsi_j\circ\mathscr V_j$ and $\mathfrak Q_j=\mathfrak q_j\circ\bfPsi_j\circ\mathscr V_j $, we obtain
\begin{align}\label{eq:Stokesback}
\begin{aligned}
\partial_t\bfV_j=&\Delta\bfV_j-\nabla\mathfrak Q_j+(1-\mathrm{det}(\nabla\bfPsi_j))\partial_t\bfV_j-\Div\big((\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\bfA_j)\nabla\bfV_j)-\Div((\mathbf{B}_j-\mathbb I_{3\times 3})\mathfrak Q_j)+\bff,\\
&\Div\bfV_j=(\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\mathbf{B}_j)^\top:\nabla\bfV_j,\quad\bfV_j|_{\partial{\Omega}\cap \mathcal U^j}=0,\quad \bfV_j(0,\cdot)=0,
\end{aligned}
\end{align}
where $\bfA_j:=\mathrm{det}(\nabla\bfPsi_j)\nabla\bfPhi_j^\top\circ\bfPsi_j\nabla\bfPhi_j\circ\bfPsi_j$ and $\mathbf{B}_j:=\mathrm{det}(\nabla\bfPsi_j)\nabla\bfPhi_j\circ\bfPsi_j$.
There holds
\begin{align}
\partial_t\mathscr R\bff&-\Delta\mathscr R\bff+\nabla \mathscr P\bff=\bff+\mathscr S\bff+(\partial_t-\Delta)\mathscr R_1\bff,\label{eq:4.10}\\
\mathscr S\bff&=-\nabla\bfV_0\nabla\xi_0-\Div\big(\nabla\xi_0\otimes\bfV_0\big)
-\sum_{j=1}^\ell\nabla\bfV_j \nabla\xi_j\nonumber\\&-\sum_{j=1}^\ell\Div\big(\nabla\xi_j\otimes\bfV_j\big)+\sum_{j=1}^\ell\nabla\xi_j \mathfrak Q_j
-\sum_{j=1}^\ell\xi_j\Div((\mathbf{B}_j-\mathbb I_{3\times 3})\mathfrak Q_j)\label{eq:4.11}\\
&-\sum_{j=1}^\ell\xi_j\Div\big((\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\bfA_j)\nabla\bfV_j)+\sum_{j=1}^\ell\xi_j(1-\mathrm{det}(\nabla\bfPsi_j))\partial_t\bfV_j=:\sum_{i=1}^8 \mathscr S_i\bff.\nonumber
\end{align}
From (\ref{eq:4.10}) it follows
\begin{align*}
\mathscr L\mathscr R\bff=\bff+\mathcal P_p\mathscr S\bff+\mathcal P_p(\partial_t-\Delta)\mathscr R_1\bff,
\end{align*}
i.e., (\ref{eq:IS}) with $\mathscr T=\mathcal P_p\mathscr S+\mathcal P_p(\partial_t-\Delta)\mathscr R_1$.
We claim that
\begin{align}\label{eq:0401}
\sum_{i=1}^5\int_{\mathcal I}\|\mathscr S_i\bff\|^r_{L^{p}_x}\,\mathrm{d} t\leq\,\delta(T)\int_{\mathcal I}\|\bff\|_{L^{p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t
\end{align}
with $\delta(T)\rightarrow0$ for $T\rightarrow0$.\footnote{Note that this will also depend on $\ell$ which we have to choose sufficiently large to obtain $\max_j\|\varphi_j\|_{W^{1,\infty}_y}\approx \mathrm{Lip}(\partial{\Omega})$.} Estimate
\eqref{eq:0401} follows from estimates
\eqref{est:stokeswhole} and \eqref{est:stokeshalf}.
We can translate \eqref{est:stokeshalf} into an estimate
for $\bfV_j$ and $\mathfrak Q_j$
via
\begin{align}\label{eq:2901}
\begin{aligned}
\|\bfV_j\|_{W^{\sigma,p}_x}
\lesssim \|\bfU_j\|_{W^{\sigma,p}_x}
\end{aligned}
\end{align}
for $\sigma\in\{1,2\}$ and similarly
\begin{align}\label{eq:2901'}
\begin{aligned}
\|\mathfrak Q_j\|_{W^{\sigma-1,p}_x}
\lesssim \|\mathfrak q_j\|_{W^{\sigma-1,p}_x}
\end{aligned}
\end{align}
recalling estimates \eqref{eq:detJ} and \eqref{lem:9.4.1}. Note that by our assumptions on $\varphi_j$ and \eqref{eq:Phi} we have
$\bfPhi_j\in \mathcal M^{2,p}(\mathbb H)$ and thus $\bfPsi_j\in \mathcal M^{2,p}(\mathbb H)$ by \eqref{eq:SMPhiPsi}. Combining the previous arguments proves \eqref{eq:0401}.
Now we are concerned with $\mathscr S_6$ and $\mathscr S_7$
obtaining
by \eqref{J}, \eqref{lem:9.4.1} and the definitions of $\bfA_j$ and $\bfPhi_j$
\begin{align*}
\|\xi_j\Div&\big((\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\bfA_j)\nabla\bfV_j)\|_{L^{p}(\mathbb H)}\\&\lesssim \sup_{\|\bfw\|_{W^{1,p}_x}\leq 1}\|(\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\bfA_j)\bfw\|_{W^{1,p}(\mathbb H)}\|\nabla\bfV_j\|_{W^{1,p}_x}\\
&\lesssim \sup_{\|\bfw\|_{W^{1,p}(\mathbb H)}\leq 1}\|(1-\mathrm{det}(\nabla\bfPsi_j))\bfw\|_{W^{1,p}(\mathbb H)}\|\bfV_j\|_{W^{2,p}_x}\\
&+ \sup_{\|\bfw\|_{W^{1,p}_x}\leq 1}\|\mathrm{det}(\nabla\bfPsi_j)(\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\nabla\bfPhi_j^\top\circ\bfPsi_j)\bfw\|_{W^{1,p}(\mathbb H)}\|\bfV_j\|_{W^{2,p}_x}\\
&+ \sup_{\|\bfw\|_{W^{1,p}_x}\leq 1}\|\mathrm{det}(\nabla\bfPsi_j)\nabla\bfPhi_j^\top\circ\bfPsi_j(\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\nabla\bfPhi_j\circ\bfPsi_j)\bfw\|_{W^{1,p}(\mathbb H)}\|\bfV_j\|_{W^{2,p}_x}\\
&\lesssim \|\mathcal T\phi_j\|_{\mathcal M^{2,p}(\mathbb H)}\|\bfv\|_{W^{2,p}_x}\\&+ \|\bfPsi_j\|_{\mathcal M^{2,p}(\mathbb H)}^3\sup_{\|\bfw\|_{W^{1,p}_x}\leq 1}\|(\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\nabla\bfPhi_j\circ\bfPsi_j)\bfw\|_{W^{1,p}(\mathbb H)}\|\bfV_j\|_{W^{2,p}_x}\\
&+ \|\bfPsi_j\|_{\mathcal M^{2,p}(\mathbb H)}^3\|\bfPhi_j\|_{\mathcal M^{2,p}(\mathbb H)}\sup_{\|\bfw\|_{W^{1,p}_x}\leq 1}\|(\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\nabla\bfPhi_j\circ\bfPsi_j)\bfw\|_{W^{1,p}(\mathbb H)}\|\bfV_j\|_{W^{2,p}_x}\\
&\lesssim \Big(\|\mathcal T\phi_j\|_{\mathcal M^{2,p}(\mathbb H)}+ \sup_{\|\bfw\|_{W^{1,p}_x}\leq 1}\|(\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\nabla\bfPhi_j\circ\bfPsi_j)\bfw\|_{W^{1,p}(\mathbb H)}\Big)\|\bfV_j\|_{W^{2,p}_x},
\end{align*}
where
\begin{align*}
\sup_{\|\bfw\|_{W^{1,p}_x}\leq 1}&\|(\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\nabla\bfPhi_j\circ\bfPsi_j)\bfw\|_{W^{1,p}(\mathbb H)}\\
&\lesssim \|\mathcal T\phi_j\circ\bfPsi_j\|_{\mathcal M^{2,p}(\mathbb H)}\lesssim \|\mathcal T\phi_j\|_{\mathcal M^{2,p}(\mathbb H)}.
\end{align*}
So we finally have
\begin{align*}
\|\xi_j\Div\big((\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\bfA_j)\nabla\bfV_j)\|_{L^{p}(\mathbb H)}&\lesssim \|\mathcal T\phi_j\|_{\mathcal M^{2,p}(\mathbb H)}\|\bfV_j\|_{W^{2,p}(\mathbb H)}
\end{align*}
and, similarly,
\begin{align*}
\|\xi_j\Div((\mathbf{B}_j-\mathbb I_{3\times 3})\mathfrak Q_j)\|_{L^{p}(\mathbb H)}&\lesssim \sup_{\|\bfw\|_{W^{1,p}(\mathbb H)}\leq 1} \|(\mathbf{B}_j-\mathbb I_{3\times 3})\bfw\|_{W^{1,p}(\mathbb H)}\|\mathfrak Q_j\|_{W^{1,p}(\mathbb H)}\\
&\lesssim \|\mathcal T\phi_j\|_{\mathcal M(W^{2,p}(\mathbb H))}\|\mathfrak Q_j\|_{W^{1,p}(\mathbb H)}.
\end{align*}
By \eqref{eq:MS} we have
\begin{align}\label{eq:MS'}
\|\mathcal T\phi_j\|_{\mathcal M^{2,p}(\mathbb H)}\lesssim \|\varphi_j\|_{\mathcal M^{2-1/p,p}(\mathbb H)},
\end{align}
where the right-hand side is conveniently by assumption.
Hence we have
\begin{align*}
\int_{\mathcal I}\Big(\|\mathscr S_6\bff\|^r_{L^{p}_x}+\|\mathscr S_7\bff\|_{L^{p}_x}^r\Big)\,\mathrm{d} t\leq\,\delta(\mathrm{Lip}({\Omega}))\sum_{j=1}^\ell\int_{\mathcal I}\big(\|\bfV_j\|_{W^{2,p}_x}^r+\|\mathfrak Q_j\|_{W^{1,p}_x}^r\big)\,\mathrm{d} t.
\end{align*}
Using again the estimates for the problem on the half space from \eqref{est:stokeshalf} as well as \eqref{eq:2901} and \eqref{eq:2901'} we conclude
\begin{align*}
\int_{\mathcal I}\Big(\|\mathscr S_6\bff\|^r_{L^{p}_x}+\|\mathscr S_7\bff\|^r_{L^{p}_x}\Big)\,\mathrm{d} t\leq\,\delta'(\mathrm{Lip}({\Omega}))\int_{\mathcal I}\|\bff\|^r_{L^{p}_x}\,\mathrm{d} t.
\end{align*}
Both $\delta(\mathrm{Lip}({\Omega}))$ and $\delta'(\mathrm{Lip}({\Omega}))$ can be chosen conveniently small in dependence on $\mathrm{Lip}({\Omega})$.
Similarly, we have
\begin{align*}
\int_{\mathcal I}\|\mathscr S_8\bff\|_{L^{p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t\leq\,\delta(\mathrm{Lip}({\Omega}))\sum_{j=1}^\ell\int_{\mathcal I}\|\partial_t\bfV_j\|_{L^{p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t\leq \delta'(\mathrm{Lip}({\Omega}))\int_{\mathcal I}\|\bff\|^r_{L^{p}_x}\,\mathrm{d} t
\end{align*}
using once more \eqref{est:stokeshalf} in the last step.
In conclusion, choosing first $\ell$ large enough and
then $T$ small enough we can infer that
\begin{align}\label{eq:july24}
\int_{\mathcal I}\|\mathscr S\bff\|^r_{L^{p}_x}\,\mathrm{d} t\leq\,\tfrac{1}{4}\int_{\mathcal I}\|\bff\|_{L^{p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t.
\end{align}
Now we are going to show the same for $(\partial_t-\Delta)\mathscr R_1$. We have
\begin{align*}
\Div\mathscr R_0\bff=\nabla\xi_0\cdot\bfU_0+\sum_{j=1}^\ell\nabla\xi_j\cdot\bfV_j+\sum_{j=1}^\ell\xi_j(\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\bfB_j)^\top:\nabla\bfV_j
\end{align*}
such that
\begin{align*}
\|\partial_t\mathscr R_1\bff\|_{L^{p}_x}&\lesssim \|\Bog_{{\Omega}}(\nabla\xi_0\cdot\partial_t\bfU_0)\|_{L^{p}_x}+\sum_{j=1}^\ell\|\Bog_{{\Omega}}(\nabla\xi_j\cdot\partial_t\bfV_j)\|_{L^{p}_x}\\
&+ \sum_{j=1}^\ell\|\Bog_{\Omega}\big(\xi_j(\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\mathbf{B}_j)^\top:\nabla\partial_t\bfV_j\big)\|_{L^{p}_x}\\
&\lesssim \|\nabla\xi_0\cdot\partial_t\bfU_0\|_{W^{-1,p}_x}+\sum_{j=1}^\ell\|\nabla\xi_j\cdot\partial_t\bfV_j\|_{W^{-1,p}_x}\\
&+ \sum_{j=1}^\ell\|\xi_j(\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\bfB_j)^\top:\nabla\partial_t\bfV_j\|_{W^{-1,p}_x}\\
&=: (R)_1+(R)_2+(R)_3
\end{align*}
using continuity of the Bogovskii-operator, cf. \eqref{eq:bog}.
Since $\bfU_0$ solves \eqref{eq:stokeswhole} we infer from \eqref{est:stokeswhole} that
\begin{align*}
\int_{\mathcal I}(R)_1^r\,\mathrm{d} t\lesssim \int_{\mathcal I}\|\partial_t\bfU_0\|_{W^{-1,p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t\lesssim T^{r/2}\int_{\mathcal I}\|\bff\|_{L^{p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t.
\end{align*}
Similarly, we obtain from \eqref{est:stokeshalf}
\begin{align*}
\int_{\mathcal I}(R)_2^r\,\mathrm{d} t\lesssim \sum_{j=1}^\ell\int_{\mathcal I}\|\partial_t\bfV_j\|_{W^{-1,p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t\lesssim\sum_{j=1}^\ell\int_{\mathcal I}\|\partial_t\bfU_j\|_{W^{-1,p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t\lesssim T^{r/2}\int_{\mathcal I}\|\bff\|_{L^{p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t
\end{align*}
using also $\bfV_j=\bfU_j\circ\bfPhi_j\circ \mathscr V_j$ and \eqref{J} as well as \eqref{eq:MSa}--\eqref{lem:9.4.1}. Finally, arguing again as in the estimates for $\mathscr S_7$ above, and using $\Div\mathbf B_j=0$ (which holds as a consequence of the Piola-identity)
\begin{align*}
\int_{\mathcal I}(R)_3^r\,\mathrm{d} t&\lesssim \sum_{j=1}^\ell\int_{\mathcal I}\|\xi_j(\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\mathbf B_j)^\top:\nabla\partial_t\bfV_j\|_{W^{-1,p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t\\&\lesssim \sum_{j=1}^\ell\int_{\mathcal I}\|\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\mathbf{B}_j\|_{\mathcal M^{1,p}({\Omega})}^r\|\partial_t\bfV_j\|_{L^{p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t\\
&\lesssim \delta(\mathrm{Lip}(\partial{\Omega}))\int_{\mathcal I}\|\bff\|_{L^{p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t.
\end{align*}
In conclusion, we have shown
\begin{align}\label{eq:july28}
\int_{\mathcal I}\|\partial_t\mathscr R_1\bff\|_{L^{p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t&\leq\,\tfrac{1}{4}\int_{\mathcal I}\|\bff\|_{L^{p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t,
\end{align}
for $T$ and $\mathrm{Lip}(\partial\Omega)$ sufficiently small. As far
as $\Delta\mathscr R_1\bff$ is concerned, we have analogously
\begin{align*}
\int_{\mathcal I}\|\Delta\mathscr R_1\bff\|_{L^{p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t&\lesssim \int_{\mathcal I}\|\Bog_{{\Omega}}(\nabla\xi_0\cdot\bfU_0)\|_{W^{2,p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t+\sum_{j=1}^\ell\int_{\mathcal I}\|\Bog_{{\Omega}}(\nabla\xi_j\cdot\bfV_j)\|_{W^{2,p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t\\
&+ \sum_{j=1}^\ell\int_{\mathcal I}\|\Bog_{\Omega}\big(\xi_j(\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\mathbf{B}_j)^\top:\nabla\bfV_j\big)\|_{W^{2,p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t\\
&\lesssim \int_{\mathcal I}\|\nabla\xi_0\cdot\bfU_0\|_{W^{1,p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t+\sum_{j=1}^\ell\int_{\mathcal I}\|\nabla\eta_j\cdot\bfV_j\|_{W^{1,p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t\\
&+ \sum_{j=1}^\ell\int_{\mathcal I}\|\xi_j(\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\mathbf{B}_j)^\top:\nabla\bfV_j\|_{W^{1,p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t\\
&\lesssim \int_{\mathcal I}\|\bfU_0\|_{W^{1,p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t+\sum_{j=1}^\ell\int_{\mathcal I}\|\bfU_j\|_{W^{1,p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t\\
&+ \sum_{j=1}^\ell\int_{\mathcal I}\|\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\mathbf{B}_j\|^r_{\mathcal M^{1,p}({\Omega})}\|\bfU_j\|_{W^{2,p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t\\
&\lesssim T^{r/2}\int_{\mathcal I}\|\bff\|_{L^{p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t+ \delta(\mathrm{Lip}(\partial{\Omega}))\int_{\mathcal I}\|\bff\|_{L^{p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t.
\end{align*}
Note that we also made use of \eqref{eq:2901}.
This implies
\begin{align}\label{eq:july28B}
\int_{\mathcal I}\|\Delta\mathscr R_1\bff\|_{L^{p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t&\leq\,\tfrac{1}{4}\int_{\mathcal I}\|\bff\|_{L^{p}_x}^r\,\mathrm{d} t
\end{align}
choosing $T$ and $\mathrm{Lip}(\partial\Omega)$ small enough.
Combining \eqref{eq:july24}, \eqref{eq:july28} and \eqref{eq:july28B} implies $\|\mathscr T\|\leq\tfrac{3}{4}$. Hence $\mathscr L$ is onto recalling \eqref{eq:IS}. This means we have shown the claim for $T$ sufficiently small, say $T=T_0\ll1$. It is easy to extend it to the whole interval.
Let $(\bfu,\pi)$ be the solution in $[0,T]$. In order to obtain a solution on the whole interval we consider a partition of unity
$(\psi_k)_{k=1}^K$ on $[0,T]$ such that $\mathrm{spt}(\psi_k)\subset(\alpha_k,\alpha_k+T_0]$ for some $(\alpha_k)_{k=2}^K\subset[0,T]$ and $\alpha_1=0$. The functions $(\bfu_k,\pi_k)=(\psi_k\bfu,\psi_k\pi)$ are the unique solutions to
\begin{align*}
\partial_t\bfu_k=\Delta \bfu_k-\nabla\pi_k+\bff+\psi_k'\bfu,\quad\Div\bfu_k=0,\quad\bfu_k|_{(\alpha_k,\alpha_k+T_0)\times\partial{\Omega}}=0,\quad \bfu_k(\alpha_k,\cdot)=0.
\end{align*}
Applying the result proved for the interval $[0,T_0]$ and noticing that $\bfu=\sum_{k=1}^K\bfu_k$ and $\pi=\sum_{k=1}^K\pi_k$ proves the claim in the general case.
\end{proof}
\section{The perturbed system}\label{sec:pert}
In this section we develop a theory for some perturbed Stokes and Navier--Stokes systems which arise from the original one by flattening the boundary (introducing local coordinates as in Section \ref{sec:para}).
The perturbed Navier--Stokes system will be the basis for the partial regularity proof in Section \ref{sec:blowup} in which we compare its solution locally to a solution to the perturbed Stokes system.
By means of Sobolev multipliers we now derive optimal assumptions concerning the coefficients in the latter allowing for a maximal regularity theory.
\subsection{Perturbed Navier--Stokes equations}
For a boundary suitable weak solution $(\bfu,\pi,\varphi)$ to \eqref{1} we define $\overline \pi=\pi\circ\bfPhi$, $\overline{\bfu}=\bfu\circ\bfPhi$ and $\overline{\bff}=\bff\circ\bfPhi$, where $\bfPhi$ is the extension of $\varphi$ given in \eqref{eq:Phi}. We also introduce
\begin{align}\label{eq:AB}
\bfA_\varphi&=J_\varphi\big(\nabla \bfPsi\circ\bfPhi\big)^{\top}\nabla \bfPsi\circ\bfPhi,\quad\bfB_\varphi=J_\varphi\nabla \bfPsi\circ\bfPhi,
\end{align}
where $J_\varphi=\mathrm{det}(\nabla\bfPhi)$.
We see that $(\overline\bfu,\overline\pi,\varphi)$ is a solution to the system
\begin{align}\label{momref}
J_{\varphi}\partial_t\overline\bfu+(\bfB_\varphi\nabla\overline\bfu)\overline\bfu+\Div\big(\bfB_{\varphi}\overline\pi\big)-\Div\big(\bfA_{\varphi}\nabla\overline\bfu\big)&=J_\varphi\overline\bff,\\
\label{divref}\bfB_{\varphi}^\top:\nabla\overline\bfu=0,\quad\overline\bfu|_{\partial \mathcal B_1^+\cap\partial\mathbb H}&=0,
\end{align}
a.a. in $\mathcal Q_1^+$.
Note that it may be necessary to translate and scale the coordinates in space-time to arrive at a system posed in $\mathcal Q_1^+:=\mathcal Q_1(0,0)$ (rather than in $\mathcal Q_r(t_0,x_0)$ for some $r>0$, $t_0\in \mathcal I$ and $x_0\in\partial\mathbb H$).
Similarly, we can transform the local energy inequality leading to
\begin{equation}\label{energylocal}
\begin{split}
\int_ {\Omega}\frac{1}{2}J_\varphi\zeta\big| \overline\bfu(t)\big|^2\,\mathrm{d}x&+\int_0^t\int_ {\Omega}\zeta\bfA_\varphi\nabla \overline\bfu:\nabla \overline\bfu\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\\& \leq\int_0^t\int_{\Omega}\frac{1}{2}J_\varphi |\overline\bfu|^2\partial_t\zeta\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma+\int_0^t\int_{\Omega}\frac{1}{2}J_\varphi| \overline\bfu|^2\Delta\bfPsi\circ\bfPhi\cdot\nabla\zeta\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\\&+\int_0^t\int_{\Omega}\frac{1}{2}| \overline\bfu|^2\bfA_\varphi:\nabla^2\zeta\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma+\int_0^t\int_{\Omega}\frac{1}{2}\big(|\overline\bfu|^2+2\overline\pi\big)\overline\bfu\cdot\bfB_\varphi\nabla\zeta\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\\
&+\int_0^t\int_{\Omega}J_\varphi\zeta\overline\bff\cdot\overline\bfu\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma
\end{split}
\end{equation}
for any $\zeta\in C^\infty_c(\mathcal Q_1)$ with $\zeta\geq0$.
\begin{definition}[Boundary suitable weak solution perturbed system] \label{def:weakSolutionflat}
Let $(\overline\bff, \overline\bfu_0)$ be a dataset such that
\begin{equation}
\begin{aligned}
\label{dataset}
&\overline\bff \in L^{r_\ast}\big(\mathcal I_1; L^{s_\ast}(\mathcal B_1^+))\big),\quad
\overline\bfu_0\in W^{2,s_\ast}\cap W^{1,2}_{0,\mathrm{\Div}}(\mathcal B_1^+).
\end{aligned}
\end{equation}
We call the triple
$(\overline\bfu,\overline\pi,\varphi)$
a boundary suitable weak solution to the perturbed Navier--Stokes system \eqref{momref} with data $(\overline\bff, \overline\bfu_0)$ provided that the following holds:
\begin{itemize}
\item[(a)] The velocity field $\overline\bfu$ satisfies
\begin{align*}
\overline\bfu \in L^\infty \big(\mathcal I_1; L^2(\mathcal B_1^+) \big)\cap L^2 \big(\mathcal I_1; W^{1,2}_{\Div}(\mathcal B_1^+) \big) \cap L^{r_\ast}(\mathcal I_1;W^{2,s_\ast}(\mathcal B_1^+))\cap W^{1,r_\ast}(\mathcal I_1;L^{s_\ast}(\mathcal B_1^+)).
\end{align*}
\item[(b)] The pressure $\overline\pi$ satisfies
$$\overline\pi\in L^{r_\ast}(\mathcal I_1;W^{1,s_\ast}_\perp(\mathcal B_1^+)).$$
\item[c)] The boundary coordinates satisfy
\eqref{eq:varphi}.
\item[(d)] The system \eqref{momref}--\eqref{divref}
holds a.a. in $\mathcal Q^+_1$.
\item[(e)] The local energy inequality \eqref{energylocal} holds for any $\zeta\in C_c^\infty(\mathcal Q_1)$ with $\zeta\geq0$.
\end{itemize}
\end{definition}
A crucial part of the partial regularity proof in Section \ref{sec:blowup} will be the comparison of a boundary suitable weak solution of the perturbed Navier--Stokes system with a solution of the perturbed Stokes system. The analysis of the latter is the content of the following subsection.
\subsection{Perturbed Stokes equations}
In this section we consider, in analogy to \eqref{momref}--\eqref{divref}, a perturbed Stokes system in $\mathcal Q_1^+$ of the form
\begin{align}\label{eq:pertstokes}
\begin{aligned}
J_{\varphi}\partial_t\overline\bfu+\Div\big(\bfB_{\varphi}\overline{\pi}\big)-\Div\big(\bfA_{\varphi}\nabla\overline\bfu\big)&=\overline \bfg,\\
\bfB_{\varphi}^\top:\nabla\overline{\bfu}=\overline h,\quad\overline\bfu|_{\mathcal B^+_{1}\cap\partial\mathbb H}&=0,\quad\overline{\bfu}(-1,\cdot)=0,
\end{aligned}
\end{align}
where $\bfA_\varphi$ and $\bfB_\varphi$ are given in accordance with \eqref{eq:AB} for a given function $\varphi:\mathbb R^{2}\rightarrow\mathbb R$ and $\overline \bfg$ and $\overline h$ are given data.
We obtain the following maximal regularity result.
\begin{lemma}\label{lem:31}
Let $p,r\in(1,\infty)$.
Suppose that $\varphi\in \mathcal M^{2-1/p,p}(\mathbb R^{2})(\delta)$ and that $\|\varphi\|_{W^{1,\infty}_y}\leq \delta$
for some sufficiently small $\delta$. Assume further that $\overline \bfg\in L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B_1^+))$ and $\overline h\in L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{1,p}\cap L^p_\perp(\mathcal B_1^+))$ with $\partial_t \overline h\in L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{-1,p}(\mathcal B_1^+))$ and $\overline h(0,\cdot)=0$. Then there is a unique solution $(\overline\bfu,\overline\pi)$ to \eqref{eq:pertstokes} which satisfies
\begin{align}\label{eq:mainpara}
\begin{aligned}
\|\partial_t\overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^p(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}&+\|\overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{2,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))
+\|\overline\pi\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{1,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}\\&\lesssim \|\overline \bfg\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^p(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}+\|\nabla \overline h\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}+\|\partial_t \overline h\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{-1,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))},
\end{aligned}
\end{align}
where the hidden constant only depends on $p,r$ and $\delta$.
\end{lemma}
\begin{proof}
Let us initially assume that $\overline\bfu$ and $\overline\pi$ are sufficiently smooth. We rewrite \eqref{eq:pertstokes} as
\begin{align}\label{eq:pertstokes'}
\begin{aligned}
\partial_t\overline\bfu+\nabla\overline{\pi}-\Delta\overline\bfu&=\overline \bfg+(1-J_\varphi)\partial_t\overline\bfu\\&+\Div\big((\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\bfB_{\varphi})\overline{\pi}\big)+\Div\big((\bfA_{\varphi}-\mathbb I_{3\times 3})\nabla\overline\bfu\big),\\
\Div\overline{\bfu}=\big(\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\bfB_{\varphi}\big)^\top&:\nabla\overline{\bfu}+\overline h,\quad\overline\bfu|_{\mathcal B^+_{1}\cap\partial\mathbb H}=0,\quad\overline{\bfu}(-1,\cdot)=0.
\end{aligned}
\end{align}
This is a classical Stokes system in $\mathcal Q_1^+$ with right-hand side
\begin{align*}
\overline \bfG:=\overline \bfg+(1-J_\varphi)\partial_t\overline\bfu+\Div\big((\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\bfB_{\varphi})\overline{\pi}\big)+\Div\big((\bfA_{\varphi}-\mathbb I_{3\times 3})\nabla\overline\bfu\big)
\end{align*}
and given divergence
\begin{align*}
\overline H:=\big(\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\bfB_{\varphi}\big)^\top&:\nabla\overline{\bfu}+\overline h.
\end{align*}
The known regularity theory (see \cite{FaSo} or \cite{So2}) yields
\begin{align}\label{eq:1101}\begin{aligned}
\|\partial_t\overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^p(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}&+\|\overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{2,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}
+\|\overline\pi\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{1,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}\\&\lesssim \|\overline \bfG\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^p(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}+\|\nabla \overline H\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}+\|\partial_t \overline H\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{-1,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}.
\end{aligned}
\end{align}
The goal is now to estimate the norms of $\overline \bfG$ and $\overline H$ employing the theory of Sobolev multipliers. First of all, we deduce from \eqref{est:ext} and \eqref{J} that
\begin{align*}
\|(1-J_\varphi)\partial_t\overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^p(\mathcal B^+_{1})}\lesssim \delta \|\partial_t\overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^p(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}
\end{align*}
using the assumption of a small Lipschitz constant.
Arguing similarly to the proof of Theorem \ref{thm:stokesunsteady} we have
\begin{align*}
\|\Div\big((\bfA_{\varphi}-\mathbb I_{3\times 3})\nabla\overline\bfu\big)\|_{L^p(\mathcal B_1^+)}&\lesssim \|\mathcal T\varphi\|_{\mathcal M(W^{2,p}(\mathcal B_1^+))}\|\overline{\bfu}\|_{W^{2,p}(\mathcal B_1^+)}
\end{align*}
as well as
\begin{align*}
\|\Div\big((\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\bfB_{\varphi})\overline{\pi}\big)\|_{L^{p}(\mathcal B_1^+)}&\lesssim \|\bfB_\varphi-\mathbb I_{3\times 3}\|_{\mathcal M^{1,p}(\mathcal B_1^+)}\|\overline\pi\|_{W^{1,p}(\mathcal B_1^+)}\\
&\lesssim \|\mathcal T\varphi\|_{\mathcal M^{2,p}(\mathbb H)}\|\overline\pi\|_{W^{1,p}(\mathcal B_1^+)}.
\end{align*}
By \eqref{eq:MS} we have
\begin{align}\label{eq:MS'}
\|\mathcal T\varphi\|_{\mathcal M^{2,p}(\mathbb H)}\lesssim \|\varphi\|_{\mathcal M^{2-1/p,p}(\mathbb R^{n-1})}\leq \delta
\end{align}
using our assumption in the last step.
We conclude that
\begin{align*}
\|\bfG\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^p(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}&\lesssim \|\overline\bfg\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^p(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}+\delta\big(\|\partial_t\overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^p(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}+\|\overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{2,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}\big)\\
&+\delta\|\overline\pi\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{1,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}.
\end{align*}
By analogous arguments we obtain
\begin{align*}
\|\nabla\big((\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\bfB_{\varphi})^\top:\nabla\overline{\bfu}\big)\|_{L^{p}(\mathcal B_1^+)}&\lesssim \|\bfB_\varphi-\mathbb I_{3\times 3}\|_{\mathcal M^{1,p}(\mathcal B_1^+)}\|\nabla\overline\bfu\|_{W^{1,p}(\mathcal B_1^+)}\\
&\lesssim \|\mathcal T\varphi\|_{\mathcal M^{2,p}(\mathbb H)}\|\overline\bfu\|_{W^{2,p}(\mathcal B_1^+)},\\
\|\partial_t\big((\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\bfB_{\varphi})^\top:\nabla\overline{\bfu}\big)\|_{W^{-1,p}(\mathcal B_1^+)}&=\|(\mathbb I_{3\times 3}-\bfB_{\varphi})^\top:\nabla\partial_t\overline{\bfu}\|_{W^{-1,p}(\mathcal B_1^+)}\\
&\leq \|\bfB_\varphi-\mathbb I_{3\times 3}\|_{\mathcal M^{1,p}(\mathcal B_1^+)}\|\partial_t\nabla\overline\bfu\|_{W^{-1,p}(\mathcal B_1^+)}\\
&\lesssim \|\mathcal T\varphi\|_{\mathcal M^{2,p}(\mathbb H)}\|\partial_t\overline\bfu\|_{L^{p}(\mathcal B_1^+)},
\end{align*}
such that
\begin{align*}
\|\nabla \overline H\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}+\|\partial_t \overline H\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{-1,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}&\lesssim \|\nabla \overline h\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}+\|\partial_t\overline h\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{-1,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}\\
&+\delta\big(\|\partial_t\overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^p(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}+\|\overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{2,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}\big).
\end{align*}
Combing the estimates for $\overline \bfG$ and $\overline H$
yields the claim for $\delta$ sufficiently small as a consequence of \eqref{eq:1101}.
Since smoothness of $(\overline\bfu,\overline\pi)$ is not a priori known one has to regularise the equations. This can be done
by mollifying the function $\varphi$ with a standard mollifier.
As shown in \cite[Lemma 4.3.3.]{MaSh} mollification does not expand the $\mathcal M^{s,p}(\mathbb R^{2})$-norm.
For the regularised problem the results from \cite[Lemma 3.1]{SeShSo} apply and we obtain a sufficiently smooth solution. The previous estimates can then be performed uniformly with respect to the mollification parameter and the claimed result follows in the limit.
\end{proof}
As in \cite[Lemma 3.2]{SeShSo} we deduce the following Cacciopoli-type inequality from Lemma \ref{lem:31}.
\begin{lemma}\label{lem:32}
Let $p,q,r\in(1,\infty)$ with $q\geq p$.
Suppose that $\varphi\in \mathcal M^{2-1/q,q}(\mathbb R^{2})(\delta)$ and that $\|\varphi\|_{W^{1,\infty}_y}\leq \delta$ for some sufficiently small $\delta$. Assume further that $\overline\bfg\in L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B_1^+))$ and that $\overline h=0$.
The solution $(\overline\bfu,\overline\pi)$ to \eqref{eq:pertstokes} satisfies
\begin{align}\label{eq:mainpara'}
\begin{aligned}
\|\partial_t\overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_{1/2};L^q(\mathcal B^+_{1/2}))}&+\|\overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_{1/2};W^{2,q}(\mathcal B^+_{1/2}))
+\|\overline\pi\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_{1/2};W^{1,q}(\mathcal B^+_{1/2}))}\\&\lesssim \|\overline\bfg\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^q(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}+\|\nabla \overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}+\|\overline\pi-(\overline\pi)_{\mathcal B_1^+}\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))},
\end{aligned}
\end{align}
where the hidden constant only depends on $p,q,r$ and $\delta$.
\end{lemma}
\begin{proof}
Let us initially suppose that $p=q$.
We consider a cut-off function $\zeta\in C^\infty_c(\mathcal Q_1)$ with $\zeta=1$ in $\mathcal Q_{3/4}$. The functions $\overline\bfv=\zeta\overline\bfu$ and $\overline{\mathfrak q}=\zeta\overline\pi$ solve the system
\begin{align}\label{eq:pertstokes'}
\begin{aligned}
J_{\varphi}\partial_t\overline\bfv+\Div\big(\bfB_{\varphi}\overline{\pi}\big)-\Div\big(\bfA_{\varphi}\nabla\overline\bfv\big)&=\overline \bfG_\zeta,\\
\bfB_{\varphi}:\nabla\overline{\bfv}=\overline h_\zeta,\quad\overline\bfv|_{\mathcal B^+_{1}\cap\partial\mathbb H}&=0,\quad\overline{\bfv}(-1,\cdot)=0,
\end{aligned}
\end{align}
where $\overline\bfG_\zeta$ and $\overline h_\zeta$ are given by
\begin{align*}
\overline\bfG_\zeta&=\zeta\overline\bfg-J_\varphi\partial_t\zeta\overline\bfu-2\bfA_\varphi\nabla\overline\bfu\nabla\zeta
+(\overline\pi-(\overline\pi)_{\mathcal B_1^+})\bfB_\varphi\nabla\zeta-\overline\bfu\Div\big(\bfA_{\varphi}\nabla\zeta),\quad
\overline h_\zeta=\overline\bfu\cdot\bfB_\varphi\nabla\zeta.
\end{align*}
We apply Lemma \ref{lem:31} to \eqref{eq:pertstokes'} and obtain
\begin{align*}
\|\partial_t\overline\bfv\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^p(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}&+\|\overline\bfv\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{2,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))
+\|\overline{\mathfrak q}\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{1,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}\\&\lesssim \|\overline\bfG_\zeta\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^p(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}+\|\nabla \overline h_\zeta\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}+\|\partial_t \overline h_\zeta\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{-1,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}.
\end{align*}
We clearly have
\begin{align*}
\|\overline\bfG_\zeta\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^p(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}&\lesssim \|\overline\bfg\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^p(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}+\|\nabla \overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}+\|\overline\pi-(\overline\pi)_{\mathcal B_1^+}\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}\\&+ \|\overline\bfu\Div\big(\bfA_{\varphi}\nabla\zeta)\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}
\end{align*}
since $\varphi$ is Lipschitz by assumption (and so are $\bfPhi$ and $\bfPsi$, cf. \eqref{est:ext} and \eqref{eq:detJ}). Note that we also used Poincar\'e's inequality recalling that $\overline\bfu|_{\mathcal B^+_{1}\cap\partial\mathbb H}=0$. For the last term in the above we have
\begin{align*}
\|\overline\bfu\Div\big(\bfA_{\varphi}\nabla\zeta)\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}&\lesssim \|\Div\big(\overline\bfu\otimes\bfA_{\varphi}\nabla\zeta)\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}+\|\nabla\overline\bfu\,\bfA_{\varphi}\nabla\zeta\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}\\
&\lesssim \|\overline\bfu\otimes\bfA_{\varphi}\nabla\zeta\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{1,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}+\|\nabla\overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}\\
&\lesssim \|\bfA_\varphi\|_{\mathcal M^{1,p}(\mathcal B^+_1)}\|\overline\bfu\otimes\nabla\zeta\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{1,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}+\|\nabla\overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}\\
&\lesssim \|\nabla\overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}.
\end{align*}
Note that we used in the last step, in addition to the Lipschitz continuity of $\bfPhi$ and $\bfPsi$, that
$\bfPhi$ and $\bfPsi$ belong to the correct mulitplier space by \eqref{eq:SoMo} and \eqref{eq:SMPhiPsi} using
the assumption $\varphi\in \mathcal M^{2-1/p,p}(\mathbb R^{2})(\delta)$. Similarly, we have
\begin{align*}
\|\overline h\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{1,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}
&\lesssim \|\overline\bfu\cdot\bfB_{\varphi}\nabla\zeta\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{1,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}\\
&\lesssim \|\bfB_\zeta\|_{\mathcal M^{1,p}(\mathcal B^+_1)}\|\overline\bfu\otimes\nabla\zeta\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{1,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}\\
&\lesssim \|\nabla\overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}.
\end{align*}
Finally,
\begin{align*}
\|\partial_t \overline h\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{-1,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}&\lesssim \|\partial_t \overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{-1,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}+\|\overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{-1,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}.
\end{align*}
Using equation \eqref{eq:pertstokes'} together with strict positivity of $J_\varphi$ and $J_\varphi\in \mathcal M^{1,p}(\mathcal B^+_1)$ we have
\begin{align*}
\|\partial_t \overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{-1,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}&\lesssim \|\overline\bfG\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{-1,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}+\|\Div\big(\bfB_{\varphi}\overline{\pi}\big)\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{-1,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}\\&+\|\Div\big(\bfA_{\varphi}\nabla\overline\bfu\big)\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{-1,p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}\\
&\lesssim \|\overline\bfG\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^p(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}+\|\nabla \overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}+\|\overline\pi-(\overline\pi)_{\mathcal B_1^+}\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B^+_{1}))}.
\end{align*}
Note that we used again boundedness of $\bfA_\varphi$ and $\bfB_\varphi$.
Combining everything, we have proved \eqref{eq:mainpara'} for the case $p=q$ (even with norms over $\mathcal Q^+_{3/4}$ on the left-hand side).
Let us now consider the case $q\in(p,\tfrac{3p}{3-p}]$ for the case $p<3$ and $q\in(p,\infty)$ arbitrary for $p\geq 3$. We make the same definitions of
$\overline\bfv$ and $\overline{\mathfrak q}$ as above but consider a cut-off function $\zeta\in C^\infty_c(\mathcal{Q}_{3/4})$ with $\zeta=1$ in $\mathcal Q_{1/2}$. By the choice of $q$ and Sobolev's embedding $W^{1,p}(\mathcal B_{3/4}^+)\hookrightarrow L^{q}(\mathcal B_{3/4}^+)$ we have
\begin{align*}
\|\overline\bfG_\zeta\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_{3/4};L^q(\mathcal B^+_{3/4}))}&\lesssim \|\overline\bfg\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_{3/4};L^q(\mathcal B^+_{3/4}))}+\|\nabla \overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_{3/4};L^{q}(\mathcal B^+_{3/4}))}\\&+\|\overline\pi-(\overline\pi)_{\mathcal B_{3/4}^+}\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_{3/4};L^{q}(\mathcal B^+_{3/4}))}\\
&\lesssim \|\overline\bfg\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_{3/4};L^q(\mathcal B^+_{3/4}))}+\|\nabla^2 \overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_{3/4};L^{p}(\mathcal B^+_{3/4}))}+\|\nabla\overline\pi\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_{3/4};L^{p}(\mathcal B^+_{3/4}))},
\end{align*}
arguing as for the $L^p$-estimates above (but using $\varphi\in \mathcal M^{2-1/q,q}(\mathbb R^{2})(\delta)$).
Similarly, we obtain
\begin{align*}
\|\nabla \overline h_\zeta\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_{3/4};L^{q}(\mathcal B^+_{3/4}))}&\lesssim\|\nabla^2\overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_{3/4};L^{p}(\mathcal B^+_{3/4}))},\\
\|\partial_t \overline h_\zeta\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_{3/4};W^{-1,q}(\mathcal B^+_{3/4}))}&\lesssim\|\partial_t\overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_{3/4};L^{p}(\mathcal B^+_{3/4}))}+\|\overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_{3/4};L^{p}(\mathcal B^+_{3/4}))}.
\end{align*}
Applying now the result from the first step as well as Lemma \ref{lem:31} (but with the stronger assumption $\varphi\in \mathcal M^{2-1/q,q}(\mathbb R^{2})(\delta)$, see \cite[Proposition 3.5.3.]{MaSh} for inclusions of the spaces $\mathcal M^{s,p}$) yields again the claim. Note that we still have the restriction $q\leq \tfrac{3p}{3-p}$ if $p<3$.
Iterating this argument based on Sobolev's embedding and consider appropriate cut-off functions clearly allows any choice of exponent $q<\infty$.
\end{proof}
We will also need interior estimates for points close to the boundary which is why we consider
in analogy to \eqref{eq:pertstokes} the system
\begin{align}\label{eq:pertstokesint}
\begin{aligned}
J_{\varphi}\partial_t\overline\bfu+\Div\big(\bfB_{\varphi}\overline{\pi}\big)-\Div\big(\bfA_{\varphi}\nabla\overline\bfu\big)&=\bfg,\\
\bfB_{\varphi}^\top:\nabla\overline{\bfu}=h,\quad\overline\bfu|_{\mathcal B_{1}}&=0,\quad\overline{\bfu}(-1,\cdot)=0,
\end{aligned}
\end{align}
in $\mathcal Q_1$. Arguing exactly as for Lemmas \ref{lem:31} and \ref{lem:32} we obtain the following results.
\begin{lemma}\label{lem:31int}
Let $p,r\in(1,\infty)$.
Suppose that $\varphi\in \mathcal M^{2-1/p,p}(\mathbb R^{2})(\delta)$ and that $\|\varphi\|_{W^{1,\infty}_y}\leq \delta$ for some sufficiently small $\delta$. Assume further that $\overline \bfg\in L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B_1))$ and $\overline h\in L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{1,p}(\mathcal B_1))$ with $\partial_t \overline h\in L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{-1,p}(\mathcal B_1))$. Then there is a unique solution $(\overline\bfu,\overline\pi)$ to \eqref{eq:pertstokesint} which satisfies
\begin{align}\label{eq:mainparaint}
\begin{aligned}
\|\partial_t\overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^p(\mathcal B_{1}))}&+\|\overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{2,p}(\mathcal B_{1}))
+\|\overline\pi\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{1,p}(\mathcal B_{1}))}\\&\lesssim \|\overline\bfg\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^p(\mathcal B_{1}))}+\|\nabla \overline h\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B_{1}))}+\|\partial_t \overline h\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;W^{-1,p}(\mathcal B_{1}))},
\end{aligned}
\end{align}
where the hidden constant only depends on $p,r$ and $\delta$.
\end{lemma}
\begin{lemma}\label{lem:32int}
Let $p,q,r\in(1,\infty)$ with $q\geq p$.
Suppose that $\varphi\in \mathcal M^{2-1/q,q}(\mathbb R^{2})(\delta)$ and that $\|\varphi\|_{W^{1,\infty}_y}\leq \delta$ for some sufficiently small $\delta$. Assume further that $\overline\bfg\in L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B_1))$ and that $\overline h=0$.
The solution $(\overline\bfu,\overline\pi)$ to \eqref{eq:pertstokesint} satisfies
\begin{align}\label{eq:mainpara'int}
\begin{aligned}
\|\partial_t\overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_{1/2};L^q(\mathcal B_{1/2}))}&+\|\overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_{1/2};W^{2,q}(\mathcal B_{1/2}))
+\|\overline\pi\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_{1/2};W^{1,q}(\mathcal B_{1/2}))}\\&\lesssim \|\overline \bfg\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^q(\mathcal B_{1}))}+\|\nabla \overline\bfu\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B_{1}))}+\|\overline\pi-(\overline\pi)_{\mathcal B_1}\|_{L^r(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B_{1}))},
\end{aligned}
\end{align}
where the hidden constant only depends on $p,q,r$ and $\delta$.
\end{lemma}
\section{Blow-up \& proof of Theorem \ref{thm:main}}
\label{sec:blowup}
We consider a boundary suitable weak solution $(\overline\bfu,\overline\pi,\varphi)$ to the perturbed Navier--Stokes system \eqref{momref}--\eqref{divref} with forcing $\overline\bff$ as defined in Definition
\ref{def:weakSolutionflat}.
We define
the excess-functional as
\begin{align*}
\mathscr E_r^{t_0,x_0} (\overline\bfu,\overline\pi) &:= \dashint_{\mathcal Q^+_{r}(t_0,x_0)} |\overline\bfu|^3 \,\mathrm{d}y\,\mathrm{d}\sigma+ r^3\bigg(\dashint_{\mathcal Q^+_{r}(t_0,x_0)} |\overline\pi - (\overline\pi)_{\mathcal B^+_r(x_0)}|^{5/3} \,\mathrm{d}y\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\bigg)^{\frac{9}{5}}
\end{align*}
and use the short-hand notation $\mathscr E_r(\overline\bfu,\overline\pi)=:\mathscr E_r^{0,0} (\overline\bfu,\overline\pi)$.
The following lemma is the bulk of the partial regularity proof and the claim of Theorem \ref{thm:main} will follow in a standard manner.
\begin{lemma}
\label{Lemma}
Let $p>\frac{15}{4}$
and $\overline\bff\in L^{p}(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B_1^+))$ be given. Suppose that $\delta>0$ is sufficienlty small.
For any $\tau\in(0,1/2)$ there exist constants
$\varepsilon>0$ (small) and $C_\ast>0$ (large) such the following implication is true for any
triple $(\overline\bfu,\overline\pi,\varphi)$ which is a boundary suitable weak solution to \eqref{momref}--\eqref{divref} in $\mathcal Q_1^+$ in the sense of Definition \ref{def:weakSolution}, where $\varphi\in\mathcal M^{2-1/p,p}(\mathbb R^2)(\delta)$ with $\|\varphi\|_{W^{1,\infty}_y}\leq\delta$: Suppose that
\begin{equation}
\label{I1}
\mathscr E_1(\overline\bfu,\overline\pi) +
\bigg(\ddashint_{\mathcal Q^+_1} |\overline\bff|^{p} \,\mathrm{d}y\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\bigg)^{\frac{3}{p}}
\leq\varepsilon,
\end{equation}
then we have
\begin{equation}
\label{I2}
\mathscr E_\tau (\overline\bfu,\overline\pi) \le C_\ast \tau^{2\alpha} \bigg(\mathscr E_1 (\overline\bfu,\overline\pi) +\bigg(\ddashint_{\mathcal Q^+_1} |\overline\bff|^{p} \,\mathrm{d}y\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\bigg)^{\frac{3}{p}}\bigg),
\end{equation}
where $\alpha=3\big(\frac{2}{5}-\frac{3}{2p}\big)$.
\end{lemma}
\begin{proof} We argue by contradiction. Suppose there is $\tau \in (0,\tfrac{1}{2})$, and a sequence of boundary suitable weak solution $(\overline\bfu_m,\overline\pi_m,\varphi_m)$ such that
\begin{align}\label{eq:varphim}
\|\nabla\varphi_m\|_{L^{\infty}_y}+\|\varphi_m\|_{\mathcal M^{2-1/p,p}(\mathbb R^2)}\leq \delta,\quad \varphi_m(0)=0,\quad \nabla\varphi_m(0)=0,
\end{align}
as well as
\begin{align}
\label{I3}
\lambda_m^3:=& \mathscr E_1(\overline\bfu_m,\overline\pi_m)+\|\overline\bff_m\|^3_{ L^{p}(\mathcal I_1;L^{p}(\mathcal B_1^+))} \to 0, \quad \ m \to \infty, \\
\label{I4}
&\mathscr E_\tau(\overline\bfu_m,\overline\pi_m) > \tfrac{1}{2} \lambda^3_m .
\end{align}
We obtain from \eqref{eq:varphim}
\begin{align}\label{eq:varphim2}
\varphi_m\rightharpoonup^\ast\varphi\quad \text{in}\quad W^{1,\infty}(\mathbb R^{2}),\quad \varphi\in\mathcal M^{2-1/p,p}(\mathbb R^{2})(\delta),\quad \|\varphi\|_{W^{1,\infty}_y}\leq \delta.
\end{align}
Hence \eqref{est:ext} and \eqref{eq:MS} yields
\begin{align}\label{eq:Phim2}
\bfPhi_m\rightharpoonup^\ast\bfPhi\quad \text{in}\quad W^{1,\infty}(\mathbb R^3),\quad \bfPhi\in\mathcal M^{2,p}(\mathbb R^3),
\end{align}
where $\bfPhi_m$ is defined in accordance with \eqref{eq:Phi}. Finally, \eqref{eq:detJ} and \eqref{eq:SMPhiPsi} imply
\begin{align}\label{eq:Psim2}
\bfPsi_m\rightharpoonup^\ast\bfPsi\quad \text{in}\quad W^{1,\infty}(\mathbb R^3),\quad \bfPsi\in \mathcal M^{2,p}(\mathbb R^3),
\end{align}
where $\bfPsi_m$ is the inverse of $\bfPhi_m$.
We define in $\mathcal I_1\times\mathcal B^+_1$
\begin{align*}
\overline\bfv_m&:= \frac{1}{\lambda_m} \overline\bfu_m,\quad
\overline{\mathfrak q}_m:= \frac{1}{\lambda_m } \big[\overline\pi_m- (\overline\pi_m)_{\mathcal B_1^+}\big],\quad
\overline\bfg_m:=\frac{1}{\lambda_m}\overline\bff.
\end{align*}
We get from \eqref{I3}
the relation
\begin{equation}
\label{I6} \dashint_{\mathcal Q^+_1} |\overline\bfv_{m}|^3 \,\mathrm{d}z\,\mathrm{d}\sigma+ \bigg(\dashint_{\mathcal Q^+_1} |\overline{\mathfrak q}_{m}|^{5/3} \,\mathrm{d}z\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\bigg)^{\frac{9}{5}}+ \bigg(\dashint_{\mathcal Q^+_1} |\overline\bfg_{m}|^{p} \,\mathrm{d}z\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\bigg)^{\frac{3}{p}} = 1,
\end{equation}
such that, after passing to a subsequence,
\begin{align}
\label{I8}
\overline{\mathfrak{q}}_m &\rightharpoonup \overline{\mathfrak q} \quad \text{in} \quad L^{5/3} (\mathcal I_1;L^{5/3}(\mathcal B^+_1)),\\
\overline\bfv_m &\rightharpoonup \overline\bfv\quad\text{in}\quad L^3(\mathcal I_1;L^3(\mathcal B^+_1))\label{I8'},\\
\overline\bfg_m &\rightharpoonup \overline\bfg\quad\text{in}\quad L^p(\mathcal I_1;L^p(\mathcal B^+_1))\label{I8''}.
\end{align}
On the other hand, (\ref{I4}) reads after scaling
\begin{align}
\label{I7}
\dashint_{\mathcal Q_\tau^+} |\overline\bfv_{m} |^3 \,\mathrm{d}z\,\mathrm{d}\sigma
&+\tau^3\bigg(\dashint_{\mathcal I_1}\dashint_{\mathcal B_\tau^+} |\overline{\mathfrak{q}}_m - (\overline{\mathfrak q}_{m})_{\mathcal B_\tau^+} |^{5/3} \,\mathrm{d}z\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\bigg)^{\frac{9}{5}}> C_{\ast} \tau^{2\alpha} .
\end{align}
In order to proceed we use a scaled version of the equation which reads as
\begin{align}\label{eq:eq}
\begin{aligned}
J_{\varphi_m}\partial_t\overline\bfv_m+\lambda_m(\bfB_{\varphi_m}\nabla\overline\bfv_m)\overline\bfv_m+\Div\big(\bfB_{\varphi_m}\overline{\mathfrak q}_m\big)-\Div\big(\bfA_{\varphi_m}\nabla\overline\bfv_m\big)&=J_{\varphi_m}\overline\bfg_m,\\
\bfB_{\varphi_m}:\nabla{\overline\bfv}_m=0,\quad\overline\bfv_{m}|_{\mathcal B^+_{1}\cap\partial\mathbb H}&=0.
\end{aligned}
\end{align}
By \eqref{energylocal} (replacing $\zeta$ by $\zeta^2$) we have
\begin{align*}
\int_ {\mathcal B^+_1}\frac{1}{2}J_{\varphi_m}\zeta^2&\big| \overline\bfv_m(t)\big|^2\,\mathrm{d}x+\int_0^t\int_ {\mathcal B^+_1}\zeta^2\bfA_{\varphi_m}\nabla \overline\bfv_m:\nabla \overline\bfv_m\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\\& \leq\int_0^t\int_{\mathcal B^+_1}\frac{1}{2}J_{\varphi_m} |\overline\bfv_m|^2\partial_t\zeta^2\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma+\int_0^t\int_{\mathcal B^+_1}\frac{1}{2}J_{\varphi_m}| \overline\bfv_m|^2\Delta{\bfPsi_m}\circ\bfPhi_m\cdot\nabla\zeta^2\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\\&+\int_0^t\int_{\mathcal B^+_1}\frac{1}{2}| \overline\bfv_m|^2\bfA_{\varphi_m}:\nabla^2\zeta^2\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma+\int_0^t\int_{\mathcal B^+_1}\frac{1}{2}\big(\lambda_m|\overline\bfv_m|^2+2\overline{\mathfrak q}_m\big)\overline\bfv_m\cdot\bfB_{\varphi_m}\nabla\zeta^2\Big)\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\\
&+\int_0^t\int_{\Omega}J_{\varphi_m}\zeta^2\overline\bfg_m\cdot\overline\bfv_m\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma
\end{align*}
for all non-negative $\zeta\in C^\infty_c(\mathcal Q_1)$. Further, note that by \eqref{eq:Phim2} and \eqref{eq:Psim2} we know that
$J_{\varphi_m}$, $\bfA_{\varphi_m}$ and $\bfB_{\varphi_m}$ are uniformly bounded. Hence the first, third, fourth and fifth term are uniformly bounded by \eqref{I6}. The second term is more delicate and we need to employ Sobolev mutltipliers (see Section \ref{sec:SM} for a brief introduction). We obtain by \eqref{eq:Phim2}, \eqref{eq:Psim2} and \eqref{I6}
\begin{align*}
\int_0^t\int_{\mathcal B^+_1}&\frac{1}{2}J_{\varphi_m}| \overline{\bfv}_m|^2\Delta{\bfPsi_m}\circ\bfPhi_m\cdot\nabla\zeta^2\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\\&\lesssim \sum_{k=1}^3 \int_0^t\int_{\mathcal B^+_1}| \overline{\bfv}_m||\zeta\overline{\bfv}_m\Delta\bfPsi_m^k\circ\bfPhi_m|\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\\
&\lesssim \int_0^t\int_{\mathcal B^+_1}| \overline{\bfv}_m|^3\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma+\sum_{k=1}^3 \int_0^t\int_{\mathcal B^+_1}|\zeta\overline{\bfv}_m\Delta\bfPsi_m^k\circ\bfPhi_m|^{3/2}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\\
&\lesssim 1+\sum_{k=1}^3 \int_0^t\int_{\bfPhi_m(\mathcal B^+_1)}|(\zeta\overline{\bfv}_m)\circ\bfPsi_m\Delta\bfPsi_m^k|^{3/2}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma=:1+(I)_m.
\end{align*}
The remaining integral $(I)_m$ can be split into
\begin{align*}
(I)_m&\lesssim \sum_{k=1}^3 \int_0^t\int_{\bfPhi_m(\mathcal B^+_1)}|\nabla((\zeta\overline{\bfv}_m)\circ\bfPsi_m)\nabla\bfPsi_m^k|^{3/2}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\\&+\sum_{k=1}^3 \int_0^t\int_{\bfPhi_m(\mathcal B^+_1)}|\Div((\zeta\overline{\bfv}_m)\circ\bfPsi_m\otimes\nabla\bfPsi_m^k)|^{3/2}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma=:(I)_m^1+(I)_m^2.
\end{align*}
By \eqref{eq:Phim2} and \eqref{eq:Psim2} we have for $\kappa>0$ arbitrary
\begin{align}\nonumber
(I)_m^1&\lesssim \sum_{k=1}^3 \int_0^t\int_{\bfPhi_m(\mathcal B^+_1)}|\nabla(\zeta\circ\bfPsi_m)\overline{\bfv}_m\circ\bfPsi_m\nabla\bfPsi_m^k|^{3/2}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\\\nonumber
&+\sum_{k=1}^3 \int_0^t\int_{\bfPhi_m(\mathcal B^+_1)}|\zeta\circ\bfPsi_m\nabla(\overline{\bfv}_m\circ\bfPsi_m)\nabla\bfPsi_m^k|^{3/2}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\\\nonumber
&\lesssim \int_0^t\int_{\bfPhi_m(\mathcal B^+_1)}|\nabla(\zeta\circ\bfPsi_m)\overline{\bfv}_m\circ\bfPsi_m|^{3/2}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\\\nonumber
&+ \int_0^t\int_{\bfPhi_m(\mathcal B^+_1)}|\zeta\circ\bfPsi_m\nabla(\overline{\bfv}_m\circ\bfPsi_m)|^{3/2}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\\\nonumber
&\lesssim \int_0^t\int_{\mathcal B^+_1}|\overline{\bfv}_m|^{3/2}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma+ \int_0^t\int_{\mathcal B^+_1}|\zeta\nabla\overline{\bfv}_m|^{3/2}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\\
&\lesssim 1+\kappa \int_0^t\int_{\mathcal B^+_1}\zeta^2|\nabla\overline{\bfv}_m|^{2}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma
\label{eq:Im1}
\end{align}
using also \eqref{I6} in the last step. Moreover, it holds by \eqref{eq:Psim2} and \eqref{lem:9.4.1}\footnote{Note that the assumption $p\geq 3/2$ would have been sufficient here, see \cite[Proposition 3.5.3.]{MaSh} for inclusions of the spaces $\mathcal M^{s,p}$.}
\begin{align}\label{eq:Im2}\begin{aligned}
(I)_m^2&
\lesssim \sum_{k=1}^3 \int_0^t\|(\zeta\overline{\bfv}_m)\circ\bfPsi_m\|_{W^{1,3/2}(\bfPhi_m(\mathcal B^+_1))}^{3/2}\|\bfPsi_m^k\|_{\mathcal M^{2,3/2}(\bfPhi_m(\mathcal B^+_1))}^{3/2}\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\\
&
\lesssim \sum_{k=1}^3 \int_0^t|\|\zeta\overline{\bfv}_m\|_{W^{1,3/2}(\mathcal B_1^+)}^{3/2}\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\\
&\lesssim \int_0^t\int_{\mathcal B^+_1}|\overline{\bfv}_m|^{3/2}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma+ \int_0^t\int_{\mathcal B^+_1}|\zeta\nabla\overline{\bfv}_m|^{3/2}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\\
&\lesssim 1+\kappa \int_0^t\int_{\mathcal B^+_1}\zeta^2|\nabla\overline{\bfv}_m|^{2}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma.
\end{aligned}
\end{align}
Let us choose $\zeta$ such that $\zeta=1$ in $\mathcal Q_{3/4}$.
Finally, since $\bfA_{\varphi_m}$ is elliptic uniformly in $m$ and $J_{\varphi_m}$ strictly positive by \eqref{eq:detJ}, we conclude
\begin{align}\label{eq:regvm}
\overline{\bfv}_m\in L^\infty\big(\mathcal I_{3/4};L^2\big(\mathcal B^+_{3/4}\big)\big)\cap L^2\big(\mathcal I_{3/4};W^{1,2}\big(\mathcal B_{3/4}^+\big)\big)
\end{align}
uniformly in $m$ choosing $\kappa$ small enough.
By Sobolev's inequality we have for $\bfphi\in C^\infty_c(\mathcal Q_{3/4}^+)$
\begin{align*}
\int_{\mathcal Q^+_1}& \partial_t \overline{\bfv}_m\cdot \bfphi\,\mathrm{d}z\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\leq \,c\,\Big(\|\overline{\bfv}_m\|_{L^2_z}\|\nabla\overline{\bfv}_m\|_{L^2_z}+\|\overline{\mathfrak{q}}_m\|_{L^{3/2}_z}+\|\overline\bfg_m\|_{L^2_z}\Big)\|\bfphi\|_{W^{2,2}_z}.
\end{align*}
This shows by \eqref{I4} and \eqref{eq:regvm} the boundedness of
\begin{align}\label{eq:dtvm}
\partial_t \overline{\bfv}_m\in L^{2}(\mathcal I_{3/4};W^{-2,2}(\mathcal B^+_{3/4})).
\end{align}
After passing to suitable subsequences we obtain
\begin{align}
\label{31}\partial_t \overline{\bfv}_m&\rightharpoonup \partial_t\overline{\bfv}\quad\text{in}\quad L^{2}\big(\mathcal I_{3/4};W^{-2,2}
\big(\mathcal B^+_{3/4}\big)\big).
\end{align}
Now, \eqref{eq:regvm} and \eqref{eq:dtvm} imply
\begin{align}\label{eq:nablavmcomp}
\overline\bfv_m&\rightarrow \overline\bfv\quad\text{in}\quad L^3\big(\mathcal I_{3/4};L^{3}\big(\mathcal B_{3/4}^+\big)\big)
\end{align}
by the Aubin-Lions compactness theorem.
Recalling the definitions of $\bfA_{\varphi_m}$ and $\bfB_{\varphi_m}$ from \eqref{eq:AB} we are able to pass to the limit in \eqref{eq:eq} using the convergences \eqref{eq:Phim2}, \eqref{eq:Psim2}, \eqref{I8}, \eqref{I8'} \eqref{eq:regvm} and \eqref{31}. We obtain (in the sense of distributions on $\mathcal Q^+_{3/4}$)
\begin{align}\label{eq:eqlimit}
\begin{aligned}
J_{\varphi}\partial_t\overline\bfv+\Div\big(\bfB_{\varphi}\overline{\mathfrak q}\big)-\Div\big(\bfA_{\varphi}\nabla\overline\bfv\big)&=J_\varphi\overline\bfg,\\
\bfB_{\varphi}^\top:\nabla{\overline\bfv}=0,\quad\overline\bfv|_{\mathcal B^+_{3/4}\cap\partial\mathbb H}&=0,
\end{aligned}
\end{align}
recalling that the comvective term disappears as $\lambda_m\rightarrow0$. Note that since $p>3$ relation
\eqref{eq:MSb} yields boundedness of $\bfPsi_m$ and $\bfPhi_m$ in $W^{2,p}$ such that $\nabla\bfPsi_m$ and $\nabla\bfPhi_m$ are pre-compact.
We are now fully prepared to lead
\eqref{I7} to a contradiction applying the regularity theory developed in Section \ref{sec:pert} to \eqref{eq:eq} and \eqref{eq:eqlimit}. We infer from Lemma \ref{lem:32} applied to \eqref{eq:eqlimit}, using also \eqref{eq:varphim2}, that
\begin{align*}
\|\nabla^2\overline\bfv\|_{L^{5/3}(\mathcal I_{1/2};L^p(\mathcal B^+_{1/2}))}&+\|\partial_t\overline\bfv\|_{L^{5/3}(\mathcal I_{1/2};L^p(\mathcal B^+_{1/2}))}\\&\lesssim
\|\nabla\overline\bfv\|_{L^{5/3}(\mathcal I_{3/4};L^{5/3}(\mathcal B^+_{3/4}))}+\|\overline{\mathfrak q}\|_{L^{5/3}(\mathcal I_{3/4};L^{5/3}(\mathcal B^+_{3/4}))}+\|\overline\bfg\|_{L^{5/3}(\mathcal I_{3/4};L^p(\mathcal B^+_{3/4}))},
\end{align*}
where the right-hand side is finite on account of \eqref{I8}, \eqref{I8''} and \eqref{eq:regvm}. We deduce from parabolic embeddings that $\overline\bfv$ belongs to the class $C^{\beta/2,\beta}_{\mathrm{para}}(\overline{\mathcal Q}^+_{3/4})$, where $\beta=4/5-3/p>\alpha$. Note that $\beta>0$ for
$p>\frac{15}{4}$.
This, \eqref{eq:nablavmcomp} and $\overline\bfv|_{\mathcal B^+_{3/4}\cap\partial\mathbb H}=0$ prove
\begin{align}\label{eq:1809}
\lim_{m\rightarrow\infty}\dashint_{\mathcal Q^+_\tau} |\overline\bfv_m|^3 \,\mathrm{d}z\,\mathrm{d}\sigma=\dashint_{\mathcal Q^+_\tau} |\overline\bfv|^3 \,\mathrm{d}z\,\mathrm{d}\sigma
\leq C_{\overline\bfv} \tau^{3\alpha}
\end{align}
for all $\tau<\frac{1}{2}$ for some constant $C_{\overline\bfv}>0$.
Let us consider the unique solution $(\tilde\bfv_m,\tilde{\mathfrak{q}}_m)$ to
\begin{align}\label{eq:eq'}
\begin{aligned}
J_{\varphi_m}\partial_t\tilde\bfv_m+\Div\big(\bfB_{\varphi_m}\tilde{\mathfrak{q}}_m\big)-\Div\big(\bfA_{\varphi_m}\nabla\tilde\bfv_m\big)&=-\lambda_m(\bfB_{\varphi_m}\nabla\overline\bfv_m)\overline\bfv_m,\\
\bfB_{\varphi_m}^\top:\nabla\tilde{\bfv}_m=0,\quad\tilde\bfv_{m}|_{\mathcal B^+_{3/4}\cap\partial\mathbb H}&=0,\quad\overline{\bfv}_m(-3/4,\cdot)=0,
\end{aligned}
\end{align}
where the first equation is understood in the sense of distributions on $\mathcal Q^+_{3/4}$.
By the regularity theory for the perturbed Stokes system established in Lemma \ref{lem:31} (which applies on account of \eqref{eq:varphim2}) we have in $\mathcal Q^+_{3/4}$
\begin{align}\label{eq:1809b}
\begin{aligned}
\|\nabla^2\tilde\bfv_m\|_{L^{5/3}_tL^{{15/14}}_x}&+\|\nabla\tilde{\mathfrak{q}}_m\|_{L^{5/3}_tL^{{15/14}}_x}\\&\lesssim\lambda_m\|(\bfB_{\varphi_m}\nabla\overline\bfv_m)\overline\bfv_m\|_{L^{5/3}_tL^{{15/14}}_x}\longrightarrow0,\quad m\rightarrow\infty,
\end{aligned}
\end{align}
using \eqref{eq:varphim} and
\eqref{eq:regvm}. Now we consider the difference
$\tilde\bfv^\ast_m=\tilde\bfv_m-\overline\bfv_m$, $\tilde{\mathfrak{q}}_m^\ast=\tilde{\mathfrak{q}}_m-\overline{\mathfrak{q}}_m$ which solves a Stokes system with right-hand side $J_{\varphi_m}\overline\bfg_m$ in $\mathcal Q_{3/4}^+$
and hence satisfies
\begin{align*}
\|\nabla\tilde{\mathfrak{q}}^\ast_m\|_{L^{5/3}_tL^{p}_x}\lesssim\|\overline\bfg_m\|_{L^{5/3}_tL^{p}_x}+\|\nabla\tilde\bfv^\ast_m\|_{L^{5/3}_tL^{{15/14}}_x}+\|\tilde{\mathfrak{q}}^\ast_m-(\tilde{\mathfrak{q}}_m^\ast)_{\mathcal B^+_{3/4}}\|_{L^{5/3}L^{{15/14}}}
\end{align*}
by Lemma \ref{lem:32} using also \eqref{eq:varphim2}. Here the norm on the left-hand side is taken over $\mathcal Q_{1/2}^+$ and the one on the right-hand side over $\mathcal Q_{3/4}^+$.
The first term on the right-hand side is bounded by \eqref{I6} and the second one by \eqref{eq:regvm} and \eqref{eq:1809b} (recall that $\tilde\bfv_m$ has zero boundary conditions). For the third one we have
\begin{align*}
\|\tilde{\mathfrak{q}}^\ast_m-(\tilde{\mathfrak{q}}^\ast_m)_{\mathcal B^+_{3/4}}\|_{L^{5/3}_xL^{{15/14}}_x}&\lesssim\|\overline{\mathfrak{q}}_m-(\overline{\mathfrak{q}}_m)_{\mathcal B^+_{3/4}}\|_{L^{5/3}_tL^{{15/14}}_x}+\|\tilde{\mathfrak{q}}_m-(\tilde{\mathfrak{q}}_m)_{\mathcal B^+_{3/4}}\|_{L^{5/3}_tL^{{15/14}}_x}\\
&\lesssim\|\overline{\mathfrak{q}}_m\|_{L^{5/3}_tL^{{15/14}}_x}+\|\nabla\tilde{\mathfrak{q}}_m\|_{L^{5/3}_tL^{{15/14}}_x},
\end{align*}
which is bounded by \eqref{I8} and \eqref{eq:1809b}. We conclude, that
$
\|\nabla\tilde{\mathfrak{q}}^\ast_m\|_{L^{5/3}_tL^{p}_x}$ (with norm taken over $\mathcal Q_{1/2}^+$) is bounded
which yields
\begin{align*}
\tau^{3}\bigg(\dashint_{\mathcal I_\tau}\dashint_{\mathcal B^+_\tau} |\tilde{\mathfrak{q}}^\ast_m - (\tilde{\mathfrak q}_{m}^\ast)_{\mathcal B^+_{\tau}} |^{5/3} \,\mathrm{d}z\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\bigg)^{\frac{9}{5}}
&\lesssim\tau^{-3}\bigg(\int_{-\tau}^{\tau}\int_{\mathcal B^+_\tau} |\nabla\tilde{\mathfrak{q}}^\ast_m |^{5/3} \,\mathrm{d}z\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\bigg)^{\frac{9}{5}}\\
&\leq\tau^{-3}
\bigg(\int_{-\tau}^{\tau}\tau^{3-\frac{5}{p}}\bigg(\int_{\mathcal B^+_\tau} |\nabla\tilde{\mathfrak{q}}^\ast_m |^{p} \,\mathrm{d}z\bigg)^{\frac{5}{3p}}\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\bigg)^{\frac{9}{5}}\\
&\lesssim\tau^{2\alpha},
\end{align*}
where $\alpha=3\big(\frac{2}{5}-\frac{3}{2p}\big)$.
Combining this with \eqref{eq:1809b} and Sobolev's embedding $W^{1,15/14}_x\hookrightarrow L^{5/3}_x$ shows
\begin{align*}
\limsup_m \tau^3\bigg(&\dashint_{\mathcal I_\tau}\dashint_{\mathcal Q^+_\tau} |\overline{\mathfrak{q}}_m - (\overline{\mathfrak q}_{m})_{\mathcal B^+_{\tau}} |^{5/3} \,\mathrm{d}z\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\bigg)^{\frac{9}{5}}\\&=
\limsup_m \tau^3\bigg(\dashint_{\mathcal I_\tau}\dashint_{\mathcal B_\tau^+} |\tilde{\mathfrak{q}}^\ast_m - (\tilde{\mathfrak q}^\ast_{m})_{\mathcal B^+_{\tau}} |^{5/3} \,\mathrm{d}z\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\bigg)^{\frac{9}{5}}\leq \,C_{\overline{\mathfrak q}}\tau^{2\alpha}
\end{align*}
for some constant $C_{\overline{\mathfrak q}}$.
This, together with \eqref{eq:1809}, contradicts \eqref{I7} if we choose $C_\ast>C_{\overline\bfv}+C_{\overline{\mathfrak q}}$.
\end{proof}
\begin{proof}[Proof of Theorem \ref{thm:main}]
By assumption we have
\begin{align*}
r^{-2}\int_{t_0-r^2}^{t_0+r^2}\int_{\Omega\cap \mathcal B_r(x_0)}|\bfu|^3\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}t+\bigg(r^{-5/3}\int_{t_0-r^2}^{t_0+r^2}\int_{\Omega\cap \mathcal B_r(x_0)}|\pi|^{5/3}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d} t\bigg)^{\frac{9}{5}}<\varepsilon_0.
\end{align*}
After rotation and translation of the coordinate system we can assume that $(t_0,x_0)=(0,0)$. With the mapping $\bfPhi$ from \eqref{eq:Phi} we turn to the functions $\overline \pi=\pi\circ\bfPhi$ and $\overline{\bfu}=\bfu\circ\bfPhi$ which solve the perturbed system \eqref{momref} in $I\times \mathcal B^+_{\lambda\mathfrak R}$. Here $\mathfrak R$ is given in Remark \ref{rem:cover} and $\lambda$ is chosen such that $\bfPhi(\mathcal B^+_{\lambda\mathfrak R})\subset\Omega\cap B_{\mathfrak R}$ (recall that $\bfPhi$ is Lipschitz). We obtain with $R:=\lambda r$
\begin{align*}
R^3\mathscr E_{R}^{t_0,x_0}&(\overline \bfu,\overline\pi)\lesssim R^{-2}\int_{t_0-R^2}^{t_0+R^2}\int_{ \mathcal B^+_{R}}|\overline\bfu|^3\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}t+R^{-3}\bigg(\int_{t_0-R^2}^{t_0+R^2}\int_{\mathcal B_R^+}|\overline\pi|^{5/3}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d} t\bigg)^{\frac{9}{5}}\\&\lesssim
r^{-2}\int_{t_0-r^2}^{t_0+r^2}\int_{\Omega\cap \mathcal B_r(x_0)}|\bfu|^3\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}t+\bigg(r^{-5/3}\int_{t_0-r^2}^{t_0+r^2}\int_{\Omega\cap \mathcal B_r(x_0)}|\pi|^{5/3}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d} t\bigg)^{\frac{9}{5}}
<\varepsilon_{0}.
\end{align*}
Furthermore, it holds
\begin{align*}
R^{9}\bigg(\dashint_{t_0-R^2}^{t_0+R^2}\dashint_{\mathcal B_R^+}|\overline\bff|^{p}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d} t\bigg)^{\frac{3}{p}}=\bigg(R^{3p-5}\int_{t_0-R^2}^{t_0+R^2}\int_{\mathcal B_R^+}|\overline\bff|^{p}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d} t\bigg)^{\frac{3}{p}}<\varepsilon_0
\end{align*}
provided we choose $R$ small enough. If $\varepsilon_0$ is small enough we obtain
\begin{equation*}
R^3\mathscr E_{R}^{t_0,x_0}(\overline\bfu,\overline\pi) +
R^9\bigg(\ddashint_{\mathcal Q^+_R} |\overline\bff|^{p} \,\mathrm{d}y\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\bigg)^{\frac{3}{p}}
\leq\varepsilon,
\end{equation*}
such that a scaled version of Lemma \ref{Lemma} applies (note that $\varphi$ must be scaled to $\frac{1}{R}\varphi(R\cdot)$ such that its multiplier norm and Lipschitz constant are still bounded by $\delta$ as long as $R\leq1$). We conclude
that
\begin{equation*}
R^3\mathscr E^{t_0,x_0}_{\tau R} (\overline\bfu,\overline\pi) \le C_\ast \tau^{2\alpha} \bigg(R^3\mathscr E_R^{t_0,x_0} (\overline\bfu,\overline\pi) +R^9\bigg(\ddashint_{\mathcal Q^+_R} |\overline\bff|^{p} \,\mathrm{d}y\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\bigg)^{\frac{3}{p}}\bigg).
\end{equation*}
It is standard to iterate this inequality (see, e.g., \cite[Prop. 2.5]{EsSeSv}), which yields
\begin{align*}
\mathscr E_{\tau^k R}^{t_0,x_0}(\overline \bfu,\overline\pi)\lesssim \tau^{2\alpha k}.
\end{align*}
We trivially obtain
\begin{align}
\widetilde{\mathscr E}_{\tau^k R}^{t_0,x_0}(\overline\bfu,\overline\pi)\lesssim \tau^{2\alpha k},\label{decay1}
\end{align}
where the access $\widetilde{\mathscr E}$ is given by
\begin{align*}
\widetilde{\mathscr E}_{r}^{t_0,x_0} (\overline\bfu,\overline\pi) &:= \dashint_{\mathcal Q_{r}(t_0,x_0)\cap (I\times\Omega)} |\overline\bfu-(\overline\bfu)_{\mathcal Q_{r}(t_0,x_0)\cap (I\times\Omega)}|^3 \,\mathrm{d}y\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\\&+ r^3\bigg(\dashint_{\mathcal I_r(t_0)}\dashint_{\mathcal B^+_{r}(x_0)} |\overline\pi - (\overline\pi)_{\mathcal B_r(x_0)\cap\Omega}|^{5/3} \,\mathrm{d}y\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\bigg)^{\frac{9}{5}}.
\end{align*}
The decay estimate \eqref{decay1} holds in the centre point $(t_0,x_0)=(0,0)$ of $\mathcal Q_1^+$ but also for points $(t_0,x_0)$ on $I\times \partial\Omega$ which are sufficiently close. We claim that it continues to hold in the interior of $\Omega$. In fact, we can prove a version of Lemma \ref{Lemma} for interior points for which $\mathcal Q_R(t_0,x_0)\subset \mathcal Q^+$. The main difference is that one has to replace in the proof Lemmas \ref{lem:31} and \ref{lem:32} by their corresponding interior versions Lemmas \ref{lem:31int} and \ref{lem:32int}. Combining the interior and the boundary version yields
\begin{align*}
\widetilde{\mathscr E}_{\tau^k R}^{t_0,x_0}(\bfu,\pi)\lesssim r^{2\alpha}.
\end{align*}
This proves that $\overline\bfu\in C^{0,\alpha}$ in a neighborhood of $(0,0)$. Changing coordinates (that is, recalling that $\bfu=\overline\bfu\circ\bfPsi$ where $\bfPsi$ is Lipschitz, cf. \eqref{eq:detJ}) and changing the coordinate system as the case may be, proves $\bfu\in C^{0,\alpha}(\overline{\mathcal U}(t_0,x_0))$ for some neighborhood $\mathcal U(t_0,x_0)$ of $(t_0,x_0)$.
\end{proof}
\section{Concluding remarks \& outlook}
\subsection{The size of the singular set}
\label{sec:setsize}
We comment in this section on the fact that our estimate on the size of the singular set
in Theorem \ref{thm:main'} (dimension $\leq 5/3$) is weaker
than that from \cite{SeShSo} for regular boundaries.
We introduce the dissipation functional
\begin{align*}
\mathscr D_r(\overline\bfu)=\dashint_{\mathcal Q_r^+}|\nabla\overline\bfu|^2\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}t.
\end{align*}
The following implication is proved in \cite[proof of Theorem 5.1]{SeShSo}:
\begin{align}\label{eq:DE}
\sup_{r<1}\frac{1}{r}\int_{\mathcal Q_r^+}|\nabla\overline\bfu|^2\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}t<\varepsilon_{\mathscr D}\quad\Rightarrow \quad \liminf_{r\rightarrow0}r^3\mathscr E_r(\overline\bfu,\overline\pi)<\varepsilon,
\end{align}
where $\varepsilon_{\mathscr D}$ is a small number. The size of the set where the first condition is violated is much smaller than the size of the set where the second one is violated (the parabolic Hausdorff-dimensions are 1 and 5/3). Let us explain the strategy to prove the implication \eqref{eq:DE}.
Transforming the local energy inequality to the flat geometry (as we did in \eqref{energylocal}) and diving by $r$, they proof (in our notation)
\begin{align}\label{eq:2101}
\sup_{\mathcal I_{3r/4}}\frac{1}{r}\int_{\mathcal B_{3r/4}^+}|\overline\bfu|^2\,\mathrm{d}x+\frac{1}{r}\int_{\mathcal Q_{3r/4}^+}|\nabla\overline\bfu|^2\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}t&\lesssim r^3\mathscr E_r(\overline\bfu,\overline\pi)+\big(r^3\mathscr E_r(\overline\bfu,\overline\pi)\big)^{2/3}.
\end{align}
Arguing as in \eqref{eq:Im1} and \eqref{eq:Im2} and appreciating the correct scaling (that is, we have $|\nabla\zeta|\lesssim r^{-1}$, $|\partial_t\zeta|\lesssim r^{-2}$ and $|\nabla^2\zeta|\lesssim r^{-2}$), the additional terms
\begin{align*}
\frac{1}{r^{7/2}}\int_{\mathcal I_r}\int_{\mathcal B^+_r}|\overline\bfu|^{3/2}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\quad\text{and}\quad \frac{1}{r^2}\int_{\mathcal I_r}\int_{\mathcal B^+_r}|\zeta\nabla\overline\bfu|^{3/2}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma
\end{align*}
appear in our situation.
The first term can be estimated by
\begin{align*}
\frac{1}{r^{2}}\int_{\mathcal I_r}\int_{\mathcal B^+_r}|\overline\bfu|^{3}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma+ \frac{1}{r^{5}}\int_{\mathcal I_r}\int_{\mathcal B^+_r}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma\lesssim r^3\mathscr E_r(\overline\bfu,\overline\pi)+1
\end{align*}
and, similarly, we have the upper bound
\begin{align*}
\frac{\kappa}{r}\int_{\mathcal I_r}\int_{\mathcal B^+_r}|\zeta\nabla\overline\bfu|^{2}\,\mathrm{d}x\,\mathrm{d}\sigma+ c_\kappa
\end{align*}
with $\kappa>0$ arbitrary for the second one.
Here the remaining integral can be absorbed in the left-hand side of \eqref{eq:2101} if $\kappa$ is sufficiently small. In conclusion, we obtain an additional (additive) constant on the right-hand side of \eqref{eq:2101}. We could allow a quantity which disappears in the limit $r\rightarrow0$, but a nontrivial constant destroys the argument for the proof of \eqref{eq:DE}.
\subsection{Optimality of the assumptions on the boundary}
\label{sec:opt}
We are able to significantly relax the assumptions regarding the regularity of the boundary made in \cite{SeShSo} ($C^2$ versus $W^{2-1/p,p}$ for some $p>\frac{15}{4}$). However, it is unclear if our assumptions in Theorems \ref{thm:main} and \ref{thm:main'} are optimal or if they can still be weakened. The assumptions on the coefficients for the perturbed Stokes system in Lemma \ref{lem:31} are certainly optimal as the theory of Sobolev multipliers already yields optimal results for the Laplace equation, see \cite[Chapter 14]{MaSh}.
There are various stages in the proof of the blow up lemma (see Lemma \ref{Lemma}), which require restrictions on the regularity of $\bfPhi$ (and hence that of $\varphi$):
\begin{itemize}
\item In order to control the local energy inequality in the flat geometry second derivatives of $\bfPhi_m$ appear (see $(I)_m^2$ in the proof of \eqref{eq:nablavmcomp}). We need $\bfPhi_m\in \mathcal M^{2,3/2}(\delta)$ (and hence $\varphi_m\in \mathcal M^{4/3,3/2}(\delta)$) to estimate the critical term.
We do not expect that it is possible to relax this.
\item We need the limit function $\overline\bfv$ - solution to some perturbed Stokes system - to be H\"older-continuous.
By parabolic embeddings this follows from an estimate in
\begin{align*}
L^{5/3}_tW^{2,p}_x\cap W^{1,5/3}_tL^p_x,
\end{align*}
which requires $\bfPhi_m\in \mathcal M^{2,p}(\delta)$ (and hence $\varphi_m\in \mathcal M^{2-1/p,p}(\delta)$) provided $p>\frac{15}{4}$.
However, we believe that H\"older-continuity of $\overline\bfv$ can be proved under much weaker assumptions. Unfortunately, we were unable to trace a suitable reference. Of course, it will be absolutely necessary to have continuity of solutions of the perturbed Stokes system. The latter is used as a local comparison system and continuity of the solution to the perturbed Navier--Stokes system cannot be expected otherwise.
\item In order to control the decay of the pressure to arrive at the contradiction in the blow up lemma (see Lemma \ref{Lemma})
we need an estimate for $\nabla\tilde{\mathfrak q}_m$ in $L^{5/3}_t L^p_x$ with some $p>\frac{15}{4}$. For this, the same assumptions on $\bfPhi_m$ as in the previous bullet point are needed. Here,
we expect that it will be very difficult to relax this. Note in particular, that the Stokes system does not allow for estimates on the pressure in spaces with differentiability less than 1 (as in this case the time derivative only exists as a distribution on the solenoidal test-functions). This estimate also motivated the choice of our excess functional for which the time-integrability of the pressure is chosen as large as possible, while it should still coincide with the space integrability (in fact, one could allow a smaller space integrability, but this does not seem to improve the estimate for the size of the singular set).
The more customary choice
\begin{align*}
{\mathscr E}_r^{t_0,x_0} (\overline\bfu,\overline\pi) &:= \dashint_{\mathcal Q^+_{r}(t_0,x_0)} |\overline\bfu|^3 \,\mathrm{d}y\,\mathrm{d}\sigma+ r^3\dashint_{\mathcal Q^+_{r}(t_0,x_0)} |\overline\pi - (\overline\pi)_{\mathcal Q^+_r(x_0)}|^{\frac{3}{2}} \,\mathrm{d}y\,\mathrm{d}\sigma,
\end{align*}
introduced initially in \cite{L},
requires the more restrictive assumption $p>\frac{9}{2}$.
The original excess functional from \cite{CKN}, which is based on
the function space $L_t^{5/4}L^{5/3}_x$ for the pressure, leads to the condition $p>\frac{15}{2}$ instead.
In general, for $\pi\in L_t^{r_\ast}L^{s_\ast}_x$ one has the condition
$p>\tfrac{3r_\ast}{2 r_\ast-2}$.
\end{itemize}
\subsection{Fluid-structure interaction}
\label{sec:fsi}
In a typical problem from fluid-structure interaction an elastic structure is located at a non-trivial part $\Gamma\subset \partial\Omega$, where $\Omega$ plays the role of a reference geometry. The deformation of the structure is described by a function $\eta:I\times \Gamma\rightarrow\mathbb R$ and the domain $\Omega$ is deformed to
$\Omega_{\eta(t)}$ defined through its boundary
\begin{align*}
\partial\Omega_{\eta(t)}=\{y+\eta(t,y)\nu(y):\,y\in\partial\Omega\},
\end{align*}
where $\nu$ is the outer unit normal at $\partial\Omega$. The Navier--Stokes equations are posed in the moving space-time cylinder given by
\begin{align*}
I\times\Omega_\eta:=\bigcup_{t\in I}\{t\}\times\Omega_{\eta(t)}
\end{align*}
with some abuse of notation.
The displacement $\eta$ is the solution to a hyperbolic equation, a proto-typical example is
\begin{align}\label{eq:eta}
\varrho_s\partial_t^2\eta+\beta\Delta^2\eta=\bfF\quad\text{in}\quad I\times \Gamma
\end{align}
with $\varrho_s,\beta>0$ describing a linearised Koiter-type shell.
The function $\bfF$ on the right-hand side describes the response of the structure to the surface forces of the fluid imposed by the Cauchy stress. The existence of a weak solution to the coupled system has been shown in \cite{LeRu}. Solutions belong to the energy space which means for the structure that
\begin{align*}
\eta\in W^{1,\infty}(I;L^2(\Gamma))\cap L^\infty(I;W^{2,2}(\Gamma)).
\end{align*}
The second function space (and Sobolev's embedding in two dimensions) indicates that the boundary of $\Omega_{\eta(t)}$ is not even Lipschitz. With only this information at hand we do not expect that a theory similar to that in the present paper is reachable. It has, however, been shown very recently in \cite{MuSc} that solutions satisfy additionally
\begin{align}\label{eq:1401b}
\eta\in W^{1,2}(I;W^{\theta,2}(\Gamma))\cap L^2(I;W^{2+\theta,2}(\Gamma)).
\end{align}
for all $\theta<\frac{1}{2}$. Due to the compact embeddings
\begin{align*}
W^{2+\theta,2}(\Gamma)\hookrightarrow\hookrightarrow W^{1,\infty}(\Gamma),\quad W^{2+\theta,2}(\Gamma)\hookrightarrow\hookrightarrow W^{2-1/p,p}(\Gamma),
\end{align*}
from some $p>\tfrac{15}{4}$ we obtain $\mathrm{Lip}(\partial\Omega_{\eta(t)})\leq\delta$ and $\partial\Omega_{\eta(t)}\in\mathcal M^{2-1/p,p}(\mathbb R^2)(\delta)$ as required in Theorems \ref{thm:main} and \ref{thm:main'}.
Unfortunately, this smallness is not uniformly in time.
While we expect that methods similarly to those developed here can also be applied to study Navier--Stokes equations in moving domains (this is already highly non-trivial and requires some additional research), it is not clear if the regularity from \eqref{eq:1401b} will be sufficient. Some further analysis is required.
\section*{Compliance with Ethical Standards}\label{conflicts}
\smallskip
\par\noindent
{\bf Conflict of Interest}. The author declares that he has no conflict of interest.
\smallskip
\par\noindent
{\bf Data Availability}. Data sharing is not applicable to this article as no datasets were generated or analysed
during the current study.
| {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaArXiv"
} | 4,337 |
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Angles may be classified by their degree measure.\n\n\u2022 Acute Angle: an angle is an acute angle if and only if it has a measure of less than 90\u00b0\n\u2022 Right Angle: an angle is an right angle if and only if it has a measure of exactly 90\u00b0\n\u2022 Obtuse Angle: an angle is an obtuse angle if and only if it has a measure of greater than 90\u00b0\n\nIf P is in the interior of an angle $\\angle ABC$, then $\\angle ABC = \\angle ABP + \\angle PBC$\n\n## C\n\n#### Center of a circle\n\nPoint P is the center of circle C if and only if all points in circle C are equidistant from point P and point P is contained in the same plane as circle C.\n\n#### Circle\n\nA collection of points is said to be a circle with a center at point P and a radius of some distance r if and only if it is the collection of all points which are a distance of r away from point P and are contained by a plane which contain point P.\n\n#### Concave\n\nA polygon is said to be concave if and only if it contains at least one interior angle with a measure greater than 180\u00b0 exclusively and less than 360\u00b0 exclusively.\n\n#### Corresponding angles\n\nThere are four pairs of corresponding angles: \u22201 and \u22203, \u22202 and \u22204, \u22205 and \u22207, and \u22206 and \u22208.\n\nTwo angles formed by a transversal intersecting with two lines are corresponding angles if and only if one is on the inside of the two lines, the other is on the outside of the two lines, and both are on the same side of the transversal.\n\n#### Corresponding Angles Postulate\n\nIf two lines cut by a transversal are parallel, then their corresponding angles are congruent.\n\n#### Corresponding Parts of Congruent Triangles are Congruent Postulate\n\nThe Corresponding Parts of Congruent Triangles are Congruent Postulate (CPCTC) states:\n\nIf \u2206ABC \u2245 \u2206XYZ, then all parts of \u2206ABC are congruent to their corresponding parts in \u2206XYZ. For example:\n\u2022 $\\overline {AB}\\;$$\\overline {XY} \\;$\n\u2022 $\\overline {BC}\\;$$\\overline {YZ} \\;$\n\u2022 $\\overline {AC}\\;$$\\overline {XZ} \\;$\n\u2022 \u2220ABC \u2245 \u2220XYZ\n\u2022 \u2220BCA \u2245 \u2220YZX\n\u2022 \u2220CAB \u2245 \u2220ZXY\n\nCPCTC also applies to all other parts of the triangles, such as a triangle's altitude, median, circumcenter, et al.\n\n## D\n\n#### Diameter\n\nA line segment is the diameter of a circle if and only if it is a chord of the circle which contains the circle's center.\n\nSee Circle\n\nand if they cross they are congruent\n\n## L\n\n#### Line\n\nA collection of points is a line if and only if the collection of points is perfectly straight (aligned), is infinitely long, and is infinitely thin. Between any two points on a line, there exists an infinite number of points which are also contained by the line. Lines are usually written by two points in the line, such as line AB, or $\\overleftrightarrow{AB}$\n\n#### Line segment\n\nLine segment MN\n\nA collection of points is a line segment if and only if it is perfectly straight, is infinitely thin, and has a finite length. A line segment is measured by the shortest distance between the two extreme points on the line segment, known as endpoints. Between any two points on a line segment, there exists an infinite number of points which are also contained by the line segment.\n\n## P\n\n#### Parallel lines\n\nTwo lines or line segments are said to be parallel if and only if the lines are contained by the same plane and have no points in common if continued infinitely.\n\n#### Parallel planes\n\nTwo planes are said to be parallel if and only if the planes have no points in common when continued infinitely.\n\n#### Perpendicular lines\n\nTwo lines that intersect at a 90\u00b0 angle.\n\n#### Perpendicular Postulate\n\nGiven a line, $\\overleftrightarrow{AB}$ and a point P not in line $\\overleftrightarrow{AB}$, then there is one and only one line that goes through point P perpendicular to $\\overleftrightarrow{AB}$\n\n#### Plane\n\nAn object is a plane if and only if it is a two-dimensional object which has no thickness or curvature and continues infinitely. A plane can be defined by three points. A plane may be considered to be analogous to a piece of paper[1].\n\n#### Point\n\nA point is a zero-dimensional mathematical object representing a location in one or more dimensions[2]. A point has no size; it has only location.\n\n#### Polygon\n\nA polygon is a closed plane figure composed of at least 3 straight lines. Each side has to intersect another side at their respective endpoints, and that the lines intersecting are not collinear.\n\n## R\n\nThe radius of a circle is the distance between any given point on the circle and the circle's center.\n\nSee Circle\n\n#### Ray\n\nA ray is a straight collection of points which continues infinitely in one direction. The point at which the ray stops is known as the ray's endpoint. Between any two points on a ray, there exists an infinite number of points which are also contained by the ray.\n\n#### Ruler Postulate\n\nThe points on a line can be matched one to one with the real numbers. The real number that corresponds to a point is the point's coordinate. 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\section{Introduction}
\label{sec:intro}
Speech synthesis and voice conversion technologies \cite{sisman21} have rapidly grown in the last years, mainly thanks to the development of the deep learning paradigm. Although this broadens the application of these technologies, a threat is also present: the generation of deepfake speech that can even foolish modern automatic speaker verification systems \cite{tan21}. The need for reliable countermeasures has favored the research on audio deepfake detection systems able to detect spoofed speech \cite{wu15}. An example of this effort is the ASVspoof series \cite{wu15asv,todisco19}, consisting of biannual challenges focused on the development of antispoofing countermeasures for verification systems.
The continuous improvements in audio deepfake detection have widespread interest in developing robust solutions in realistic challenging scenarios. For example, the systems robustness on noisy and reverberant scenarios was studied in \cite{tian16,gomez19}. Likewise, the ASVspoof2021 challenge \cite{yamagishi21} considered synthesized speech transmitted over different telephone networks, as well as speech deepfakes modified through commercial compression algorithms. Moreover, recent works \cite{zhang21} have explored the detection of partially spoofed audio. In order to continue improving these systems in complex environments, the 2022 Audio Deep synthesis Detection (ADD) challenge has been recently launched \cite{yi22}. Its main goal is the detection of deep synthesis and manipulated audios, and it includes three different tracks: 1) Low-quality fake audio detection (diverse background noises and disturbances are contained in the audios); 2) Partially fake audio detection (several small fake speech segments are hidden in real audio); and 3) Audio fake game.
This paper presents our contributions to the ADD 2022 challenge, based on the use of the wav2vec2 (W2V2) \cite{baevski20} approach to extract discriminative information that helps detect spoofed audio. These models are trained with self-supervised learning methods with a large amount of unlabelled speech data, allowing to learn high-level representations of the speech signal. W2V2 has been explored in different speech processing tasks, such as speech recognition, speaker verification \cite{chen21} and emotion classification \cite{pepino21}. Regarding audio deepfake detection, only a few works have explored this approach or similar \cite{xie21,wang21}. Differently from previous works, we propose to use a pre-trained W2V2 model as a feature extractor, but using the encoded representations of the different transformer layers. This information can be then exploited by a simple but effective downstream model to detect spoofing attacks. Moreover, we analyzed different data augmentation techniques to adapt the classifier to the final application scenario. Our approach was evaluated in both tracks 1 and 2 of the ADD challenge, where it achieved first and fourth position among the participants, respectively. In addition, we include results on the logical access and speech deepfake tracks of the ASVspoof 2021.
The remainder of this paper is organized as follows. In Section~\ref{sec:proposal}, we present our proposal based on the W2V2 approach. Section~\ref{sec:framework} describes the speech databases used for the evaluations and the data augmentation training strategies. Then, in Section~\ref{sec:res}, the results are presented and analyzed. Finally, conclusions are summarized in Section~\ref{sec:conclusions}.
\section{wav2vec2-based audio deepfake detection approach}
\label{sec:proposal}
A diagram of our proposed system for the ADD challenge is depicted in \figurename{~\ref{fig:w2v2}}. It is composed of a W2V2 feature extractor, which obtains the encoded speech representations, and a classification model that scores the input audio as genuine or spoof. A detailed explanation of each part is presented in the next subsections.
\begin{figure}[!t]
\centering
\includestandalone[width=0.9\linewidth,trim={0 1.2em 0 0},clip]{scheme}
\caption{Overview of the proposed audio deepfake detection approach based on wav2vec2.}
\label{fig:w2v2}
\end{figure}
\subsection{Wav2vec2 as Feature Extractor}
As the base W2V2 architecture, we evaluated the Large models of 300M parameters, presented in \cite{babu21}, trained with 53 and 128 languages (XLS-53 and XLS-128, respectively). The raw speech signal is first processed by a feature encoder composed of several convolutional layers (CNN), which extracts vector representations of size 1024 every 20 ms, using a receptive field of 25 ms. Then, these encoder features are fed into a transformer network with 24 layers which is used to obtain contextualized representations of the speech signal. The model is trained in a self-supervised setting using a contrastive loss. The objective is to predict the quantized representations of certain masked encoded feature representations from a set of distractors using the contextualized representations. Thus, this model can learn high-level representations of the speech signal from a large amount of unlabelled data. The features extracted from the pre-trained W2V2 model can be used to train a downstream classifier in a specific speech processing task with a relatively few amount of labeled data. Moreover, the W2V2 and downstream models can be jointly trained in the related task. In this work, we explore the use of W2V2 as a pre-trained model, thus allowing to have a general feature extractor that can be used with specialized classification models adapted to each spoofing detection task.
\subsection{Classification Model}
\begin{table}[!t]
\caption{Architecture of the downstream classification model. It includes each layer and its output dimension, where $T$ is the number of time frames and $N$ the size of the mini-batch.}
\label{table:classmodel}
\centering
\vspace{1em}
\resizebox{0.9\linewidth}{!}{
\begin{tabular}{c|c}
\hline
\textbf{Layer name} & \textbf{Output size} \\ \hline
W2V2 features & $N$ $\times$ T $\times$ 1024 $\times$ 25 \\
Temp. Norm. + Layer weight. & $N$ $\times$ T $\times$ 1024 \\
FF Layer (1 and 2) & $N$ $\times$ T $\times$ 128 \\
Att. Stat. Pool. & $N$ $\times$ 256 \\
FF Linear & $N$ $\times$ 128 \\
Cosine Layer & $N$ \\ \hline
\end{tabular}
}
\end{table}
The contextualized representations from the last transformer layer of a pre-trained model can be useful for certain speech tasks, like speech recognition. Nevertheless, previous works have shown that for other tasks, for example, speaker verification or emotion recognition, more discriminative information can be obtained from the first or intermediate layers \cite{chen21,pepino21}. Therefore, we followed the methodology of these previous works and used the hidden representations of the different transformer layers as input for our downstream model.
The classification model processes the W2V2 hidden representations as follows. First, a temporal normalization \cite{ulyanov16} is applied at the input features from each transformer layer. Then, for each temporal step $t$, an output representation is computed from the normalized hidden representations $\mathbf{h}_{t,l}$ as $\mathbf{o}_{t} = \sum_{l=0}^{L} \alpha_{l} \mathbf{h}_{t,l}$,
where $l$ represents the hidden layer index, $L$ the number of transformer layers, and $\alpha_{l}$ are network trainable weights, which are normalized to sum one \cite{pepino21}. The computed vectors at each time step are fed into two feed-forward (FF) layers with ReLU activation and dropout, and then they are passed to an attentive statistical pooling layer \cite{okabe18}. This attention layer computes and concatenates the temporal mean and standard deviation of the vectors at the different time steps, thus obtaining a single representation for the whole utterance. A linear layer (FF without non-linearity) is then applied to compute the embedding vector $\mathbf{e}$. Finally, the final score is obtained as a cosine similarity, $S = \cos(\mathbf{w}, \mathbf{e}) \in [-1,1]$, where $\mathbf{w}$ is a vector network parameter representing the direction of genuine speech in the embedding space. The classification model is shown in more detail in Table~\ref{table:classmodel}. The model is trained to compute higher scores for genuine speech using a One-class softmax loss function \cite{zhang21spl}.
\section{Experimental framework}
\label{sec:framework}
This section describes the speech databases used to train and evaluate our systems, as well as the data augmentation techniques and training setup procedure. For each of the challenges, we trained our systems using only the corresponding train data of that challenge (closed conditions).
\subsection{ADD 2022 challenge database}
The ADD 2022 database \cite{yi22} comprises spoofed audio generated by speech synthesis and voice conversion systems. The train and development (dev) sets contain clean speech based on the multi-speaker Mandarin speech corpus AISHELL-3 \cite{shi20}. Each set has about 28K utterances, with different speakers each. Tracks 1 and 2 include both an adaptation set with about 1K utterances, and a test set with about 100K utterances without labels. The adaptation set presents similar conditions that the audios in the test set, and it is provided to adapt the systems trained with the general train set. For track 1, the corresponding sets incorporate both genuine and spoof utterances with various real-world noises and background music. For track 2, the corresponding sets include genuine utterances and partially fake utterances generated by manipulating the original genuine speech with real or synthesized audio.
\subsection{ASVspoof 2021 challenge database}
We focused on the logical access (LA) and speech deepfake (DF) partitions of the ASVspoof 2021 challenge \cite{yamagishi21}. Both partitions contain spoofed audio generated by speech synthesis or voice conversion methods, with clean speech derived from the VCTK corpus \cite{yamagishi12}. The 2021 challenge only considered evaluation data, so the ASVspoof 2019 \cite{todisco19} LA train and dev sets were used for training. Each set contains about 25K utterances from 20 and 10 speakers, respectively. The 2021 LA and DF sets are similar to the 2019 LA data, but they consider more challenging scenarios. The LA set contains about 180K utterances of speech transmitted through real telephonic systems at different bandwidths and with different codecs. The DF set includes about 600K utterances of speech processed with various commercial audio codecs. Moreover, this set considers clean speech from other databases, making it more challenging.
\subsection{Data augmentation techniques}
\label{subsec:data_aug}
In order to improve the performance of our approach and to adapt it to the different scenarios, we considered the use of data augmentation techniques to be applied \textit{on the fly} during the training step. The main augmentation technique evaluated corresponded to the use of low-pass finite impulse response (FIR) filters on the speech signals. This procedure has shown its success for ASVspoof 2021 LA and DF tracks \cite{tomilov21} as it emulates the effects of transmission artifacts and codecs. Moreover, they act by masking frequencies in the speech signal, improving the generalization capabilities of LA detection systems. Thus, they can be also useful for the conditions presented in the ADD database. In addition, they are directly applied to the raw waveform, making them compatible with the W2V2 network. We evaluated both narrowband (NB) and wideband (WB) FIR filters, following a similar procedure to that presented in \cite{tomilov21}.
For the ADD challenge, we joined the train and corresponding adaptation set of each track to improve the model generalization on the new challenging conditions. Although they are scarce, the adaptation data can be helpful for the W2V2-based system to be adapted to the corresponding scenario. Furthermore, for track 2 we also considered the generation of new partially fake audios. To this end, 20\% of the genuine utterances in the train/dev set were randomly selected at each epoch. For each of these utterances, we selected a segment of variable duration, shorter than the original audio, from a different utterance (genuine or spoof) within the corresponding set. The segment was then overlapped over the original utterance in a random position.
\subsection{Training setup}
The models were trained using the Adam optimizer \cite{kingma15} with the default learning rate and a dropout of 0.2. During training, the W2V2 parameters were frozen, and only the classifier parameters were updated. A mini-batch of 8 utterances was used, and the parameters were updated every 8 iterations. At each epoch, the model was evaluated using the corresponding dev set, keeping the model with the lowest loss. The training stopped after 10 epochs without improvements on the dev set.
\section{Results}
\label{sec:res}
In this section, we describe the results obtained for our proposal and its different configurations in both ASVspoof 2021 and 2022 ADD challenges. The different systems were evaluated and compared in terms of equal error rate (EER), which is the most common metric used in biometric applications.
\subsection{Results on ADD challenge}
Table~\ref{table:add_res} shows the results obtained for tracks 1 and 2 of the ADD challenge. Our approach is evaluated in terms of the W2V2 model and data augmentation techniques, as well as the ADD data sets used for training. The XLS-128 model shows better results in general, but the main improvements come from the use of adaptation data along with the train set. The use of a small portion of data with similar conditions to the test set helps the model to adapt better to the scenario evaluated, reducing EER drastically. Moreover, in track 2 we generated more adaptation data through the partial fake augmentation strategy described in Subsection~\ref{subsec:data_aug}, increasing even further the model discrimination capabilities. Finally, we explored the use of NB FIR filters to increase the robustness under low-quality and partial fake conditions. This strategy reduced the EER by about 1\% in both tracks and combined with the previous ones, it achieved the best results. Thus, this demonstrates that the FIR-based strategy is not only useful to emulate telephonic or codec conditions \cite{tomilov21}, but also helps to train better antispoofing systems in challenging conditions.
\begin{table}[!t]
\caption{Final results in terms of EER (\%) of our submitted approaches to the ADD 2022 challenge. It also includes different variants for the W2V2 model and the data augmentation (DA) and adaptation strategies.}
\label{table:add_res}
\centering
\vspace{1em}
\resizebox{0.9\linewidth}{!}{
\begin{tabular}{lllcc}
\toprule
\textbf{W2V2} & \textbf{Sets} & \textbf{DA} & \textbf{Track1} & \textbf{Track2} \\
\midrule
\multirow{2}*{XLS-53} & Train & - & 32.96 & 38.09 \\
& Tr.+Adap. & - & 23.70 & 33.73 \\
\midrule
\multirow{5}*{XLS-128} & Train & - & 32.20 & 45.88 \\
& Tr.+Adap. & - & 22.62 & 30.35 \\
& Tr.+Adap. & FIR & \textbf{21.71} & - \\
& Tr.+Adap. & partial & - & 17.58 \\
& Tr.+Adap. & FIR+part. & - & \textbf{16.59} \\
\bottomrule
\end{tabular}
}
\end{table}
\subsection{Results on ASVspoof 2021}
\begin{table}[!t]
\caption{EER (\%) results of our proposed W2V2 approach on ASVspoof 2021, considering different pre-trained models and FIR-based data augmentation strategies.}
\label{table:asv21_ours}
\centering
\vspace{1em}
\resizebox{0.9\linewidth}{!}{
\begin{tabular}{llcc}
\toprule
\textbf{W2V2 model} & \textbf{Data augmentation} & \textbf{LA} & \textbf{DF} \\
\midrule
\multirow{3}*{XLS-53} & - & 8.87 & 7.71 \\
& FIR-NB & 4.34 & 11.27 \\
& FIR-WB & 4.98 & 6.99 \\
\midrule
\multirow{3}*{XLS-128} & - & 7.20 & 5.68 \\
& FIR-NB & \textbf{3.54} & 6.18 \\
& FIR-WB & 7.08 & \textbf{4.98} \\
\bottomrule
\end{tabular}
}
\end{table}
Table~\ref{table:asv21_ours} shows the results obtained for our approach in the LA and DF tracks of the ASVspoof21 database. We experimented with different combinations of W2V2 pre-trained models and low-pass FIR-based data augmentations, both NB and WB filters. Again, the XLS-128 model performs the best in both partitions. Furthermore, the FIR-based augmentations help to improve the discrimination capabilities of our proposal. Particularly, the NB filters are useful for LA scenarios as they emulate traditional telephonic systems, while the DF is more favored by the WB filters. WB filters emulate general audio codecs as the ones in the DF set.
In addition, in Table~\ref{table:asv21_comp} we compare our approach with other systems in this challenge. As it is shown, our approach outperforms other methods in the DF set and achieves competitive results in LA track, despite being a single system (not an ensemble of classifiers). The W2V2 features show robustness to the varied speech content in the DF set, allowing to highly reduce EER compared to other systems. On the other hand, compared with \cite{wang21}, our approach exploits the representations of the different transformer layers, allowing comparative results while using a simpler downstream model. Moreover, the classifier can be effectively adapted using data augmentations techniques, while the W2V2 pre-trained model remains as a general feature extractor. It can be interesting in practical applications to save computational resources.
Finally, \figurename{~\ref{fig:alpha}} draws the value of the weights $\alpha_l$ for our best systems in the tracks of ADD 2022 and ASVspoof21 challenges. As it can be observed, the classifier uses the information from the different transformer layers to detect spoofed audio, using different layer weights depending on the scenario considered.
\begin{table}[!t]
\caption{Comparative EER (\%) results of our proposed method with participant systems in the ASVspoof 2021 challenge and other self-supervised approaches.}
\label{table:asv21_comp}
\centering
\vspace{1em}
\resizebox{0.9\linewidth}{!}{
\begin{tabular}{lcc}
\toprule
\textbf{System} & \textbf{LA} & \textbf{DF} \\
\midrule
LCNN+ResNet+RawNet \cite{tomilov21} & \textbf{1.32} & 15.64 \\
GMM+LCNN (Ensemble) \cite{das21} & 3.62 & 18.30 \\
ECAPA-TDNN (Ensemble) \cite{chen21asv} & 5.46 & 20.33 \\
ResNet (Ensemble) \cite{chen21pin} & 3.21 & 16.05 \\
W2V2 (fixed)+LCNN+BLSTM \cite{wang21} & 10.97 & 7.14 \\
W2V2 (finetuned)+LCNN+BLSTM \cite{wang21} & 7.18 & 5.44 \\
\midrule
\textit{Proposed system} & 3.54 & \textbf{4.98} \\
\bottomrule
\end{tabular}
}
\end{table}
\begin{figure}[!t]
\centering
\includegraphics[width=\linewidth]{weights.pdf}
\caption{Visualization of the weight values $\alpha_l$ for our best-proposed approach at each challenge and track.}
\label{fig:alpha}
\end{figure}
\section{Conclusion}
\label{sec:conclusions}
In this work, we have presented our proposed system for the 2022 ADD challenge, which is based on the pre-trained W2V2 self-supervised architecture. Our approach exploits the contextualized representations at the different transformer layers in a finetuned classification model to detect spoofed speech. While the W2V2 model remains general, we adapted the downstream network to each scenario through data augmentation techniques and adaptation data. Our proposed method shows competitive results in both the ASVspoof 2021 and 2022 ADD challenges, which represent challenging realistic scenarios with synthesized spoofed audio. Thus, our system ranked first and fourth position in tracks 1 and 2 of 2022 ADD challenge, respectively. As future work, we will test other self-supervised models as well as additional data augmentation techniques.
\vfill\pagebreak
\bibliographystyle{IEEEbib}
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\section{Introduction}
Electrochromic materials change their optical properties by insertion/extraction of charges. These changes can be used to develop electrochromic devices (ECD) with diverse applications such as touch screens, sunglasses, smart windows, among others \cite{wwu18a}. Electrochromic devices are constructed of at least five layers in a pile arrangement supported by a transparent substrate. The lowest and topmost layers are composed of transparent conductors that are used as electrical contacts. The second and fourth layers are made of electrochromic electrodes and in the middle an either solid or liquid/gel electrolyte working as ionic conductor. An applied electric field drives ions into the electrode matrix, resulting in changes in optical properties \cite{pyang16a}.
The electrochromic layers can be composed of viologens, conducting polymers, metal coordination complexes, or transition metal oxides (TMO) \cite{wwu18a,pmsmonk07a}. Among these, TMO have reached a prominent place due to their superior electrochromic properties. Typical TMO used in the fabrication of ECD are WO$_3$, MoO$_3$, TiO$_2$, Nb$_2$O$_5$, NiO, IrO, V$_2$O$_5$, FeO, CoO, MnO, and Ta$_2$O$_5$. Their general structure can be understood in terms of metal-O$_6$ octahedra arranged in corner- and edge-sharing configurations \cite{pmsmonk07a}. Tungsten, molybdenum, nickel, and iridium oxides exhibit the largest coloration efficiencies. From these, WO$_3$ is one of the most studied oxides with a band gap of 2.6 eV and displaying the largest coloration efficiency known so far ($CE$=118 cm$^2$/A$\cdot$s at 633 nm) \cite{pmsmonk07a}. NiO is another material that has attracted the attention of the scientific community due to its low cost, null toxicity, and respectable coloration efficiency ($CE$=42 cm$^2$/A$\cdot$s at 550 nm) \cite{gatak17a,lliu19a}. This compound has a wide band gap around 4.0 eV, is crystalline with cubic structure, and behaves as a p-type semiconductor. Electrochromic layers of these materials can be grown with several deposition techniques such as chemical bath deposition \cite{mahurtado08,xhxia08}, spin coating \cite{ista14,aaghmadi09}, sol-gel method \cite{amsolei13,amsolei12}, pulsed laser deposition \cite{yhe19a}, spray pyrolysis \cite{khabass15,raismail13}, electron beam evaporation \cite{hmoulki14a,spereira14a}, and radio frequency and direct current magnetron sputtering \cite{yabe12,hlchen12,mguziewicz12,amreddy11}. ECD based on WO$_3$ and NiO films combined with other TMO can exhibit higher electrochromic properties than those of the individual oxides, making them of the utmost importance for the fabrication of ECD \cite{ganiklasson07}.
The improvements in the development of ECD have been mainly based on heuristic methodologies and a myriad of clever ideas \cite{wwu18a,granqvist18}. Surprisingly, the changes in the optical properties are still not well understood. The understanding of electrochromism in WO$_3$ has been developed along two lines of thought. The most popular approach is based on polaron theory. In this case, the change in the optical properties is caused by photon-induced polaron hops between tungsten cations in various oxidation states. The mobility and formation of polarons in the presence of both oxygen vacancies and lithium intercalation for the cubic and monoclinic structures of WO$_3$ have been investigated \cite{ebroclwik06a,nbondarenko15}. This mechanism explains well the infrared absorption but fails in the visible and ultraviolet regions \cite{granqvist93}. Moreover, it has been shown that small polarons in these crystalline phases are unstable \cite{wwang16}. The other approach addresses the phenomenon in terms of band theory \cite{cggranqvist95}. It is assumed that electrons injected through a cathodic electrode occupy new levels at the bottom of the conduction band. These electrons fill the empty states in this band and optical absorption can be seen as a transition between unoccupied and occupied states in the conduction band. Most work following this path has been focused on studying the structural, electronic, and optical properties for the cubic and hexagonal phases using density functional theory (DFT) \cite{ahjelm96a,bingham05,amahmoudi16a,cyang14,cyang16}. The results shed some light on the effect of Li intercalation on the optical properties of WO$_3$, however these crystalline structures are not the most common structures found in ECD. During the construction of ECD, WO$_3$ is usually deposited at room temperature to avoid diffusion effects among layers and therefore the most stable phases are amorphous and monoclinic \cite{gatak17a,xsong15,atak18,qliu18}. The cubic is unstable at normal conditions \cite{crichton03} while the hexagonal phase may show up as a metastable phase or as an admixture of monoclinic and hexagonal phases in thin films \cite{hawriedt89a,tnanba89a,tvogt99a,krlocherer99a}. The effect of alkali-metal insertion on the electronic band gap of monoclinic WO$_3$ was investigated in the context of photocatalysis using DFT with a hybrid functional B3LYP \cite{stosoni14}, unfortunately, the optical properties were not addressed here. Hence, so far, ab-initio investigations on the optical properties have only focused on both the undoped phases \cite{yping13} of monoclinic WO$_3$ and doped phases within the context of polaron theory. In this work we delve into the optical properties of monoclinic WO$_3$ with Li insertion within the context of band theory.
On the other hand, NiO is a typical strongly correlated material that has been extensively studied in the literature both theoretically and experimentally \cite{vianisimov91a,ftran06a,gasawaztky84,cykuo17a}. The effect of lithium doping on the electronic structure of NiO was investigated with ab-initio methods using several levels of theory such as hybrid functionals, DFT+$U$, and DFT plus dynamical mean field theory \cite{yhe19a,hchen12,wrobel20}. It was found that Li substitutional doping creates new states in the conduction band which in turn impacts the band gap size. Yet, within the context of electrochromism, it is believed that Li is incorporated into the interstices of the matrix \cite{cggranqvist95}, a matter that, to our knowledge, has not been addressed so far in the literature of this compound. Therefore a research tackling this aspect is of great relevance for the development of NiO-based ECD.
To fill these theoretical gaps we perform ab-initio calculations based on DFT for monoclinic WO$_3$ and NiO with and without Li insertion and compare our results with the cubic and hexagonal phases of WO$_3$. Both the density of states and band structure are computed in the context of the DFT+$U$ approximation. To assess the influence of Li insertion on the optical properties of these systems, the dielectric function and absorption coefficient are reckoned. We found that Li insertion not only expands the unit cells but also transforms the materials from a semiconductor to a metallic-like material. Absorption of the undoped systems is enhanced in the infrared and visible regions by Li insertion due to intraband transitions. We think that the findings of this research are valuable for a better understanding of electrochromism that can be helpful for the design of ECD.
For the purpose of this research, the article is organized as follows. In section \ref{sec2}, the outline of the theoretical methodology is given. Section \ref{sec3} describes the results of the electronic structure through the spin-polarized density of states and band structure, and discusses the optical properties; paying special attention to the dielectric tensor and the absorption coefficient. In section \ref{sec4} we give our conclusions.
\section{Theoretical methods}
\label{sec2}
\subsection{Computational Methodology}
NiO can crystallize in rhombohedral, monoclinic, and cubic structures \cite{neumann84,gaslack60,yshimomura56}; however, in the fabrication of ECD only the cubic phase has been reported in the literature \cite{pmsmonk07a,gatak17a,hmoulki14a,spereira14a} and for this reason we constraint ourselves to discuss this phase. The cubic phase of NiO is antiferromagnetic (AFM) with a rock-salt structure and space group $Fm\bar{3}m$ but taking into account the antiferromagnetic order along the [111] direction, the symmetry is lowered to rhombohedral one with space group $R\bar{3}m$. This leaves two inequivalent atoms, Ni1 and Ni2, for spin-polarized calculations. The spin orientation for these atoms is set to 'up' and 'down', respectively (see Figure \ref{NiO}).
\begin{figure}[t!]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=8.7cm]{fig1}
\caption{Crystal structures of NiO. Cubic (left), pristine antiferromagnetic (right-upper) and Li-doped antiferromagnetic (right-lower). Red arrows indicate spin-polarization orientation for each nickel atom. The position of the dopant is also given. Atomic structure visualization provided by
the Xcrysden software package \cite{kokalj99}}
\label{NiO}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
WO$_3$ exhibits polymorphism as a function of temperature, however, to avoid diffusion effects, WO$_3$ in ECD is deposited at room temperature. At this temperature the most stable crystalline phase is $\gamma-$WO$_3$ whose symmetry is $P2_1/n$. Another room temperature phase of WO$_3$ is a metastable phase that crystallizes in hexagonal structure with symmetry group $P6/mmm$. This structure commonly appears in thin films and therefore is of appreciable interest for this research. As a reference we also consider the cubic phase (see Figure \ref{WO3struct}).
Intercalation of alkali metals in TMO leads to complicated structural transitions that largely depend on the dopant concentration $x$. For instance, during Li insertion in WO$_3$, the cell expands, while, during Li extraction, the cell contracts. It has been reported that for $x> 0.1$, Li$_x$WO$_3$ undergoes a sequence of structural transitions, namely: monoclinic$\rightarrow$tetragonal$\rightarrow$cubic \cite{pmsmonk07a,qzhong92,bingham05}. Thus, to avoid structural transitions and study the effect of Li insertion on the optical properties of the four systems, we keep $x<0.083$ by adding one single lithium atom to the parent lattice. For the simulation of Li in the interstices of NiO and the hexagonal structure of WO$_3$, we use a $2\times1\times1$ supercell with 12 ($x=0.083$) and 16 atoms ($x=0.062$), respectively. For the cubic phase of WO$_3$ we use a $2\times2\times1$ supercell with 16 atoms ($x=0.062$), and for the monoclinic structure a 32-atom cell ($x=0.031$). For the sake of simplicity we shall call the doped systems as: LiNiO and cubic, hexagonal, and monoclinic LiWO$_3$.
\begin{figure}[t!]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=9cm]{fig2}
\caption{Crystal structures of WO$_3$: cubic (a,b); hexagonal (c,d), and monoclinic (e,f). Left column: pristine structures. Right column: Li-doped structures. The position of the dopant within the supercell is indicated in parenthesis. Atomic structure visualization provided by
the Xcrysden software package \cite{kokalj99}}
\label{WO3struct}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
Calculations are carried out within the context of DFT using the full-potential linearized augmented plane wave plus localized orbitals (FP-LAPW+lo) method as implemented in \textsc{wien2k} code \cite{pblaha20a}. For the exchange correlation functional, we employ the Perdew-Burke-Ernzerhof approximation \cite{jpperdew96a} alongside a self-interaction correction variant in the generalized gradient approximation (GGA)+$U$ for both cases: undoped and doped systems. The effective potential $U_{\textrm{eff}}=U-J$, where $U$ is the on-site Hubbard parameter and $J$ the Hund coupling, is applied to the Ni $3d$ and W $5d$ states. The values of $U_{\textrm{eff}}$ for the systems are assigned as follows. NiO is a well-known system whose typical value is 7 eV and this same value was used for LiNiO \cite{vianisimov91a,ftran06a}. For the pure systems of WO$_3$ we employ the method adopted by Bondarenko et al. \cite{bondarenko14}. We vary the value of $U_{\textrm{eff}}$ from 0 eV to 14 eV and seek for the values that better account for the equilibrium structural parameters and the band gap. These same values are used for the corresponding doped systems (see Table \ref{rmtu}). The reciprocal space integrations for the pure systems are realized with 1000 k-points in the full Brillouin zone (FBZ) using the tetrahedron method. For the doped systems we used 100, 120, 250, and 100 k-points in the FBZ for LiNiO, cubic, hexagonal, and monoclinic LiWO$_3$, respectively. The cut-off energy between core and valence states is set to $-6$ Ry for all systems. The radii of the muffin tin (R$_{MT}$) spheres for the atoms are chosen so that the neighbouring spheres are nearly touching. The selection of these radii allows us to avoid any charge leakage (see Table \ref{rmtu}).
\begin{table}[b!]
\centering
\caption{Parameters for the systems. Crystal system, space group, radius of the muffin tin sphere ($R_{MT}$ in atomic units) and effective potential ($U_{\text{eff}}$ in eV).}
\label{rmtu}
\begin{tabular}{cc|cccc|c}
\hline \hline
System & Space & \multicolumn{4}{c|}{$R_{MT}$} & $U_{\textrm{eff}}$ \\
& Group & O & Ni & W & Li & \\ \hline
NiO& $R\bar{3}m$ & 1.7 & 1.9 & ---& --- & 7.0 \\
LiNiO & $R\bar{3}m$ & 1.7 & 1.9 & --- & 1.35 & 7.0 \\ \hline
WO$_3$& $Pm\bar{3}m$ & 1.5 & --- & 1.7 & --- & 12.0 \\
LiWO$_3$ & $Pm\bar{3}m$ & 1.5 &--- & 1.7 & 1.35 & 12.0\\
\hline
WO$_3$ & $P6/mmm$ & 1.5 &--- & 1.7 & --- & 7.0 \\
LiWO$_3$ & $P6/mmm$ & 1.5 & --- & 1.7 & 1.35 & 7.0 \\ \hline
WO$_3$ & $P2_1/n$ & 1.5 &--- & 1.7 & --- & 7.0\\
LiWO$_3$ &$P2_1/n$ & 1.5 &--- & 1.7 & 1.35 & 7.0 \\ \hline
\end{tabular}
\end{table}
For the expansion of the basis set, we set the product of the smallest of the atomic sphere radii $R_{MT}$ and the plane wave cutoff parameter $K_{max}$ to $RK_{max}$= 7. During the self-consistent field cycle the energy convergence is less than 100 $\mu$Ry/unit cell with a force convergence of 1 mRy/Bohr. For higher resolution in the computation of both electronic and optical properties, the size of the k-point grid is increased. For pure monoclinic WO$_3$ the grid is set to 4000 k-points and to 8000 k-points for the rest of the pristine systems. For the Li-doped systems we use grids of 500 k-points, for all systems.
Lithium positions are chosen based on several considerations. Firstly, large enough cavities to allocate the Li atom must be available in the unit cell. The cavity size should guarantee no overlapping of atomic spheres (and thus charge leaking) since the R$_{MT}$ values are critical, particularly during the optimization process. Secondly, the incorporation of the atom should respect the lattice symmetry and structural stability. This is achieved by keeping the doping concentration relatively low \cite{qzhong92,bingham05}. The structural stability is assessed by computing the enthalpy of formation which, for the ground state at zero pressure ignoring zero-point contributions, is equal to the energy of formation \cite{amahmoudi16a}. These conditions greatly reduce the number of available sites for insertion.
The larger cavities for the cubic and monoclinic phases of WO$_3$ are found at the center of the cell and at the center of the six faces. The hexagonal structure can host large metal atoms in hexagonal and trigonal cavities. For the sake of analysis, we carry out the calculations placing the Li atom in only one of the several large cavities for each system (note that the values reported are those after optimization). In the case of LiNiO, the Li atom is placed at (0, 0, 0.0975) in the rhombohedral cell. For the cubic phase of LiWO$_3$ the atom is incorporated at the center of one of the supercell units at (0.2499, 1/4, 1/2). For the hexagonal phase of LiWO$_3$ we used a trigonal cavity in the plane of the apical oxygen atoms at (0.3321, 0.6679, 1/2). In the case of the monoclinic phase of LiWO$_3$, the dopant is located at the center of the cell (see Figure \ref{NiO} and \ref{WO3struct} for illustration). The initial lattice parameters for the pure structures are taken from the literature \cite{hawriedt89a,tnanba89a,tvogt99a,krlocherer99a,wyckoff63}. For structure relaxation, we first carry out lattice optimization and then the internal coordinates are relaxed. We repeat this procedure twice and check convergence. All atoms are fully relaxed up to 1 mRy/Bohr Hellman-Feynman forces. The optimized lattice parameters are given in Table \ref{tablestruct}.
\subsection{Optical Theory}
\label{optteo}
The understanding of the optical properties is vital for the development of absorbing and reflective electrochromic devices. We have used the electronic structure calculations to compute the complex dielectric tensor $\varepsilon_{ij}$ and the absorption coefficient $\alpha$, using the program \textsc{optic} implemented in the \textsc{wien2k} code. The theory departs from the Linhard dielectric function in the random phase approximation \cite{cambrosch06a}:
\begin{equation}
\varepsilon(q,\omega)=1+\frac{2\Phi(q)}{\Omega_c}\sum_k\frac{f_l(\epsilon_{k+q})-f_l(\epsilon_{k})}{\epsilon_{k+q}-\epsilon_{k}-\hbar \omega};
\label{dieconst1}
\end{equation}
where $\Phi(q)=\frac{4\pi e^2}{q^2}$ is the Coulomb interaction, $q$ is the wavenumber vector, $\omega$ is the angular frequency, $\Omega_c$ the unit cell volume, $f_l$ the Fermi distribution function, $\epsilon_k$ the single particle energy and $\hbar$ is the reduced Planck constant. The 2 comes from the summation over spins. The dielectric function in the lattice space becomes a complex symmetric tensor $\varepsilon_{ij}(\omega)$ with contributions from both intraband and interband transitions (It is stressed that in this theory only direct transitions are taken into account). From the imaginary part [$\varepsilon_2(\omega)$] the corresponding real part [$\varepsilon_1(\omega)$] can be obtained by the Kramers-Kronig relations
\begin{equation}
\varepsilon_1(\omega)=1+\frac{2}{\pi}\mathcal{P}\int_0^\infty\frac{\omega'\varepsilon_2(\omega')}{\omega'^2-\omega^2}d\omega',
\label{kkr}
\end{equation}
where $\mathcal{P}$ indicates the principal part of the integral. With this information one can compute all other optical properties. The reflectivity at normal incidence is given by
\begin{equation}
R(\omega)=\frac{(\textrm{n}-1)^2+\textrm{k}^2}{(\textrm{n}+1)^2+\textrm{k}^2};
\label{rii}
\end{equation}
with n and k being the real and imaginary part of the complex refractive index ($\tilde{\textrm{n}}$=n$+i$k) whose components are the refractive index and extinction coefficient given by:
\begin{equation}
\textrm{n}(\omega)=\sqrt{\frac{|\varepsilon(\omega)|+\varepsilon_1(\omega)}{2}},
\label{nii}
\end{equation}
\begin{equation}
\textrm{k}(\omega)=\sqrt{\frac{|\varepsilon(\omega)|-\varepsilon_1(\omega)}{2}}.
\label{kii}
\end{equation}
The absorption coefficient is related to the extinction coefficient by the following relation:
\begin{equation}
\alpha(\omega)=\frac{2\omega \textrm{k}(\omega)}{c}.
\label{alphaii}
\end{equation}
This parameter plays a key role in understanding the relationship between the electronic structure and the optical properties as we discuss below. Lastly, the effective number of electrons per atom $N_{eff}$ partaking in the absorption process as a function of energy can be determined from the following sum rule:
\begin{equation}
\int_0^{\omega'}\omega \varepsilon_2(\omega) d\omega =N_{eff}(\omega').
\label{sumr}
\end{equation}
\section{Results and Discussion}
\label{sec3}
\subsection{Atomic Structure}
To check structure stability, the formation energies per atom for the doped systems are reckoned. The results for LiNiO, cubic, hexagonal, and monoclinic LiWO$_3$ are: $-13.255$ eV, $-9.375$ eV, $-3.733$ eV, and $-5.398$ eV, respectively. These findings indicate that all structures are stable. We stress that small variations in position of the dopant atom do not affect significantly the energy of formation.
\begin{table*}[t!]
\begin{center}
\caption{Cell parameters (in \AA$\;$ and $^{\circ}$) compared to other experimental and calculated results. Values reported from references \cite{qzhong92,nbondarenko15,ahjelm96a,bingham05,cyang14,stosoni14,hchen12,ddong18}. Parameters are given after structure relaxation.}
\label{tablestruct}
\begin{tabular}{ccccc}
\hline \hline
System & Lattice &This & Experimental [Ref.]& Calculated [Ref.] \\
& Parameter &Work & &\\ \hline \hline
NiO & $a$ & 4.1933 & 4.18 \cite{hchen12}&4.20 \cite{hchen12}\\ \hline
LiNiO & $a$ & 4.3935 & 4.236 (4\% Li) \cite{ddong18} &---\\ \hline
Cubic WO$_3$ & $a$ & 3.7327 &3.78 \cite{ahjelm96a}, 3.8144 \cite{bingham05} &3.84 \cite{ahjelm96a}, 3.74 \cite{bingham05}\\ \hline
Cubic LiWO$_3$ & $a$ & 3.749& 3.729 \cite{qzhong92}, 3.71 \cite{ahjelm96a} &3.88 \cite{ahjelm96a} \\ \hline
Hexagonal & $a$ & 7.2955 & 7.298 \cite{bingham05} & 7.4103 \cite{bingham05}, 7.453 \cite{cyang14} \\
WO$_3$ & $c$ & 3.8976 & 3.899 &3.8144 \cite{bingham05}, 3.833 \cite{cyang14} \\ \hline
Hexagonal & $a$ & 7.4619 &7.405 \cite{bingham05} & 7.4007 \cite{bingham05}, 7.471 \cite{cyang14}\\
LiWO$_3$ & $c$ & 3.9866 & 3.777 & 3.8219 \cite{bingham05}, 3.841 \cite{cyang14} \\ \hline
& $a$ & 7.3035 &7.306 \cite{qzhong92} & 7.34 \cite{nbondarenko15}, 7.44 \cite{stosoni14}\\
Monoclinic & $b$ & 7.5374 & 7.540 & 7.58 \cite{nbondarenko15}, 7.73 \cite{stosoni14}\\
WO$_3$ & $c$ & 7.6893 &7.692 & 7.73 \cite{nbondarenko15}, 7.91 \cite{stosoni14} \\
& $\beta$ & 90.88 & 90.881 & 90.89 \cite{nbondarenko15}, 90.2 \cite{stosoni14}\\ \hline
& $a$ & 7.4701 & 7.310 \cite{qzhong92} & 7.46 \cite{stosoni14} \\
Monoclinic & $b$ & 7.7093 & 7.540 &7.62 \\
LiWO$_3$ & $c$ & 7.8648 & 7.695 & 7.96 \\
& $\beta$ & 90.881 & 90.881& 90.3\\ \hline \hline
\end{tabular}
\end{center}
\end{table*}
Table \ref{tablestruct} shows the results for the relaxed parameters of our systems in comparison to previous experimental and theoretical work. For the case of LiNiO, the cell size increased about 5\% with respect to the undoped oxide. It is worth noting that the value of our lattice parameter is larger than the experimental one \cite{ddong18}. This can be attributed to the difference in doping levels. In the experimental report, the lithium concentration is 4\% while in this work a concentration of 8.3\% is used, which is more than double. Since, the concentration is larger one would expect a larger cell. For WO$_3$, one observes, in all cases, as expected, an increase in cell size of 4\%, 2.3 \%, and 2.3\% for cubic, hexagonal, and monoclinic, respectively. If we compare our results with those in the literature, we note that for the cubic phase there are discrepancies in both the experimental and theoretical values, although they are comparable \cite{qzhong92,ahjelm96a,bingham05}. The agreement of our results with experimental values is excellent for the pure hexagonal and monoclinic phases \cite{qzhong92,bingham05}; while other theoretical works found values slightly higher than ours \cite{ahjelm96a,bingham05,cyang14,stosoni14}. For the doped hexagonal and monoclinic phases, the agreement is fair with one theoretical report \cite{cyang14,stosoni14}, although slightly larger than the experimental value \cite{qzhong92}.
\subsection{Electronic properties of NiO and LiNiO}
The electrochromic properties in ECD are determined by the transport and optical properties of the electrochromic material \cite{gatak17a,cggranqvist95}. In particular, the colouring and bleaching processes are linked to the absorption of the TMO which strongly depends on the magnitude of the energy gap. From Table \ref{tablestruct} we just have concluded that the lattice parameters for the doped structures are larger than those for the pristine structures. This indicates that Li insertion exerts pressure on the initial atomic positions, deforming and expanding the lattice; such structural changes then affect the electronic structure and consequently the optical response of the systems \cite{bingham05,stosoni14}. It is therefore important to delve into the electronic properties and analyze how the optical properties are influenced by Li intercalation.
NiO is considered a classical Mott insulator with localized $3d$ electrons causing strong correlation effects. It can be hole doped for instance through substitutional doping or Ni deficiency and it can be electron doped by interstitial doping usually with an alkali metal. Figure \ref{LINIONIO} shows the total and partial density of states (DOS) of NiO and LiNiO. The Fermi level ($E_F$) is denoted by the vertical dashed line that separates the valence band (VB) from the conduction band (CB). The DOS of NiO for both spin channels is symmetric and for this reason the DOS for minority spin is not shown. Accordingly, the band gap ($E_g$) for NiO is about 3.4 eV slightly lower than the experimental value (3.8-4.2 eV) \cite{gasawaztky84}. The whole spectrum is mainly dominated by Ni $3d$ states, except for the interval from -2 eV to $E_F$ where the O $2p$ states are more intense. Ni $4s$ states have a negligible contribution and are not shown. The prominent feature observed in the CB is located around 5 eV above the Fermi level and is dominated by Ni $3d$ states.
\begin{figure}[t!]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=9cm]{fig3}
\caption{Total and projected density of states of NiO and LiNiO. Vertical dashed line represents the Fermi level}
\label{LINIONIO}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
When Li is present, the symmetry for both spin channels is broken, turning the material a half-metallic semimetal with literally no band gap at the Fermi level \cite{coey04,katsnelson08}. There is an increment in the number of states beyond the Fermi level for both spin channels and 1.1 eV gap is seen only for the spin-down channel, 0.1 eV above the Fermi level. The contribution to the total DOS comes mainly from Ni $3d$ and O $2p$ states (4$s$ states are not shown due to imperceptible contribution). The latter dominate the regions from 4.3 eV to higher energies for both spin channels, from $-3.5$ eV to $2$ eV for the spin-up channel, and from $-3.5$ to the Fermi level for the spin-down channel. For the rest of the spectrum both spin channels exhibit Ni $3d$ character. Note that, in comparison to the DOS of NiO, the prominence of the O $2p$ states extends roughly 1.5 eV to lower energies. The contribution of Li $2s$ states is negligible and was augmented 100 times for visualization. In spite of their low occupation, it is clear that the incorporation of Li in the lattice has a significant impact on the electronic structure.
The band structure of both NiO and LiNiO for majority (up) and minority (dn) spin channels is shown in Figure \ref{bsnio}. The band structure of NiO compares well with previous studies \cite{vianisimov91a,ftran06a}. The VB maximum (VBM) is seen at the $L$ point while the CB minimum (CBM) is at the $\Gamma$ point, showing that this material is an indirect band gap semiconductor. When Li is inserted, the symmetry between the spin channels is broken revealing a band structure typical of a half-metallic semimetal. In an earlier work, ab-initio calculations of Li substitutional doping in NiO for several concentrations ($0.0125<x<0.25$) were carried out \cite{yhe19a,hchen12} and an asymmetry in both spin channels was also reported. As the Li (or hole) concentration was increased, the number of states above the Fermi level also increased, narrowing the energy gap.
\begin{figure}[t!]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=7cm]{fig4}
\caption{Band structure of NiO and of LiNiO for majority (up) and minority (dn) spin channels. Red dashed lines represent the Fermi level.}
\label{bsnio}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
For $x=0.25$, $E_g$ was heavily reduced to 0.3 eV. These results showed that by varying Li concentration, the size of the band gap can be modulated. In the present work, however, Li interstitial doping turns the material metallic-like for $x=0.083$. This finding marks a significant difference between the effects produced by substitutional and interstitial doping. In the former, a Ni$^{2+}$ cation is replaced by a Li$^{+1}$ cation which creates a hole (i.e. hole doping) and unoccupied levels of Ni are created above the Fermi level; this then reduces the size of the gap. In interstitial doping, electrons are added to the system (i.e. electron doping), this rises the Fermi level to the CB and creates occupied levels below the Fermi level, collapsing the gap.
\subsection{Electronic properties of WO$_3$ and LiWO$_3$}
\begin{figure*}[t!]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=15cm]{fig5}
\caption{Total and projected density of states of WO$_3$ (a-c) and LiWO$_3$ (d-f). Vertical dashed line represents the Fermi level. For band nomenclature see text.}
\label{dosWO3}
\end{center}
\end{figure*}
In Figure \ref{dosWO3} the total and projected DOS of WO$_3$ and LiWO$_3$ are plotted for the three crystalline structures. The dashed line also represents the Fermi level. Since all structures show a symmetric DOS for both spin channels, only one spin channel is presented. The pristine structures exhibit an energy gap that depends on the crystal symmetry. The calculated values of $E_g$ are (1.8, 1.2, 2.5) eV for cubic, hexagonal, and monoclinic, respectively. The latter is close to experimental data (2.6 eV-3.2) eV \cite{cggranqvist95,zheng11,kleperis97,koffyberg79,fzhu19}. The band gap for cubic and hexagonal structures is underestimated although it is larger than other theoretical reports that did not incorporate the self-interaction correction \cite{ahjelm96a, bingham05,amahmoudi16a}. In all cases the CB and the VB are formed by hybridization of W $5d$ and O $2p$ states, but the CB is mainly dominated by W $d$ states while the VB has O $p$ character.
Upon Li insertion all systems display a metallic character, the spectrum changes drastically shifting the Fermi level to the CB and slightly reducing the size of the band gap: an effect known as Burstein-Moss shift. This effect is typical of degenerate n-type semiconductors when the doping level is high such that the semiconductor turns into a metal. Incidentally, there is no symmetry breaking between spin up and spin down channels. At this point it is worth making a crucial clarification that will be useful for our future discussion. In semiconductors the denotations VB and CB are well understood but in metals this terminology is not appropriate since the Fermi level is in the CB which has become a partially filled band.
\begin{figure*}[t!]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=17.5cm]{fig6}
\caption{Band structure of WO$_3$ and LiWO$_3$ for the different structures. Red dashed lines represent the Fermi level.}
\label{bswo3}
\end{center}
\end{figure*}
Following the work of Xu et al. \cite{xu12a}, it is therefore more convenient to rename the bands for the doped systems: the CB is now termed the partially filled CB (PFCB), the band below this one is the highest fully occupied band (B$_{-1}$), and the band above is the lowest unoccupied band ($B_1$). Under this nomenclature the W $5d$ states dominate both the PFCB and the $B_1$, whereas the B$_{-1}$ presents O $2p$ character and a remarkable increment, compared to the pure phases, in the number of states. For the sake of visualization, the Li $2s$ states have been augmented 100 times. These states lay beyond the Fermi level higher than the W $5d$ states. This can be explained if we keep in mind that the $2s$ level of atomic Li is higher in energy than the $5d$ level of atomic W and thus one would expect that the W $5d$ states lay closer to the Fermi level. The position of the Li $2s$ states also helps us elucidate the role played by the Li atom. Since such states lay beyond the Fermi level the corresponding valence electrons enter the PFCB (more precisely the $t_{2g}$ conduction band) thus leaving the Li atom in an ionized state \cite{bullett83}. This scenario reveals that Li insertion provides itinerant electrons to the system, in agreement with the metallic character reported in experiments \cite{green96,kyoshimatsu17}. Therefore, the transition to metallic is anew due to the injection of electrons to the system (electron doping) \cite{fzhu19,wwang17,walkingshaw04}.
The band structure for WO$_3$ and LiWO$_3$ is presented in Figure \ref{bswo3}. Starting with the pure phases we see that the monoclinic phase shows more flat bands in comparison to the cubic and hexagonal phases in agreement with the shapes of the corresponding DOS. One of the most conspicuous features spotted in these graphs is the different nature of the band gap. The CBM for both the cubic and hexagonal structures is at the $\Gamma$-point and the VBM is at the M-point and A-point, respectively; making these materials indirect band gap semiconductors. On the other hand, the VBM and the CBM for the monoclinic phase are at the $\Gamma$-point, revealing an direct band gap. Since the same exchange-correlation functional was used for the three structures, such differences can only be attributed to the crystal symmetry. Bear in mind that the cubic symmetry is not found at normal conditions, however, the hexagonal and monoclinic are routinely obtained in the fabrication of ECD. From this standpoint, the nature of the fundamental gap has not been resolved \cite{zheng11,kleperis97,koffyberg79,green93}. As we discuss below, the monoclinic phase is highly anisotropic and the optical properties greatly vary in different directions which makes this material difficult to characterize. On the theoretical side, the use of different functionals in the monoclinic phase has led to dissimilar predictions although the energy difference between direct and indirect gaps is only 0.05 eV \cite{yping13,fwang11,johansson13a}.
Insertion of Li modifies the band distribution and a considerable amount of new states emerge around the Fermi level. The $B_{-1}$ is flat and the band gaps slightly narrow. Similar to the case of LiNiO, this is due to the fact that the $2s$ level of atomic lithium is higher in energy than the $5d$ level of atomic tungsten.
\subsection{Optical Properties}
\begin{figure*}[t!]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=16cm]{fig7}
\caption{Imaginary part of $\varepsilon_{yy}$ (a,b) as a function of photon energy for all systems. Absorption coefficient $\alpha$ (c,d). Insets show absorption coefficient on a logarithmic scale.}
\label{epsilon1}
\end{center}
\end{figure*}
\subsubsection{Dielectric Response}
The optical response of materials to electromagnetic radiation is embedded in the dielectric tensor $\varepsilon_{ij}(\omega)$ which contains contributions from inter and intraband transitions. This tensor is symmetric with 6 independent components; the number of independent components depends on the symmetry under consideration. Cubic structures are highly symmetric and isotropic and only one component is independent. For the hexagonal symmetry only diagonal components appear; and for the monoclinic one the non-diagonal components can also be present \cite{cambrosch06a}. For our systems, the components $\varepsilon_{xx}$ and $\varepsilon_{yy}$ are comparable in magnitude and are the most intense of all components. The component $\varepsilon_{zz}$ in hexagonal and monoclinic symmetries is roughly half the magnitude of $\varepsilon_{xx}$; and the non-diagonal components (e.g., $\varepsilon_{xy}$) in the monoclinic structure of WO$_3$ are the least intense, about one order of magnitude smaller than the most intense ones. In addition, the imaginary part contains information related to inter and intraband transitions. Therefore, we shall focus only on the imaginary part of $\varepsilon_{yy}$ since this is the most intense in the near-infrared, visible, and ultraviolet regions for all systems.
Figure \ref{epsilon1} (a,b) reports the imaginary part of $\varepsilon_{yy}$ (denoted simply as $\varepsilon_2$) as a function of photon energy for all systems. The results for the monoclinic phase of WO$_3$ are in good agreement with earlier theoretical and experimental reports \cite{johansson13a}. The onset of the dielectric constant for the pure symmetries follows, as expected, the same sequence as the magnitude of $E_g$, that is, in first place the hexagonal phase, then cubic, monoclinic and NiO. For energies below $E_g$ there are no features, indicating that the dielectric response for the pure systems is mainly dominated by interband transitions with photon energies exceeding $E_g$. These transitions are from O $2p$ states in the VB to W $5d$ and $6s$ states and Ni $3d$ and $4s$ states in the CB for WO$_3$ and NiO, respectively. Since electrons in the undoped systems are largely localized few intraband transitions are stimulated. For the doped structures of WO$_3$, free electrons are present. In these cases we observe a prominent peak in the far- and mid-infrared regions that is attributed to intraband transitions among $d$-$d$ states, then the curves fall down close to zero in the near-infrared and visible regions. The curves rise again first for monoclinic around 2 eV followed by the cubic and hexagonal, heading all to the ultraviolet region; all of these features are attributed to interband transitions. LiNiO exhibits no features in the infrared region, an indicative that no intraband transitions occur, however, a strong peak appears at 2.1 eV along with a small shoulder at 1.5 eV that can be assigned to intraband transitions (see below). Then the intensity falls down at the end of the visible region and goes up in the ultraviolet one, suggesting that in this region interband transitions take place.
\subsubsection{Optical Absoprtion}
Having analyzed the dielectric function we now discuss its relationship with the absorption coefficient. According to section \ref{optteo} the dielectric function is related to the absorption coefficient through Equation \eqref{kii} and \eqref{alphaii}. The absorption in the visible region of the pure structures is largely dominated by the size of the energy gap. For photon energies lower than $E_g$, materials transmit most of the visible light since electrons in the VB cannot be promoted to the CB. Hence thin layers of NiO or WO$_3$ look transparent. Figure \ref{epsilon1} (c) shows that in the infrared region all systems exhibit the lowest absorption (inset shows the information in logarithmic scale for better appreciation). However, as the photon energy is increased beyond the absorption threshold, interband transitions take place. As it is pointed out above, the O 2$p$ states have a major weight in the VB close to the Fermi energy while the Ni $3d$ and W $5d$ states contribute largely to the CB and so interband transitions are allowed ($\Delta \ell =\pm1$). Note that the hexagonal phase has the highest absorption in most of the spectrum except for the region between 3 eV and 3.6 eV where is lower than the absorption of the cubic one. The absorption coefficient and the band gap are related by the well known Tauc's relation \cite{jtauc66a}:
\begin{equation}
\label{tauceq}
\alpha E=A(E-E_g)^{\eta},
\end{equation}
where $A$ is an energy independent constant, $E$ the photon energy and $\eta$ is a power factor of the transition mode whose possible values are $\frac{1}{2}$, 2, $\frac{3}{2}$, and 3 for direct allowed, indirect allowed, direct forbidden, and indirect forbidden transition, respectively. According to the band structure calculations, the value of $\eta$ is 1/2 for monoclinic WO$_3$ and 2 for the other systems. Indirect transitions require the participation of phonons, so, it is expected that direct transitions dominate the absorption process.
For the doped systems the situation is quite different. According to the DOS of LiWO$_3$, interband transitions are likely to occur from the B$_{-1}$ to the PFCB and from the PFCB to the B$_1$. In all cases, due to the Burstein-Moss shift, these transitions can only occur for photon energies larger than 2 eV. Figure \ref{epsilon1} (d) along with the inset shows that, indeed, the main absorption edge has slightly shifted to higher energies; about 0.3 eV for cubic and monoclinic structures and 0.6 eV for hexagonal symmetry, demonstrating that electronic transitions require larger excitation energies than in the pure structures. The monoclinic structure gives the largest absorption in the visible region, reaching its highest point in the blue-purple region with 2.7$\times10^5$ cm$^{-1}$. Since these systems are metallic it is expected that intraband transitions also partake in the absorption process \cite{cambrosch06a,mcazzaniga10}, particularly in the low energy region where an absorption peak appears for each structure. This feature is related to intraband transitions and agrees with previously published work within the context of polaron theory \cite{cyang14,cyang16,larsson03}.
For LiNiO the intricate nature of the band structure makes the absorption analysis more complicated due to the asymmetry in the band structure for both spin channels. Each spin channel makes asymmetric contributions to the absorption from both intra and interband transitions that makes difficult an accurate quantification. However, general trends can be drawn. In Figure \ref{epsilon1} (d) we observe that the onset of absorption has moved to lower energies and the magnitude of absorption has increased compared to that in NiO. Moreover, a prominent peak shows up at 2.1 eV reaching a maximum of 3.3$\times10^5$ cm$^{-1}$ and small shoulder at 1.5 eV. The main peak corresponds to absorption in the orangish region of the visible spectrum those transmitting a brownish color which is characteristic of the colored state of NiO. These features have been experimentally reported in Li$_x$NiO at 2.2 eV and 1.1 eV, respectively \cite{yzhang18}. Due to Li-insertion, free electrons are added to the system turning the oxide a half-metallic semimetal, so these features are associated with intraband transitions.
Lastly, Figure \ref{NefecNiOWO3} displays the number of effective electrons per formula unit during the absorption process as determined from the sum rule \eqref{sumr}. Overall, the extra electron added by the dopant fills the bottom of the conduction band and increases the Fermi level, increasing the number of electrons available for absorption.
Note that NiO provides less than 1 electron at 6 eV and LiNiO about 3.3 at this same energy. For WO$_3$, the monoclinic undoped and doped phases give a maximum at 6 eV of 10.7 and 14.4 electrons, respectively. This is followed by the cubic undoped and doped phases with 1.5 and 6 electrons. The only exception is the hexagonal structure in which there is a slight reduction of electrons with respect to the pure phase. This may be attributed to the position of the Li atom since dopants in the hexagonal lattice can be accommodated in trigonal and/or hexagonal cavities. The latter is much larger and leaves more room for electron mobility \cite{pyang16a}.
\begin{figure}[t!]
\begin{center}
\includegraphics[width=9cm]{fig8}
\caption{Number of effective electrons for absorption}
\label{NefecNiOWO3}
\end{center}
\end{figure}
\section{Summary and conclusions}
\label{sec4}
We have explored from first principles calculations using the DFT+$U$ method the electronic and optical properties of Li-doped NiO and Li-doped WO$_3$; the latter for three symmetries: cubic, hexagonal and monoclinic. The results showed that the CB for the corresponding pure systems is mainly dominated by Ni $3d$ and W 5$d$ states whereas the VB has O $2p$ character. When Li is incorporated the Fermi level shifts to higher energies turning NiO a half-metallic semimetal and WO$_3$ a metal for the three symmetries. It is concluded that Li interstitial doping injects electrons to the system, driving the material to a metallic character, even for low concentrations of less than 8.3\%. It is found that monoclinic WO$_3$ exhibits a direct band gap, while the rest of the systems an indirect one. The nature of this gap in monoclinic WO$_3$ is still controversial and more detail experimental data are required keeping in mind not only its polymorphism at room temperature but also its anisotropic nature. Regarding the dielectric response, the onset of the imaginary part of the $\varepsilon_{yy}$ component for the pristine structures is first present for the hexagonal, then cubic, monoclinic and lastly for NiO in association with the magnitude of their band gap, an indication that interband transitions have the major contribution in the visible and ultraviolet regions. The hexagonal phase of pure WO$_3$ gives the maximum absorption in most of the energy interval, followed by cubic, monoclinic and NiO. It is demonstrated that, compared to the undoped systems, doping WO$_3$ with Li has the effect of increasing the absorption in the far- and mid-infrared regions while for LiNiO the effect is in the near-infrared and visible regions. LiNiO presents low absorption in the infrared region and a broad feature in the visible region attributed to intraband transitions. These findings shed light on the changes of the optical properties of both WO$_3$ and NiO with Li intercalation and can be of great interest for the designed of optimized ECD.
\section*{CRediT Author Statement}
Israel Perez: Conceptualization, Data curation, Formal analysis,
Investigation, Validation, Visualization, Writing - original draft, Project Administration, Supervision, Funding Acquisition. Juan Carlos Mart\'inez Faudoa: Conceptualization, Formal analysis, Investigation, Methodology, Software. Juan Ruben Abenuz Acu\~na: Conceptualization, Formal analysis, Investigation, Methodology, Software. Jose Trinidad Elizalde Galindo: Supervision, Project Administration, Funding Acquisition.
\section*{Declaration of competing interests}
The authors declare that they have no known competing financial interests or personal relationships that could have appeared to influence the work reported in this paper.
\section*{Acknowledgements}
The authors thank the anonymous reviewers for critics that greatly improve the quality of this work. Funding: This work was supported by National Council of Science and Technology (CONACYT) Mexico under project 3035. We thankfully acknowledge the computer resources, technical advise, and support provided by Laboratorio Nacional de Superc\'omputo del Sureste de M\'exico (LNS), a member of the CONACYT network of national laboratories, Centro Nacional de Superc\'omputo (CNS), and Laboratorio Nacional de Inform\'atica (LANTI-UACJ). The authors are grateful to Oscar Ruiz for technical support.
\section*{Data Availability}
The raw/processed data required to reproduce these findings cannot be shared at this time as the data also forms part of an ongoing study.
\section*{References}
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Q: Can't get fresh Ubuntu server to update/upgrade I've got a fresh Ubuntu 17.04 server, I've configured networking and can resolve all addresses as I'd expect, however when I run sudo apt update I get to ~19% at which point I get a load of messages indicating failures, such as...
err http://security.ubuntu.com/ubuntu zesty-security release 404 not found [91.189.88.162 80]
and then
Repository http://security.ubuntu.com/ubuntu zesty-security does not have a release file
this is repeated several times.
All the listed URIs are reachable/resolve from terminal.
sudo apt-get upgrade
Fails with
reading package list... done
building dependency tree
reading state information... done
calculating upgrade... done
0 upgraded, 0 newely installed, 0 to remove and 0 upgraded
The problem is that without updates I can't get any other packages to install and I'm not familiar enough with linux to deal with it.
Anyone got any thoughts on why updates aren't taking?
I know I'm supposed to be on 17.10 by now but I was hoping that'd be able to be sorted with an upgrade!
A: Ubuntu 17.04, released in 2017-April (hence 17.04) came with nine months of support; 2017-04 + 9 months = 13-Jan-2018 EOL (End-Of-Life).
Sometime after EOL (no length-of-time is defined) the repos get moved from archives.ubuntu.com (where Ubuntu versions look for updates) to old-releases.ubuntu.com, so your 17.04 is looking for updates where they were.
Given it's a clean install - just use 17.10, or an LTS (long term support; five years of support) version if you don't want to upgrade often.
If you looked (eg. opened-in-a-browser) the address you specified http://security.ubuntu.com/ubuntu has artful (17.10), xenial (16.04), trusty (14.04) & other supported releases (inc. 'in-test' 18.04), but will discover the 'zesty' (17.04) & other post-EOL release folders are gone.
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Митрополит Кири́лл (в миру Константи́н Илларио́нович Смирно́в; , Кронштадт, Санкт-Петербургская губерния — 20 ноября 1937, Лисий овраг, близ Чимкента) — епископ Православной российской церкви, митрополит Казанский и Свияжский. Один из лидеров умеренного крыла оппозиции митрополиту Сергию (Страгородскому).
Причислен к лику святых Русской православной церковью заграницей в 1981 году, Русской православной церковью в 2000 году.
Образование
Родился в семье псаломщика. Окончил Александро-Невское духовное училище (1877), Санкт-Петербургскую духовную семинарию (1883) и Санкт-Петербургскую духовную академию (1887); степень кандидата богословия присуждена за работу «Никифор Феотоки и его значение в истории Русской Церкви и духовной литературы». Профессор Николай Барсов так охарактеризовал это сочинение: «По интересу содержания оно настолько ценно, что желательно было бы видеть его, после более тщательной обработки, в качестве диссертации магистерской».
Священник
Обвенчан с дочерью священника Ольгой Николаевной Азиатской.
С 15 ноября 1887 года — диакон, с 21 ноября 1887 — иерей; 7 октября 1887 года назначен законоучителем и священником домового храма Елисаветпольской гимназии Кавказского учебного округа. Награждён экзархом Грузии набедренником в знак духовного отличия 19 марта 1889 года; скуфьёй — 19 марта 1892 года.
С 20 сентября 1894 года — законоучитель во 2-й Санкт-Петербургской гимназии; настоятель храма Рождества Пресвятой Богородицы при ней — с 25 марта 1896 года. С 1897 года член Санкт-Петербургского комитета Православного миссионерского общества.
С октября 1900 года — настоятель кронштадтского Свято-Троицкого кладбищенского храма. Перевод из столицы в небольшой храм произошёл по прошению о. Константина и, возможно, был связан с желанием быть ближе к протоиерею Иоанну Кронштадтскому, с которым его связывали крепкие духовные узы (именно он после смерти св. Иоанна прибыл в Кронштадт, где отслужил по нему заупокойную литургию, произнёс надгробное слово и сопровождал гроб в Санкт-Петербург).
В 1901 году умерла дочь Ольга, случайно проглотившая иголку, а вскоре скончалась и супруга.
Миссионерская деятельность
24 апреля 1902 года назначен начальником духовной миссии в Урмии (Персия, ныне Северный Иран). 10 мая 1902 года был пострижен в монашество с именем Кирилл.
Этот состав миссии прибыл в Урмию в конце августа 1902 года и сразу приступил к деятельной работе. Прежде всего начато ежедневное богослужение в домовой миссийской церкви, к которому для обучения привлекалось сельское духовенство. Все местное православное духовенство было просеяно и выяснен статус каждого в отношении к миссии, а отдельные нечестные проходимцы были отстранены. Из знатоков классического сирийского языка организована переводческая комиссия для перевода православных богослужебных книг на сирийский язык. Организована типографская работа, и с 1903 года хорошим шрифтом начали издаваться православные издания. Православной миссией занято правильное положение в отношениях с инославными миссиями. Также налажены добрые отношения с Генеральным Консулом в Тавризе, а с 1903 года открыто в Урмии Российское Вице-Консульство, главным образом, для содействия пастве Русской миссии в этой провинции. Благодаря усердию архимандрита Кирилла и других ревнителей православия, в Петербурге осенью 1903 года организовано и в начале 1904 года зарегистрировано «Кирилло-Сергиевское Урмийское Братство», названное в честь Кирилла Словенского и Сергия Радонежского, в которое вошли товарищ обер-прокурора Святейшего Синода В. К. Саблер и некоторые другие известные и влиятельные лица. Братство находилось под покровительством Императрицы Марии Федоровны, а попечителем его был Петербургский Митрополит. В 1904 году вернулся в Санкт-Петербург.
Епископ Гдовский
6 августа 1904 года хиротонисан во епископа Гдовского, третьего (с 1905 года второго, с 1908 года первого) викария Санкт-Петербургской епархии. Хиротонию совершили митрополит Санкт-Петербургский и Ладожский Антоний (Вадковский), архиепископ Финляндский и Выборгский Николай (Налимов), епископ Владикавказский и Моздокский Владимир (Сеньковский), епископ Вологодский и Тотемский Алексий (Соболев).
С 1904 года — председатель Епархиального православного братства во имя Пресвятой Богородицы и Петербургского эстонского православного братства преподобного Исидора Юрьевского, благочинный столичных единоверческих храмов.
Был одним из ближайших сотрудников петербургского митрополита Антония (Вадковского), который и рукоположил его во священника. Отличался принципиальным характером: совершая в 1909 года Крещенское богослужение в присутствии царской семьи, отказался выполнить требование полиции и освящать кипячёную воду.
Тамбовский архиерей
С 30 декабря 1909 года — епископ Тамбовский и Шацкий, настоятель тамбовского Казанского монастыря (1909), председатель Тамбовского отдела Императорского православного палестинского общества. Проводил беседы в храмах, вводил общенародное пение во время служб, занимался благотворительностью, учредил комиссию по сокращению излишней канцелярской деятельности, за что был очень почитаем в народе. Привлёк монастыри к помощи ремесленно-воспитательному приюту для малолетних, содействовал деятельности Крестовоздвиженского братства, содержавшего Тамбовское училище слепых детей.
В 1912 году делегат I Всероссийского единоверческого съезда.
В 1913 году учредил Тамбовское просветительско-миссионерское Питиримовское братство и Церковно-археологический комитет.
6 мая 1913 года был возведён в сан архиепископа. С первых дней пребывания на Тамбовской кафедре прилагал усилия к большему распространению почитания святителя Питирима Тамбовского, поддержав идею его причисления к лику святых, активно участвовал в подготовке канонизации в 1914 году.
В 1917 году председатель VII отдела Предсоборного совета, работал в I, II и III отделах. Член Поместного собора 1917—1918, участвовал во всех трёх сессиях, председатель XV, член I, II, V, XVI, XVII отделов и комиссии о мероприятиях к прекращению нестроений в церковной жизни, на 3-й сессии исполнял обязанности товарища председателя Собора, член Соборного совета. В качестве официального представителя Собора входил в состав делегации, которая в октябре 1917 вела переговоры с министром исповеданий Антоном Карташёвым и министром-председателем Александром Керенским о судьбе церковно-приходских школ.
Экзарх Кавказский
1 апреля 1918 года был назначен митрополитом Тифлисским и Бакинским, экзархом Кавказским. В связи с самопровозглашением в 1917 году автокефалии Грузинской церкви, что не было признано со стороны высшей церковной власти в Петрограде, а затем в Москве, выступал за включение в состав Кавказского экзархата (учреждён в июле 1917 года на территории прежнего Грузинского экзархата) Дагестана и Прикаспия. При этом Бакинское викариатство преобразовывалось в самостоятельную епархию, что должно было исключить претензии на управление им со стороны Грузинской церкви. 19 мая того же года прибыл по морю в Баку, но доехать до Тифлиса не представлялось возможным: автокефалистски настроенное грузинское духовенство в Тифлис его не допустило. 4 июля 1918 года, во время его пребывания в Баку, состоявшимся в Нижнем Новгороде епархиальным съездом большинством голосов был избран на Нижегородскую кафедру, однако патриарх Тихон высказался за оставление его Тифлисскин и Бакинским, о чём было принято постановление патриарха и Священного синода от 21 октября 1918 г.
В августе 1918 года вернулся в Москву. В 1919 году член Священного синода и председатель финансово-хозяйственного отдела Высшего Церковного Совета. В декабре 1919 — феврале 1920 года находился в заключении по решению ВЧК.
Митрополит Казанский
22 апреля 1920 года был назначен митрополитом Казанским и Свияжским, однако, из-за противодействия со стороны Секретного отдела ВЧК в Казань сумел прибыть только 9 июля. Жил в Богородицком монастыре, откуда ежедневно ходил в Иоанно-Предтеченский монастырь, где размещался епархиальный совет.
19 августа 1920 года был арестован в Казани по телеграфному распоряжению ВЧК и помещен в тюрьму ЧК в Казани, спустя несколько дней этапирован в Москву. 27 августа осуждён к лишению свободы на срок «до конца гражданской войны» по обвинению в том, что «выехал из Москвы в Казань без разрешения ВЧК». Затем приговор был заменён на пятилетнее тюремное заключение. С. Е. Трубецкой, вспоминая о днях, проведённых в тюрьме, писал о владыке Кирилле: «С достойной простотой нёс он своей крест до конца, подавая пример многим и являясь немым укором тоже для многих…».
В январе 1922 года освобождён и вернулся в Казань. Отказался поддержать связанное с большевиками «обновленческое» движение. В августе 1922 года вновь был арестован, находился в московской тюрьме, после чего выслан в Усть-Сысольск. Власти ненадолго ему разрешили вернуться в Москву, но в этот период он решительно выступил против всяких компромиссов с обновленцами. Попросил патриарха Тихона не обменивать освобождение из ссылки архиереев на включение одиозных представителей обновленчества в состав высшего церковного руководства: «Ваше Святейшество, о нас, архиереях, не думайте. Мы теперь только и годны на тюрьмы…». Был выслан в Зырянский край.
В завещательном распоряжении патриарха Тихона от 25 декабря 1924 года (7 января 1925 года) был назван первым, к кому временно переходят «патриаршие права и обязанности» в случае кончины Патриарха. Однако в связи с нахождением митрополита Кирилла (и второго кандидата — митрополита Агафангела) в ссылке в управление Патриархией по смерти Патриарха, последовавшей 7 апреля 1925 года, вступил митрополит Петр (Полянский). После ареста последнего, 10 декабря 1925 года Заместителем местоблюстителя стал, на основании завещательного распоряжения митрополита Петра (Полянского) от 23 ноября (6 декабря) 1925 года, митрополит Сергий (Страгородский); при этом другое его распоряжение от 22 ноября (5 декабря) 1922 года предоставляло временно его «права и обязанности как Патриаршего Местоблюстителя, до законного выбора нового Патриарха» митрополитам Казанскому Кириллу (Смирнову) или Ярославскому Агафангелу.
Осенью 1926 года по инициативе епископа Павлина (Крошечкина) и архиепископа Корнилия (Соболева) среди епископата Патриаршей церкви проходило тайное избрание Патриарха путём опроса (собирания письменных мнений), в результате которого большинство иерархов высказались за избрание Патриархом митрополита Кирилла как первого в списке поименованных в завещании патриарха Тихона. Процедура закончилась массовыми арестами архиереев, включая заместителя Патриаршего местоблюстителя митрополита Сергия. Современный церковный историк иерей Александр Мазырин, изучив следственные дела, установил, что в выборах успели принять участие около 45 архиереев. Впрочем, отношение к такому способу избрания Патриарха среди высших архиереев было неоднозначным: «Глава Русской Православной Церкви Патриарший Местоблюститель митрополит Петр о них, судя по всему, вообще ничего не знал. Первый кандидат в Патриаршие Местоблюстители — митрополит Кирилл — тоже не был поставлен в известность о готовящемся избрании его Патриархом, во всяком случае, он имел основания писать, что ему эта "затея" была "совершенно неведома". <…> Про второго кандидата в Местоблюстители, старейшего иерарха Русской Церкви митрополита Агафангела, здесь и говорить не приходится: не в последнюю очередь выборы устраивались ради того, чтобы не допустить его до местоблюстительства. Заместитель Местоблюстителя митрополит Сергий дал согласие лишь на предварительный опрос архиереев о том, можно ли в принципе проводить предлагаемым образом избрание Патриарха или нет. Преемник митрополита Сергия митрополит Иосиф, по его словам, также видел в опросе лишь "предварительный обмен мнениями". Неведение или откровенно скептическое отношение к предполагаемым выборам пяти высших иерархов показывает, что до "акта избрания Патриарха" было ещё весьма далеко, тем более — до его общего признания».
Весной 1927 года когда митрополит Сергий ещё пребывал в заключении, к митрополиту Кириллу в вятскую тюрьму, где владыка находился с января по апрель 1927 года, явился ответственный за советскую церковную политику Евгений Тучков и предложил владыке возглавить Церковь, поставив условием согласовывать с властью перемещение неугодных ей архиереев. В ответ владыка Кирилл заявил: «Вы не пушка, а я не бомба, которой вы хотите взорвать изнутри Русскую Церковь». После этих слов приговор ОСО при Коллегии ОГПУ СССР по статье 58-10 (три года ссылки в Труханский край) был приведён в исполнение.
В 1928 году резко осудил действия заместителя Патриаршего местоблюстителя митрополита Сергия (перемещение с кафедр архиереев, запрещение в служении несогласных с его политикой компромисса с большевистским государством). Выступил против создания при митрополите Сергии Временного патриаршего Священного синода, считая, что это стало превышением его полномочий. В июле 1928 года писал: «Учреждение новой формы ВЦУ я не признаю́ и покойного Патриарха контрреволюционером не считаю, а заявление, сделанное о нас в Сергиевской декларации, считаю клеветой. О Господине нашем Митрополите Петре молюсь, потому что не знаю об его отношении к так называемому Патриаршему Синоду».
Последние годы
В середине 1929 года заместитель местоблюстителя патриаршего престола, митрополит Нижегородский Сергий неожиданно получил от митрополита Казанского Кирилла присланную «для сведения» копию письма одному из викарных епископов Казанской епархии, в котором он писал, что заместитель патриаршего местоблюстителя грубо превысил свои полномочия, единовластно учредив «коллегиальное церковное управление» и решившись на некоторые другие нововведения. Не признавая прав митрополита Сергия на «коренное изменение системы церковного управления», митрополит Кирилл более не считает обязательным выполнять его административные распоряжения, и, более того, воздерживается от евхаристического общения с заместителем местоблюстителя как «узурпатором церковной власти».
Определением Временного патриаршего Священного синода № 28 от 11 марта 1930 года митрополит Кирилл был запрещён в священнослужении «за поддержку раскола и молитвенное общение с раскольниками, за демонстративный отказ от евхаристического общения с возглавлением Русской Патриаршей Церкви и неподчинение Заместителю».
После этого произошла эволюция взглядов митрополита Кирилла на «сергианство», что можно проследить в его письмах и посланиях: если в 1929 году он писал: «…с моей стороны ничуть не утверждается и не заподозривается якобы безблагодатность совершаемых сергианами священнодействий и таинств…, но только подчёркивается нежелание и отказ участвовать в чужих грехах. …в случае смертной опасности со спокойной совестью приму елеосвящение и последнее напутствие от священника сергиева поставления или подчиняющегося учрежденному им Синоду», то в 1934 году: «Это только по форме тайнодействия, а по существу узурпация тайнодействий, а потому кощунственны, безблагодатны, нецерковны, но таинства, совершаемые сергианами, правильно рукоположёнными во священнослужении, не запрещёнными, являются, несомненно, таинствами спасительными для тех, кои приемлют их с верою, в простоте, без рассуждений и сомнения в их действенности и даже не подозревающих чего-либо неладного в сергианском устроении Церкви. Но в то же время они служат в суд и осуждение самим совершителям и тем из приступающих к ним, кто хорошо понимает существующую в сергианстве неправду и своим непротивлением ей обнаруживает преступное равнодушие к поруганию Церкви. Вот почему православному епископу или священнику необходимо воздерживаться от общения с сергианами в молитве. То же необходимо для мирян, сознательно относящихся ко всем подробностям церковной жизни».
В ссылке жил в Селиванихе в Туруханском крае. С 1933 года жил в городе Гжатске. 14 июля 1934 года был вновь арестован, находился в Бутырском изоляторе в Москве. 2 декабря 1934 года решением Особого совещания при НКВД СССР за «воссоздание контрреволюционной организации Истинно-православная церковь» выслан в Казахстан на три года. Жил в посёлке Яны-Курган, поддерживал отношения с представителями духовенства, негативно относившимися к деятельности митрополита Сергия, и лично с митрополитом Иосифом (Петровых). Об отношении к иосифлянам высказывался в письме к иеромонаху Леониду 23 марта 1937 года: «С митрополитом Иосифом я нахожусь в братском общении, благодарно оценивая то, что с его именно благословения был высказан от Петроградской епархии первый протест против затеи м. Сергия и дано было всем предостережение в грядущей опасности». В этом же письме он так высказывался относительно курса митрополита Сергия: «м. Сергий отходит от той Православной Церкви, какую завещал нам хранить Св. Патриарх Тихон, и следовательно для православных нет с ним части и жребия. Происшествия же последнего времени окончательно выявили обновленческую природу сергианства. Спасутся ли пребывающие в сергианстве верующие, мы не можем знать, потому что дело спасения вечного есть дело милости и благодати Божией, но для видящих и чувствующих неправду сергианства (каковы Ваши вопросы) было бы непростительным лукавством закрывать глаза на эту неправду и там искать удовлетворения духовных своих нужд потребностей с совестию, сомнящеюся в возможности такого удовлетворения».
24 июня 1937 года был арестован по обвинению в подготовке «активного повстанческого выступления против Советской власти… установления патриаршества и главенства церкви над государственной властью».
Расстрелян вместе с митрополитом Иосифом (Петровых) и епископом Евгением (Корбановым) под Чимкентом 20 ноября 1937 года по решению тройки УНКВД по Южно-Казахстанской области от 19 ноября 1937 года и похоронен в общей могиле предположительно в Лисьем овраге.
Наследие и почитание
В связи с известием о кончине местоблюстителя патриаршего престола митрополита Крутицкого Петра (Полянского) на Архиерейском соборе РПЦЗ в декабре 1937 года архиереи РПЦЗ, расценив притязания митрополита Сергия (Страгородского) как незаконные, признали митрополита Казанского Кирилла законным местоблюстителем, не зная о том, что митрополит был расстрелян. Однако, ввиду гонений Собор признал невозможным открыто поминать митрополита Кирилла, постановив: «Поминать митр. Кирилла, как Местоблюстителя Московского Патриаршего Престола и Возглавителя Русской Церкви за проскомидией и в частных молитвах, но от возглашения его имени за Богослужениями воздержаться, чтобы не навлечь на него тяжких гонений со стороны безбожной власти большевиков. Настоящий акт хранить без опубликования, во свидетельство будущим временам о законном преемстве возглавления Русской Церкви». Вместо открытого поминовения имени митрополита Кирилла Архиерейский собор постановил поминать «Православное Епископство Церкве Российския».
О судьбе митрополита Кирилла долгое время не было ничего известно. Так, в 1941 году митрополит Серафим (Лукьянов) писал: «Жив ли митрополит Кирилл, не известно; однако можно предположить, что он уже умер, поскольку ему сейчас было бы 78-79 лет и его силы были истощены длительной ссылкой в Сибири».
Факт наложения на митрополита Кирилла запрета в священнослужении для церковных историков остался малоизвестным, хотя ещё в 1931 году о нём писал священник Михаил Польский, правда, неверно указывая дату. Примечательно, что упоминания о мартовском запрещении 1930 года нет в самом полном на данный момент жизнеописании святителя Кирилла, составленном А. В. Журавским. Митрополит Иоанн (Снычёв) подчёркивал, что, в отличие от постановлений «против иосифлян и других раскольников», в случае с митрополитом Кириллом «запрещения в священнодействии не последовало».
Прославлен в лике святых новомучеников Российских на Юбилейном Архиерейском соборе Русской православной церкви в августе 2000 года для общецерковного почитания. Это решение собора было положительно расценено некоторыми епископами Русской православной церкви заграницей (РПЦЗ), которая канонизировала владыку Кирилла ещё в 1981 году. Они в этом увидели, что современная Московская патриархия дистанцируется от деятельности митрополита Сергия (Страгородского), признав святым человека, который был одной из «знаковых» фигур в оппозиции ему. Канонизация запрещённого в священнодействии митрополита фактически дезавуировала те прещения, которым владыка Кирилл подвергся в 1930 году со стороны митрополита Сергия (Страгородского) и Временного патриаршего Священного синода при нём.
Награды
Орден Святой Анны II степени (1904)
Орден Святого Владимира III степени (1905)
Орден Святой Анны I степени (1908)
Орден Святого Владимира II степени (1912)
Орден Святого Александра Невского (1915)
Сочинения
Призыв хранить верность присяге императору Николаю II // РГИА. Ф. 797. Оп. 86. Д. 46. Л. 4.
Письмо к В. Н. Львову // РГИА. Ф. 797. Оп. 96. Д. 295.
Письма к архимандриту Неофиту (Осипову) и Ираиде Тиховой // Архив ПСТГУ.
Записка архимандрита Кирилла. По вопросу принадлежности Урмийских храмов Православной Духовной Миссии, 13 декабря 1903 года
Речь начальника Православной Духовной миссии в Урмии // Церковные ведомости. — СПб., 1904. — № 8. — С. 271—279.
Слово на Сретение Господне, сказанное за всенощным бдением в Тамбовском Казанском монастыре // Тамбовские епархиальные ведомости. 1910. — № 7. — C. 239—242
Речь воспитанникам Тамбовской духовной семинарии // Тамбовские епархиальные ведомости. 1910. — № 8. — С. 290—293.
Слово во 2-ю Неделю Великого Поста, сказанное в Казанском монастыре // Тамбовские епархиальные ведомости. 1910. — № 12. — C. 429—432
Пьяницы позорят Православную Церковь // // Тамбовские епархиальные ведомости. 1910. Прил. — С. 1-8.
В Тамбовской Духовной семинарии на благодарственном молебне перед роспуском на летние каникулы пяти первых классов // Тамбовские епархиальные ведомости. 1910. — № 17-18. — С. 617—622
Слово Епископа Тамбовского и Шацкого Кирилла, сказанное под Вербное воскресенье // Тамбовские епархиальные ведомости. 1910. — № 17-18. — C. 623—624
Речь при открытии епархиального съезда // Тамбовские епархиальные ведомости. 1911. — № 4.
О посте // Тамбовские епархиальные ведомости. 1911. — № 12. — C. 727—729
Открытое письмо редактору «Тамбовского края»; Слово Еп. Тамбовского и Шацкого Кирилла за всенощным бдением // Тамбовские епархиальные ведомости. 1912. — № 32, 35. — C. 1523—1526
На всенощном бдении под праздник Воздвижения Честного и Животворящего Креста Господня // Тамбовские епархиальные ведомости. 1912. — № 39. — C. 1649—1651
Письмо в редакцию // Тамбовские епархиальные ведомости. 1914. — № 37.
Поучения // Тамбовские епархиальные ведомости. 1915. — № 9. — C. 239—240; № 10. — C. 283—284
Речь к выпускникам Тамбовской духовной семинарии // Тамбовские епархиальные ведомости. 1915. — № 19.
По окончании литии в Михайло-Архангельской церкви посёлка при станции Сампур // Тамбовские епархиальные ведомости. 1916. — № 9. — C. 235—237
Телеграммы; Слово по изнесении Св. Креста; Предложение духовной консистории // Тамбовские епархиальные ведомости. 1917. — № 10/11, 28.
Обращение к пастве // Тамбовский край. 1917. 2 марта.
Письма митр. Сергию (Страгородскому) и др. // Акты Святейшего Тихона, Патриарха Московского и всея России, позднейшие документы и переписка о каноническом преемстве высшей церковной власти, 1917—1943. Сб. в двух частях / Сост. М. Е. Губонин. М., 1994. — С. 636—641, 651—657, 699—702.
Письмо митрополита Кирилла (Смирнова) к м. Евдокии // Богословский сборник. 1999. — Вып. 3. 1999. — С. 225—257.
Письма священномучеников-архиереев РПЦ к свт. Тихону, Патриарху Московскому и всея России // Богословский сборник. 2000. — Вып. 6. — С. 7-15.
После Туруханской ссылки (Письма к священноисп. еп. Афанасию Ковровскому) // Богословский сборник. 2001. — Вып. 8. — С. 352—363.
Письма и проповеди // Журавский А. Во имя правды и достоинства Церкви. — М., 2004.
Примечания
Литература
«Авво мой родной!» Письма священномученика митрополита Кирилла (Смирнова) преподобномученику архимандриту Неофиту (Осипову) 1933—1934 гг. / публ. Воробьев В. Н., Мазырин А. В., Щелкачев А. В., Хайлова О. И., Казаков И. С. // Вестник ПСТГУ. Серия II: История. История Русской Православной Церкви. — 2014. — Вып. 2 (57). — С. 117—142.
Мазырин А. Священномученик митрополит Кирилл (Смирнов) как глава «правой» церковной оппозиции. Круг его ближайших последователей // Богословский сборник. — М.: Изд-во ПСТБИ, 2003. — Вып.11. — С. 368—424; Вып. 12. — С. 224—279. — Вып.13. — С. 286—348.
Липаков Е. В. Архипастыри Казанские. 1555—2007. — Казань: Центр инновационных технологий, 2007. — С. 311—323. — 476 с. — ISBN 978-5-93962-249-3.
«Милость Господня да будет с тобою!» Письма священномученика митрополита Кирилла (Смирнова) исповеднице Ираиде (Тиховой) 1934—1937 гг. / Публ. прот. В. Воробьёва, свящ. А. Щелкачева, свящ. А. Мазырина, О. И. Хайловой и И. С. Казакова, вступ. ст. и коммент. прот. В. Воробьева, свящ. А. Мазырина и О. И. Хайловой // Вестник ПСТГУ. Серия II: История. История Русской Православной Церкви. — 2015. — Вып. 2 (63). — С. 143—156.
Н. А. Пути Российской Церкви вчера — сегодня — завтра. В свете экклезиологии Священномученика Кирилла Казанского // Вестник Германской Епархии Русской Православной Церкви за границей. — Мюнхен. — 1999. — № 2. — С. 16—22.
«Это есть скорбь для Церкви, но не смерть её…»: Из материалов следственного дела священномученика митрополита Кирилла Казанского (1930) / Публ. и примеч. Н. А. Кривошеевой и А. В. Мазырина // Богословский сборник. — Вып. 8. — 2001. — С. 326—351.
Воробьёв В. Н., Мазырин А. В., Косик О. В. «Формула» священномученика митрополита Кирилла (Смирнова) из тетради священномученика епископа Дамаскина (Цедрика). 1934 г. // Вестник ПСТГУ. Серия II: История. История Русской Православной Церкви. 2022. — Вып. 104. — С. 145—160
Ссылки
Житие святого священномученика Кирилла (Смирнова) Митрополита Казанского и Свияжского На сайте Казанской епархии
Кирилл (Смирнов) На сайте Русское Православие
Проповеди митрополита Кирилла
Выпускники Санкт-Петербургской духовной семинарии
Выпускники Санкт-Петербургской духовной академии
Преподаватели Второй Санкт-Петербургской гимназии
Святые по алфавиту
Митрополиты Русской православной церкви
Православные миссионеры
Русские православные святые
Христианские святые XX века
Иосифлянское духовенство
Священномученики
Православные мученики
Канонизированные в XX веке
Катакомбная церковь
Священнослужители, репрессированные в СССР
Сосланные в Туруханский край
Участники Поместного собора Православной российской церкви (1917—1918)
Расстрелянные и похороненные в Лисьей Балке
Казнённые в 1937 году
Персоналии:Казанский монастырь (Тамбов)
Персоналии:Казанский Богородицкий монастырь | {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaWikipedia"
} | 9,491 |
Q: iOS devices nginx redirect works in curl but not working in browsers (devices) I'm trying to setup nginx to redirect different devices to different urls.
I have main domain and subdomain like https:// example.com and https:// m.example.com .
The idea is to redirect user on http request to corresponding https endpoints.
Desktop goes to https:// example.com
iPad goes to https:// example.com/ios
iPhone/iPod goes to https:// m.example.com/ios
My current config is like this:
server {
listen 80;
server_name www.example.com example.com;
location / {
if ($http_user_agent ~* '(iPad)') {
return 302 https:// example.com/ios;
}
if ($http_user_agent ~* '(iPhone|iPod|android)') {
return 302 https:// m.example.com/ios;
}
return 302 https:// example.com$request_uri;
}
include /etc/nginx/letsencrypt/nginx-acme.conf;
}
When I test it with curl with different User-Agents I get right redirects. But browsers on devices open https:// example.com only.
| {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaStackExchange"
} | 6,436 |
<?xml version='1.0' encoding='utf-8'?>
<widget id="com.maishu.chitustore" version="0.0.1" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/ns/widgets" xmlns:cdv="http://cordova.apache.org/ns/1.0">
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Shu Mai
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| {
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{"url":"https:\/\/scicomp.stackexchange.com\/tags\/linear-algebra\/new","text":"# Tag Info\n\n1 vote\n\n### Good examples of \"two is easy, three is hard\" in computational sciences\n\nMaxEnt distribution subject to equality constraints on cumulants is easy to compute for constraints on first 2 cumulants (closed form solution), hard for constraints on first 3 cumulants. In the ...\n\u2022 1,159\n1 vote\n\nThe non-negative rank of an entrywise non-negative matrix $A\\in\\mathbb{R}^{m\\times n}_{\\geq 0}$, i.e., the minimum $r$ for which a factorization $A = BC$ exists with $B\\in\\mathbb{R}^{m\\times r}_{\\geq ... \u2022 8,810 3 votes Accepted ### Column-normalized inverse?$ \\def\\m#1{\\left[\\begin{array}{r}#1\\end{array}\\right]} \\def\\e{\\epsilon} \\def\\qiq{\\quad\\implies\\quad} \\def\\LR#1{\\left(#1\\right)} \\def\\Diag#1{\\operatorname{Diag}\\left(#1\\right)} $Construct the ... \u2022 389 2 votes ### Largest singular value without using the adjoint You could use the characterization $$\\sigma_{\\max} = \\max_{\\dim S = 1} \\min_{x \\in S} \\frac{||Ax||_2}{||x||_2}$$ Creating random vectors$x$and computing the norm of$||Ax||_2$will give an ... \u2022 547 2 votes ### Good examples of \"two is easy, three is hard\" in computational sciences Given an integer N, it's easy enough to find m,n so that mn=N and ... 0 votes ### Good examples of \"two is easy, three is hard\" in computational sciences Predicting the behaviour of a pendulum is comparatively easy. For the simplification of a mathematical pendulum we know the analytic solutions and the numerical simulation of a single pendulum is ... \u2022 1,976 2 votes Accepted ### Numerical representation of linear spaces This sounds like an exercise in semiotics, but I'll try all the same. One alternative representation scheme for the particular case of the space of continuous functions on some n-dimensional domain$\\...\n\u2022 8,142\n\nTop 50 recent answers are included","date":"2022-07-05 18:48:59","metadata":"{\"extraction_info\": {\"found_math\": true, \"script_math_tex\": 0, \"script_math_asciimath\": 0, \"math_annotations\": 0, \"math_alttext\": 0, \"mathml\": 0, \"mathjax_tag\": 0, \"mathjax_inline_tex\": 1, \"mathjax_display_tex\": 1, \"mathjax_asciimath\": 0, \"img_math\": 0, \"codecogs_latex\": 0, \"wp_latex\": 0, \"mimetex.cgi\": 0, \"\/images\/math\/codecogs\": 0, \"mathtex.cgi\": 0, \"katex\": 0, \"math-container\": 0, \"wp-katex-eq\": 0, \"align\": 0, \"equation\": 0, \"x-ck12\": 0, \"texerror\": 0, \"math_score\": 0.9906884431838989, \"perplexity\": 5349.387509521692}, \"config\": {\"markdown_headings\": true, \"markdown_code\": true, \"boilerplate_config\": {\"ratio_threshold\": 0.18, \"absolute_threshold\": 10, \"end_threshold\": 15, \"enable\": true}, \"remove_buttons\": true, \"remove_image_figures\": true, \"remove_link_clusters\": true, \"table_config\": {\"min_rows\": 2, \"min_cols\": 3, \"format\": \"plain\"}, \"remove_chinese\": true, \"remove_edit_buttons\": true, \"extract_latex\": true}, \"warc_path\": \"s3:\/\/commoncrawl\/crawl-data\/CC-MAIN-2022-27\/segments\/1656104597905.85\/warc\/CC-MAIN-20220705174927-20220705204927-00128.warc.gz\"}"} | null | null |
1. Cheap flights Lombok - Maumere: start at SGD 153.
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{"url":"https:\/\/phys.libretexts.org\/Courses\/College_of_the_Canyons\/Physci_101_Lab%3A_Physical_Science_Laboratory_Investigations_(Ciardi)\/48%3A_Appendix_II_-_Constructing_and_Interpreting_a_Graph\/48.2%3A_Introduction","text":"Skip to main content\n\n48.2: Introduction\n\n\nGraphs allow us to visualize the relationship between two sets of numbers.\u00a0 Scientists often graph sets of numbers looking for a correlation, or a mathematical relationship.\u00a0 When constructing a graph of physical quantities, the independent variable is placed on the horizontal (x-axis), and the dependent variable is placed on the vertical (y-axis).\u00a0 A best fit line is utilized to represent the data; it is a smooth line or curve which is the average of the data points.\u00a0 The graph can be used to develop an equation relating the two sets of data, and shows how the two sets of data are related.\n\nIndependent & Dependent Variables\n\nIndependent variables do not depend on the measurement of another quantity.\u00a0 They are fundamental quantities.\u00a0 A change in location or direction will not affect a fundamental quantity.\u00a0 (Example:\u00a0 time)\n\nDependent variables depend on the measurement of another quantity.\u00a0 A change in location or direction will affect\/change this type of quantity.\u00a0 (Example:\u00a0 acceleration)\n\nGuidelines for Constructing a Good Graph\n\n\u2022 Draw the axes of the graph such that the graph will fill the space provided, leaving just enough room for labeling.\n\n\u2022 Determine the independent and the dependent variables, and label your axes accordingly.\u00a0 Include the units in your axes labels.\n\n\u2022 Determine the minimum and maximum values for each axis.\u00a0 Then choose a scale with equal increments (like 10, 20, 30, etc.) which will accommodate all of the data; the scale may be different for each axis.\n\n\u2022 Plot the data and draw a smooth line or curve that best fits the data points.\n\nContributors and Attributions\n\n48.2: Introduction is shared under a CC BY license and was authored, remixed, and\/or curated by LibreTexts.\n\n\u2022 Was this article helpful?","date":"2022-12-09 22:49:13","metadata":"{\"extraction_info\": {\"found_math\": true, \"script_math_tex\": 0, \"script_math_asciimath\": 0, \"math_annotations\": 0, \"math_alttext\": 0, \"mathml\": 0, \"mathjax_tag\": 0, \"mathjax_inline_tex\": 0, \"mathjax_display_tex\": 1, \"mathjax_asciimath\": 0, \"img_math\": 0, \"codecogs_latex\": 0, \"wp_latex\": 0, \"mimetex.cgi\": 0, \"\/images\/math\/codecogs\": 0, \"mathtex.cgi\": 0, \"katex\": 0, \"math-container\": 0, \"wp-katex-eq\": 0, \"align\": 0, \"equation\": 0, \"x-ck12\": 0, \"texerror\": 0, \"math_score\": 0.7249608635902405, \"perplexity\": 647.2435362145081}, \"config\": {\"markdown_headings\": false, \"markdown_code\": true, \"boilerplate_config\": {\"ratio_threshold\": 0.18, \"absolute_threshold\": 10, \"end_threshold\": 15, \"enable\": false}, \"remove_buttons\": true, \"remove_image_figures\": true, \"remove_link_clusters\": true, \"table_config\": {\"min_rows\": 2, \"min_cols\": 3, \"format\": \"plain\"}, \"remove_chinese\": true, \"remove_edit_buttons\": true, \"extract_latex\": true}, \"warc_path\": \"s3:\/\/commoncrawl\/crawl-data\/CC-MAIN-2022-49\/segments\/1669446711552.8\/warc\/CC-MAIN-20221209213503-20221210003503-00316.warc.gz\"}"} | null | null |
Hathaway, who is not identified by name in the criminal complaint, split with Follieri shortly before his arrest last week. He is charged with posing as an agent of the Vatican to fleece investors out of millions.
"I think that in return for her cooperation, the feds held off on arresting Follieri until she was out of the country," the friend said.
What is this world coming to when you can't even trust your girlfriend not to rat you out after lavishing her with money you work so hard to scheme from unsuspecting elderly old ladies who's living off of soon to be defunct Social Security when they could have loss it all at the casino playing the one-arm bandit. | {
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{"url":"https:\/\/www.physicsforums.com\/threads\/phase-factor-of-spinors-what-they-represent.615784\/","text":"# Phase Factor of Spinors (what they represent)\n\n1. Jun 22, 2012\n\n### lzydesmond\n\nHi all,\n\nI am troubled by the flag and flagpole analogy for two-spinors and would like some clarification.\n\nPlease refer to the post by Hans de Vries.\n\nAm I right to say that the usage of spin rotation operators (eg exp(-i($\\phi$\/2)\u03c3(x)), which is a $\\phi$ degrees rotation in the 3D space about the positive x axis would affect the phase factor of the spinor?\n\nspinor s is given by\ns = s*exp(-i($\\alpha$\/2)) (cos($\\vartheta$\/2))exp(-i($\\phi$\/2)), sin($\\vartheta$\/2))exp(i($\\phi$\/2))) (column vector here)\n\nnote, alpha, theta and phi represent angle of the flag about the flagpole, angle downwards from the z-axis and angle from the x-axis. phi here is not the same as the arbitrary phi for the spin rotation operator.\n\nMy question is whether it is true that when the spin rotation operator is used, it affects the term exp(-i($\\alpha$\/2) in a way such that a rotation of 360 degrees makes the spinor negative and thus a rotation of 720 degrees is needed for the spinor to return to its original state. Ie, when the flagpole rotates, the flag is also rotating but while the flagpole has a period of 360 degrees(like a usual vector in 3D), the flag has a period of 720 degrees.\n\nI mean is this the only way to see how spin rotation operators affect the spinor? (in other words the state of electron) This is because I can't see directly how rotation operators affect the phase factor other than this way. Please enlighten me. Thank you.\n\n2. Jun 22, 2012\n\n### lzydesmond\n\nhi there, it seems that no one has an answer\/understood what I was saying.\n\nI gave some though to the issue...\nwhat I think is that the rotation of the flag (angle alpha) has no effect on rotations. it is what is called global phase factor I believe? exp(-i(alpha)\/2)\n\nI think I got muddled up with the spin rotation operator which does produce a phase factor when acting on an eigenstate. This phase factor exp(-i(phi)\/2) is crucial in determining the state of spin (since phi = 2pi gives a phase factor of -1).\n\nSU(2) is a group homomorphism to SO(3) (2:1) precisely because we need 2 turns of 360 degrees to get back to the original state. But the first turn and the second turn are essentially the same thing in SO(3), a rotation of 360 degrees.\n\n3. Jun 22, 2012\n\n### PhilDSP\n\nHi lzydesmond,\n\nI'll take an initial swing at this and others can correct or augment... SU(2) is not simply a homomorphism of SO(3) but is a double cover or 2-to-1 homomorphism of SO(3). There are 2 ways within SU(2) to get to any result in SO(3). What is considered an axis in SO(3) is really a pseudo-vector or axial vector in contrast to a polar vector. The algebraic rules for polar and pseudo-vectors are\n\n$i r = -r~~~~$ when $r$ is a polar vector\n$i r = r~~~~~~$ when $r$ is a pseudo-vector\n\nThe cross product $r \\times s$ is a pseudo-vector when $r$ and $s$ are of the same type and a polar vector when there are of mixed types. The cross product is really an alternate description of a rotation in SO(3) or SU(2).\n\nIf you flip the rotation axis in SO(3) the rotation appears to switch directions. Another (180 degree) flip will return the original rotation direction. But in SU(2), you need to consider the effect that a flip of the rotation axis (or flagpole) has in terms of conjugates of the vectors or pseudo-vectors as described above. That is, SU(2) forces the distinction above.\n\nThis seems to mean that if a rotation can be described in SO(3) without recourse to SU(2) then you won't observe a 360 degree to 720 degree difference, while if your physical situation can be adequately described only within SU(2), spin $\\frac{1}{2}$ particles for example, then the difference can potentially be observed in certain circumstances.\n\nLast edited: Jun 22, 2012\n4. Jun 22, 2012\n\n### lzydesmond\n\nokay thanks for your reply. The part on the global phase and the phase introduced by spin rotations is still not resolved though. I am still unsure whether the flag actually rotates during a rotation.\n\n5. Jun 22, 2012\n\n### PhilDSP\n\nThe flag\/flagpole terminology was introduced by Penrose and Rindler I think. I suspect it has special meaning only within their particular conceptualization. More generally, a spinor represents a rotation so I don't think you need to ask if it is itself rotating.\n\nYou can compound or perform an integration of any number of infinitesimal rotations to arrive at a particular physical rotation. It doesn't matter in what order you perform the integration, the total rotation is invariant. That is the rationale for developing spinors as opposed to dealing with the non-commuting nature of normal 3D axial space rotations.\n\nLast edited: Jun 22, 2012\n6. Jun 22, 2012\n\n### lzydesmond\n\nyes I kind of get what you mean by a spinor represents a rotation. Actually I would think it is a spin state, a state whereby we can express in terms of eigenspinors. I mean I found their conceptualization quite useful, except for the flag rotation part. Is there a better conceptualization? or anyway whereby I can conceptualize rotation of spinors in three dimensions.\n\n7. Jun 22, 2012\n\n### PhilDSP\n\nElie Cartan's original conceptual development of spinors as isotropic vectors is probably an excellent way to map normal 3 vectors to spinors and vice versa. I particularly like Hladik's more recent treatment of the subject.\n\n8. Jun 23, 2012\n\n### Hans de Vries\n\nYes, the reverse is also true.\n\nThe U(1) operator $e^{i\\phi}$ has the beautiful fundamentally important property that it\nalways rotates a spinor around its own axis entirely independent of the direction\nof the spinor. For a spinor $\\xi_s$ pointing in the $\\vec{s}$ direction we can therefor write.\n\n$$e^{i\\vec{s}\\cdot\\vec{\\sigma}}\\xi_s~~=~~e^{is}\\xi_s$$\n\nThe reason for this is that we define the spinor $\\xi_s$ as being an eigenvector of\nthe boost matrix $\\vec{s}\\cdot\\vec{\\sigma}$ in the $\\vec{s}$ direction, because if you boost a spin in its own\ndirection then its changes magnitude but the direction stays the same.\nWe therefor may replace the matrix $\\vec{s}\\cdot\\vec{\\sigma}$ at the left hand side by the eigenvalue\n$s$ at the right hand side.\n\nHans.\n\n9. Jun 23, 2012\n\n### lzydesmond\n\nok so in short, whenever a spin rotation matrix is used (around any axis), angle alpha measured in the orientation of the flag changes so the flag rotates and the flag has a period of 720 degrees (which corresponds to 2 full circles). This term exp(-i(alpha\/2) boosts the magnitude of the spinor. (it multiplies the spinor by a complex number). When the flag achieves a rotation of 360 degrees, it becomes obvious when the spinor gains a negative sign (as compared to a similar rotation, with ref to your figure 16.7). So the spinor has an overall sign change.\n\nAm I right in all these?\n\n10. Jun 23, 2012\n\n### Hans de Vries\n\nThat's all correct except that the magnitude stays equal when applying $e^{-i\\alpha\/2}$.\n\n(The term $-i\\tfrac12\\vec{s}\\cdot\\vec{\\sigma}$ is the generator of the rotation operator while $\\pm\\tfrac12\\vec{s}\\cdot\\vec{\\sigma}$ is the\ngenerator of boost operations)\n\nHans.\n\n11. Jun 23, 2012\n\n### lzydesmond\n\nOkay, I think I kind of get what you mean. Because exp(-i(alpha\/2) has modulus 1, the magnitude remains unchanged. Could you clarify on this part (as quoted above)? What are boost operations?\n\n12. Jun 23, 2012\n\n### Hans de Vries\n\nA boost is just another word for a one-time acceleration (change of one velocity to\nanother one) in the context of special relativity and Lorentz transforms.\n\nIf you give a particle with spin a velocity then, in general the spin-pointer will change\ndirection, except if you accelerate the particle in the direction parallel to the spin.\n\nHans.\n\n13. Jun 23, 2012\n\n### lzydesmond\n\nHi, I have tried to search for a general boost operator but to no avail. I understand that exp(-i($\\vartheta$\/2)(n$\\cdot$$\\sigma$)) is the spin operator around axis n, where n is a unit vector. May I ask what is the equivalent for boost operator? Also, I don't see how exp(is) changes the magnitude of the spinor. Do you mean exp(s) instead?\n\n14. Jun 23, 2012\n\n### Hans de Vries\n\nThe boost operator is very similar. Just remove the i from the argument. See also here in 16.16\n\nIt doesn't. The i makes the difference between a boost and a rotation (there's also a\nsign depending on which of the two chiral components you are operating on).\n\nHans.\n\n15. Jun 23, 2012\n\n### lzydesmond\n\nokay I kind of understood what you have said. You used the boost matrix (which is also the spin matrix) $\\vec{s}\\cdot\\vec{\\sigma}$ by taking its eigenvalue, (s here) to show the above equation for spin rotation operator. But the equivalent for boost operator would be without the i right? The state of the spin would not change in direction but receive a boost in magnitude, exp(s) instead. Am I right on this now?\n\nfor boost operator\n$$e^{\\vec{s}\\cdot\\vec{\\sigma}}\\xi_s~~=~~e^{s}\\xi_s$$\n\n16. Jun 23, 2012\n\n### Hans de Vries\n\nYes,\n\nHans\n\n17. Jul 8, 2012\n\n### PhilDSP\n\nLooking into this further a bit, I gather that flags and flagpoles are a development that lead to the Twistor formalization. Penrose and Rindler in \"Spinors and space-time\" on p. 127 state:\n\nA flag manifold can then be defined wherein the space of Twistors is associated with the family of flag manifolds.\n\nThe rationale for developing Twistor theory seems to be to overcome a limitation in working with SU(n) groups. Working purely in SU(n), as you might for modeling basic characteristics of elementary particles, you essentially work with dynamics. That is, you make no presumptions about the application of a time-space metric ($E^4$ and $E^3$ are implicit). If you wish to apply a space-time metric, you then work kinematically. However, it is known that there exist no non-trivial SU(n) anti-self-dual gauge fields in Minkowski space. Twistor formalism gives mappings between Twistor space and Minkowski space. Twistors provide the self-dual and anti-self-dual structures compatible with SU(n).\n\nLast edited: Jul 8, 2012\n18. Jul 8, 2012\n\n### Spinnor\n\nSo if I have an electron that is equally likely to be spin up as spin down and I boost the electron in the up direction it will now be more likely to be a spin up electron?\n\nThanks for any help!\n\n19. Jul 8, 2012\n\n### lzydesmond\n\nYou need to define the axis for the spin and determine the axis for the boost as well. After that, you just need to do some calculations for the amplitude and square it for the probability.","date":"2017-12-13 12:10:19","metadata":"{\"extraction_info\": {\"found_math\": true, \"script_math_tex\": 0, \"script_math_asciimath\": 0, \"math_annotations\": 0, \"math_alttext\": 0, \"mathml\": 0, \"mathjax_tag\": 0, \"mathjax_inline_tex\": 1, \"mathjax_display_tex\": 1, \"mathjax_asciimath\": 0, \"img_math\": 0, \"codecogs_latex\": 0, \"wp_latex\": 0, \"mimetex.cgi\": 0, \"\/images\/math\/codecogs\": 0, \"mathtex.cgi\": 0, \"katex\": 0, \"math-container\": 0, \"wp-katex-eq\": 0, \"align\": 0, \"equation\": 0, \"x-ck12\": 0, \"texerror\": 0, \"math_score\": 0.7789177894592285, \"perplexity\": 761.8296842420365}, \"config\": {\"markdown_headings\": true, \"markdown_code\": true, \"boilerplate_config\": {\"ratio_threshold\": 0.18, \"absolute_threshold\": 10, \"end_threshold\": 15, \"enable\": true}, \"remove_buttons\": true, \"remove_image_figures\": true, \"remove_link_clusters\": true, \"table_config\": {\"min_rows\": 2, \"min_cols\": 3, \"format\": \"plain\"}, \"remove_chinese\": true, \"remove_edit_buttons\": true, \"extract_latex\": true}, \"warc_path\": \"s3:\/\/commoncrawl\/crawl-data\/CC-MAIN-2017-51\/segments\/1512948522999.27\/warc\/CC-MAIN-20171213104259-20171213124259-00155.warc.gz\"}"} | null | null |
{"url":"https:\/\/math.eretrandre.org\/tetrationforum\/showthread.php?mode=threaded&tid=403&pid=4392","text":"\u2022 1 Vote(s) - 5 Average\n\u2022 1\n\u2022 2\n\u2022 3\n\u2022 4\n\u2022 5\n f(f(x)) = exp(x) + x bo198214 Administrator Posts: 1,386 Threads: 90 Joined: Aug 2007 12\/12\/2009, 12:25 PM (This post was last modified: 12\/12\/2009, 12:39 PM by bo198214.) Indeed $F(x)=e^x+x$ (which I will call here added exponential) is a very interesting function as it has no complex fixpoints. If there was some complex fixpoint $z$ then $e^z+z=z$, means $e^z=0$ which is never true. So one could think that one can not apply regular iteration. However as Tommy already suggested there is a fixed point at (complex) infinity. Well, the function is not analytic there, but for regular iteration it suffices that the function has an asymptotic powerseries development (approaching the fixed point in some sector) or even merely that the function is asymptotically real differentiable. This condition is met, the asymptotic derivatives for $z\\to -\\infty$ of $F$ are: $F'(-\\infty)=\\lim_{z\\to -\\infty} e^z+1=1$ and all higher derivatives are $F^{(n)}(-\\infty) = 0$. I.e. $F$ has asymptotically the same derivatives as the identity function. So we can apply the limit formula for regular iteration with multiplier 1 (derived from L\u00e9vy's formula for the Abel function): (*) $F^{[t]}(z) = F^{[n]}( t F^{[-n+1]}(z) + (1-t) F^{[-n]}(z) )$ This formula converges only very slowly, but it suffices to get 2 or 3 digits to plot a graph of $f=F^{[0.5]}$ (blue): \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Another way is to consider the analytic conjugate $M = \\exp \\circ F \\circ \\log$. $M(x)=\\exp(x+\\log(x))=e^x x$ is the (what I call) multiplied exponential, which moves the fixed point at $-\\infty$ of $F$ to the fixed point 0 of $M$. This function is well regularly iterable at 0 (with powerseries and limit formula) at then $F^{[t]}=\\log\\circ M^{[t]} \\circ\\exp$. The conjugation formula shows also how to compute the inverse of $F(x)=x+e^x$ which is needed e.g. in the limit formula. The inverse is $F^{[-1]} = \\log\\circ M^{[-1]}\\circ \\exp$, i.e. $F^{[-1]}(x) = \\log(W(e^x))$, where $W$ is the Lambert function. \u00ab Next Oldest | Next Newest \u00bb\n\n Messages In This Thread f(f(x)) = exp(x) + x - by tommy1729 - 12\/12\/2009, 12:54 AM RE: f(f(x)) = exp(x) + x - by bo198214 - 12\/14\/2009, 09:52 AM RE: f(f(x)) = exp(x) + x - by tommy1729 - 12\/14\/2009, 09:47 PM\n\nUsers browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)","date":"2019-11-18 15:26:27","metadata":"{\"extraction_info\": {\"found_math\": true, \"script_math_tex\": 0, \"script_math_asciimath\": 0, \"math_annotations\": 0, \"math_alttext\": 0, \"mathml\": 0, \"mathjax_tag\": 0, \"mathjax_inline_tex\": 0, \"mathjax_display_tex\": 0, \"mathjax_asciimath\": 0, \"img_math\": 0, \"codecogs_latex\": 0, \"wp_latex\": 0, \"mimetex.cgi\": 21, \"\/images\/math\/codecogs\": 0, \"mathtex.cgi\": 0, \"katex\": 0, \"math-container\": 0, \"wp-katex-eq\": 0, \"align\": 0, \"equation\": 0, \"x-ck12\": 0, \"texerror\": 0, \"math_score\": 0.9132726788520813, \"perplexity\": 1070.0709557139473}, \"config\": {\"markdown_headings\": true, \"markdown_code\": true, \"boilerplate_config\": {\"ratio_threshold\": 0.18, \"absolute_threshold\": 10, \"end_threshold\": 15, \"enable\": true}, \"remove_buttons\": true, \"remove_image_figures\": true, \"remove_link_clusters\": true, \"table_config\": {\"min_rows\": 2, \"min_cols\": 3, \"format\": \"plain\"}, \"remove_chinese\": true, \"remove_edit_buttons\": true, \"extract_latex\": true}, \"warc_path\": \"s3:\/\/commoncrawl\/crawl-data\/CC-MAIN-2019-47\/segments\/1573496669795.59\/warc\/CC-MAIN-20191118131311-20191118155311-00307.warc.gz\"}"} | null | null |
**For Will and Dana**
## Contents
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Foreword
---|---|---
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Introduction: Fastnet after Twenty Years
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The Search for _Grimalkin_
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_Grimalkin:_ An Orderly Boat, a Disorderly Storm
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_Toscana:_ To the Western Approaches
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_Toscana:_ Battle Scene
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_Trophy:_ Slipping Away
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The Seas: The Most Fearsome Things
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The Rescuers: Asking the Impossible
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_Ariadne:_ The Unluckiest Boat in the World
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The Finishers: Retreat and Refuge
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Lessons Learned and Unlearned
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Acknowledgments
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APPENDIX I / Summary of Finishes, Abondonments, and Sinkings
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APPENDIX II / Rescue Services
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APPENDIX III / Some Rescue Positions
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Sources
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Index
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Praise for Fastnet, Force 10
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Copyright
Maps
The Fastnet Race Course
The Path of Low Y
Low Y at 7:00 A.M. Tuesday, August 14
The Search and Rescue Operation
Some Rescue Positions
## Foreword
**T** HIS IS A SEA STORY, and it is true. It is the story of how fifteen people died, not in wartime, or on a hunt for whales, or in a typhoon in the South China Sea, but during a yacht race only seventy miles off the coast of England. What began as a six hundred-mile sail in fine weather around a lighthouse off the Irish coast became, for twenty-seven hundred men and women in 303 yachts, a terrifying ordeal as one of the most vicious summer gales in the twentieth century swept east from the American Great Plains to trap the Fastnet race fleet in the shallow waters of the Western Approaches to Britain.
The worst disaster in the one-hundred year history of ocean yacht racing, the 1979 Fastnet race is a startling reminder of man's vulnerability before the elements. As the official inquiry into the calamity concluded, "the sea showed that it can be a deadly enemy and that those who go to sea for pleasure must do so in the full knowledge that they may encounter dangers of the highest order." From 10:00 P.M. on August 13 until 6:00 P.M. on August 14, those dangers were a shrieking wind that blew at force 10 velocity (forty-eight to fifty-five knots) and up to hurricane strength, and, more dangerous, a true maelstrom of a seaway. Steep waves as high as fifty feet formed towering breakers that collapsed on boats and sailors like surf on a beach, hurling twenty thousand pounds of water at twenty or thirty knots onto hulls that, on average, were only thirty-eight feet long and weighed about fifteen thousand pounds. More than one-third of the boats were knocked over until their masts paralleled the water. One-fourth were capsized entirely, many rolling over through a circle. Even the larger boats—among them former prime minister Edward Heath's _Morning Cloud_ and Ted Turner's _Tenacious_ —were battered. Many boats were damaged and some crews were badly injured.
Worse yet, six men were lost overboard and swept away when their safety harnesses broke. Nine others drowned or died of hypothermia in the cold water and air, either on board yachts or near life rafts that had capsized. In all, twenty-four crews abandoned their yachts, five of which sank. One hundred and thirty-six men and women were saved from sinking yachts, life rafts, and the water itself by heroic helicopter crews, commercial and naval seamen, and fellow yachtsmen, and seventy yachtsmen were towed or escorted to safety by lifeboats.
What follows is the story of the race and the storm, told in the accounts of over seventy yachts and rescue vessels.
"This is the disintegrating power of a great wind: it isolates one from one's kind," Joseph Conrad wrote in _Typhoon._ Besides affection for the outdoors and competitiveness, one of the reasons why people undergo the rigors of racing boats out of sight of land is the opportunity that the sport offers for companionship. The Fastnet gale, however, showed how isolated and helpless we all can be. Human contact was difficult and communication was impossible in the shrieking wind and pounding seas. Even the security of the cabins was false, as galley stoves, tins of food, sails, and bodies flew from side to side below with every lurch and roll. While offshore sailing had always been respected as a challenge and, at worst, a risk, few people caught in the gale would have previously thought the sport to be actually dangerous. The realization that they, their shipmates, and their competitors were in danger dawned on the most unlucky sailors during the gale, and on many of the survivors after the storm passed and the fight for survival ended.
Acknowledging vulnerability has not driven this sailor from the sea. I had seen gales before the Fastnet race—but none as bad—and probably will see gales again—I hope, none worse. Yet like many people at the turn of the decade, I feel considerably more aware of the limitations both of myself and of the increasingly complex technology that surrounds my sport and my life. Like many activities in late twentieth-century life, yachting apparently has benefited from professionalism, specialization, and rationality. In the year of a famine in Southeast Asia, a revolution in Iran, and a frightening accident at a nuclear power plant in Pennsylvania, the calamity in the Western Approaches seems to be yet another indication that our positivistic faith in technology may be groundless. We appear to have been led by transitory successes into the heresy that we can completely manipulate our lives and our environments—a modern version of the medieval doctrine of justification by works.
Hunger, religious fervor, and nuclear energy may eventually be channeled or controlled, but only with the deepest respect for their latent powers. More certainly, wind and water will again be used for emotionally satisfying ends, but only by people who acknowledge that catastrophe is always possible.
John Rousmaniere
_Stamford, Connecticut
December 26,1979_
## INTRODUCTION
## Fastnet after Twenty Years
FEW HOPES ARE MORE UNIVERSAL than the one that a tragedy will have a positive outcome, no matter how small. Therefore I am never surprised when nonsailors and sailors who have read " _Fastnet, Force 10_ " ask whether something good came out of the catastrophe. While writing the book only weeks after the storm, I tried to honor the extraordinary human decency and courage that usually prevailed in desperate situations despite appallingly inhumane conditions. As for any seamanship lessons learned, however, all I could report as I completed the text late in 1979 was that people everywhere had their opinions, only a few of which were informed and fair-minded. Second-guessing and finger-pointing were epidemic.
Readers could draw their own conclusions from the narratives, and many did so, as I soon learned directly and indirectly. Three years later, I was asked by a sailing magazine to write about one of the intense storms that regularly sweep up the American East Coast every fall, leaving a trail of wreckage and death. One cruising boat capsized off the New Jersey shore but survived, and during a telephone interview with her skipper, I asked if he had ever considered abandoning ship. This man (who had not caught my unusual name) admitted that he had briefly considered it but he stayed with the boat because "I remembered what I'd read in that book about the Fastnet race."
Many other lessons were seen through a glass darkly. It was too early then even to phrase the right questions to ask. Shrugging off the depressing shock of the disaster's uniqueness seemed impossible. An event that was "only a sailboat race" had left fifteen people dead, hundreds in mourning, and thousands frightened. That shock has been tempered over the years, but only slightly. It remains true that no other event in the pastime of pleasure sailing has been so catastrophic. This includes the well-known storm in the 1998 Sydney to Hobart race in Australia that left six dead.
Plenty of questions eventually were asked—about the weather, about personal and boat safety equipment, and about how people in this traditionally macho pastime might develop a healthier attitude about safety. Major international research efforts were undertaken on all these fronts to improve sailing seamanship, and as a result Fastnet '79 become the watershed event in the history of the sport.
"Man marks the earth with ruin—his control stops with the shore." Byron's famous lines may be true in a philosophical sense, but not in regard to the study of seamanship. After the 1979 Fastnet, a lot of smart, dedicated people attempted to assert some more and better control over sailboats. Here I'll summarize some of that work and also say a word about other events, including the 1998 Sydney-Hobart race.
### **The Killer Storm**
Let us begin with our enemy that mid-August night. The meteorological version of Shakespeare's Richard III, the Fastnet storm was unseasonable, violent, misshapen, opportunistic, bent on destruction, and thoroughly surprising. Weather forecasting and the dissemination of forecasts were then primitive by today's standards. There were few satellites in orbit for nonmilitary use, and storms were often traced in the traditional way of using radioed reports from the decks of ships. While I was writing the book, in order to gain a better understanding of the storm, I acquired a stack of huge paper synoptic weather maps from the National Weather Service, spread them on the floor in my house, and with my friend Eric Olsen spent a day tracking the history of a nasty little cell of low pressure from its birth in the American Great Plains to its death in Norway. But on August 13 very little of that was known.
One of the mysteries of this history, summarized in Chapter 2, is that the low disappeared for a while from the weather maps only to resurface, deeper, bigger, and faster than ever. A year later I learned why. In the western Atlantic, just as the cell began to break up, it was reenergized by passing over a patch of unusually warm water. The low quickly deepened into what meteorologists only recently had begun to call a "bomb"—a pocket of air in which the atmospheric pressure drops rapidly and dangerously at a rate of 1 millibar an hour for twenty-four hours. In fact, the prime example of this newly identified phenomenon was the Fastnet storm itself. Much strengthened, the storm swept across the North Atlantic to Ireland, and on the night of August 13 it was flipping thirty-five-foot yachts like bathtub toys.
When the news drifted ashore, journalists with dry feet began to ask with increasing insistence why the Royal Ocean Racing Club hadn't called off the race. Chatter like this boils up from easy chairs whenever bad weather hits. Some people are always under the impression that blowing a whistle will magically transport the vessels and their crews out of the tempest to a safe haven—as though sailors a hundred miles offshore, like ball players at Yankee Stadium, can retire to a dugout when it starts to rain.
There also were questions about why the race was started in the first place. The official forecasts were not deeply pessimistic in the moments before the starts of both the 1979 Fastnet and the 1998 Sydney-Hobart races. In the first race, storm warnings did not appear for another two days, by which time the blow had already begun battering the fleet. While forecasting in 1979 was relatively primitive, the weather predictions nineteen years later were, if anything, even more unhelpful. This was due not to the old, pre-telecommunications revolution problem of too little information too late. Rather, the issue in 1998 was the by now all too familiar one of _too much_ information flooding in and postponing decisions. Australian government forecasters wrestled for hours with three different computer models, and when they finally agreed on which of the three to use—the most pessimistic one, as it turned out—the race had already started. They then proceeded to publicize their conclusions in language that could not have misled listeners more efficiently about the forecast's import. In predicting only an _average_ likely wind speed of fifty knots and saying nothing about the expected peaks of seventy knots, they not only undermined their hard work but ignored the needs of the sailors.
Even when forecasters are not confused, bad weather is always risky for those mariners who, besides having to face it, also feel obliged to meet nonmaritime demands by people on shore for whom a gale at sea is a remote irrelevance. Shore deadlines too often get in the way of making good nautical decisions. A professional fisherman who has to catch some fish and get them ashore to market is no different from a racing sailor, whether amateur or professional, who heads out to the start of a race that was scheduled months or even years earlier. Whether the deadline is economic or competitive, it pays no attention whatsoever to the only schedule that really counts for mariners, which is the one of weather systems. Weather observes no market forces, and neither does it behave predictably in tune with any human calendar. A mature, sensible recreational fisherman or cruising sailor ideally should be cautious and even pessimistic, and will not head out if there's a chance of bad weather because there's no need to. Yet there are mature, sensible professional fishermen and racing sailors who are by nature optimists, and who may put their lives at risk in order to fulfill the demands of the job at hand regardless of the possible weather.
Ocean races are unlikely to be postponed or canceled. As Alan Green and other Royal Ocean Race Club officials explained the standard (see Chapter 9), crews are individually responsible for making their own reasoned decisions whether to head out or drop out. Ideally, nobody knows a boat's and crew's capabilities better than the captain, and weather can be extremely local, with a destructive force 9 blow (forty-five knots) not many miles from a manageable force 6 (twenty-five knots).
After the 1979 Fastnet race, other race organizers chose other options. The Cruising Club of America delayed the start of the 1982 Newport-Bermuda race by two days because of a threatening hurricane. For their pains, the race officers got little but grief from the competitors. Like any big event, a sailboat race carries its own emotional momentum. Even if a depression the width of the Tasman Sea is bearing down on you, when you are about to start a race and are out in the harbor on a warm summer afternoon—after months of preparation and surrounded by waving spectators and (increasingly today) reminders of a generous corporate sponsor—the prospect of thirty-foot breaking seas seems remote.
Race sponsors have preferred to assert tighter control in other ways that follow on the premise of individual responsibility. Today in the Fastnet, Sydney–Hobart, Newport-Bermuda, and Los Angeles-Honolulu races, and in many shorter races, too, boats must qualify for entry. Crews have to be experienced and fit, several crew members must attend safety seminars, and boats are inspected for a multitude of safety gear required by the international rules. During some races, crews are required to check in by radio once or twice a day or even carry satellite communications devices that constantly transmit their positions to shore. Of course, all this does not guarantee a safe, easy ride any more than wearing a seat belt inoculates a driver against traffic accidents.
### **Killer Boats**
The Fastnet disaster forced sailors to ask some tough questions about their boats. For so many sailors to die was terrible enough, but how could there be so much destruction in the fleet? Of the 303 boats from 22 countries, 5 sank, 100 were rolled down so far they put their masts in the water, and at least 75 were flipped upside down, their masts (or what remained of them) aimed straight down and their rudders waving uselessly in the air. All this defied the conventional expectations of a generation of sailors who believed they had mastered the technology of producing safe, fast sailboats. The leading yacht designer, Olin J. Stephens II, would make the following painful statement: "Some modern ocean racers, and the cruising boats derived from them, are dangerous to their crews."
There had been a generational shift in yacht design during the 1970s. Before then, the typical stock racer-cruiser was narrow, heavy, and extremely stable, with a range of positive stability over 110 or 120 degrees (meaning that if knocked over until her mast was underwater, a boat still has enough stability to pop back upright). But then came an intensification of competition and the tweaking of the measurement rule (the International Offshore Rule, or IOR) that was used in racing to provide a standard of comparison between large and small boats.
A new breed of racing boat appeared that was little more than a big, lightweight dinghy with a stability range as low as ninety degrees. Most boats in the 1979 Fastnet were already vulnerable because they were relatively small at between thirty feet and thirty-eight feet (the minimum size in the Newport-Bermuda race). The British have a long tradition of taking relatively small boats to sea, but the problem was that a typical thirty-five footer in 1979 was much less stable than a typical boat the same length a decade earlier. Put one of these newer boats over on her side and she can flip over completely, like a small catamaran or beach boat. The waves were big enough to knock down even a few fifty-footers, and they smashed over a great many smaller boats that then capsized and stayed upside down until other steep waves slapped their keels and levered them back upright.
Researchers addressed the question why so many boats were capsized after they lost their masts. This seemed counterintuitive; a whipping mast would seem to make a boat _less_ stable, not more. But engineering analysis showed the opposite. Just as a figure skater speeds up her spin by pulling her arms to her side and slows it by extending them, a mast provides inertia against a quick roll. (These and other important findings can be found in a book that I edited, _Desirable and Undesirable Characteristics of Offshore Yachts_ [1986].)
This good work combined with other factors to produce a new measurement rule, the International Measurement Rule (IMS), which turned out boats that, while exotic in appearance and construction and also very fast, were more stable. The 1998 Sydney–Hobart race had conditions as bad as the 1979 Fastnet's, but in the 115-boat fleet only 5 boats were rolled over completely and 20 put their masts in the water. The proportions of 3 percent and 18 percent compare very favorably with the 24 percent and 33 percent from the Fastnet storm.
But not all boats of the 1990s are safer. The passion for extreme sports, well lubricated by publicity and corporate sponsors, has created a league of singlehanded sailors in extreme dinghy-type boats in the Open 60 class. In terms of risk, sailing these wild vessels is like running up Mount Everest without oxygen tanks. Inevitably, some of these boats have capsized or been badly damaged in the wild traces of the Southern Ocean. When their skippers were rescued by competitors in superb acts of seamanship, the publicity was sensational. Still, after several of these high-wire events, people who followed those races closely in the press or on the Internet have had every right to believe that their sympathy was being manipulated. Sailors have been heading out alone in bad boats for years; almost all have survived because they were not pushing themselves and their boats beyond their limits in races (it is remarkable how seaworthy a boat becomes when she is slowed down). Many of today's long singlehanded races, however, are little more than well-organized stunts.
This trend is unique to these events and has little to do with whether the sailors are professionals or amateurs. The professionally crewed boats in the around-the-world race formerly sponsored by Whitbread and now by Volvo are extremely sound, as well as extremely fast.
### **Safety Gear and Seamanship Skills**
It is difficult to overstate how much personal safety gear and techniques have been improved over the past twenty years largely in response to the 1979 Fastnet storm. For example, I have twice given my instructional book, _The Annapolis Book of Seamanship_ , major overhauls in order to account for new gear and improved techniques. Safety harnesses (many of which snapped in 1979) are generally stronger, and inflatable life jackets are much easier to wear and also more effective than the old foam jackets. Sailors today wear these and other personal safety gear far more often.
Life rafts also have been improved with the addition of ballast bags, although as several accidents in the 1998 Sydney–Hobart race make clear, life rafts still must be handled with care and respect for their vulnerability as a vessel of last resort. On the subject of life rafts, after the Fastnet storm many crews were bitterly criticized for abandoning boats that were later found afloat. To be fair to them, we should remember that, then, life rafts were considered unbeatable. The best-known sea story of the time, Dougal Robertson's _Survive the Savage Sea_ , told how small boats saved the author's family after their boat sank and sustained them for weeks until they were rescued. This and other books had taught sailors that they could count on their life rafts, and that if the boat threatens a crew, the crew could consider abandoning it.
That was the governing paradigm for the sailors in the 1979 Fastnet race, and it was a shock to discover that, while life rafts saved many sailors, some rafts capsized and even fell apart. Life rafts today are generally better than they were then, yet they still are very small boats in a very large ocean (several rafts capsized or broke up during the 1998 Sydney–Hobart). The post-Fastnet paradigm is very different than before. Now it is generally conceded that as uncomfortable as the boat may be, she is the safest refuge until she goes under. In other words, "Don't get into a life raft until you have to step up."
There have long been many angry arguments about storm tactics (see, for example, Herman Wouk's novel _The Caine Mutiny_ , in which the cause of the mutiny was a disagreement about lying stern-to or bow-to in a storm). Fastnet '79 reheated the debate, and not always constructively. There is all too much posturing about how such-and-such a tactic is always right, regardless of the boat and the conditions. Anyone who has been out in a bad gale knows that there is nothing _always_ about a storm at sea except its danger. Conditions are constantly changing; different types of boats must be handled differently. In the 1979 Fastnet storm, most crews of smaller boats chose to run before the blow because they could not make way into it. If storm sails had been required on every yacht (they were not), if these sails had been the appropriate size (most then were too big), and if the sailors had known how to set them (few crews practice), the boats _might_ have been able to work their way to windward, steering around big breaking waves as we did in the forty-eight-footer _Toscana._ But this was at night, in seas as big, unstable, and confused as any I have ever seen.
The chief objective with both tactics—beating into the wind and running with it—was to keep the waves on the bow or stern but not on the side. Richard Everitt's superb series of drawings of a broaching boat on pages 120-21 shows why. In the 1998 Sydney–Hobart race, storm sails were required, but those on smaller boats again were too large to be used effectively. Few boats turned their sterns to the seas and ran before them, but many attempted to beam reach to nearby land and were knocked flat repeatedly. The old rule of keeping either one of the small ends pointed into or nearly into the waves still holds up.
If any story in this book exemplifies a healthy, flexible approach, it is the one in Chapter 5 of _Windswept_ , whose owner, George Tinley, refused to give up despite a smashed nose and a broken wrist. If Fastnet 79 teaches us anything universal, it is that the best storm tactic often is unrelenting human resourcefulness, courage, and spirit.
### **Talking about Safety**
Thanks in large part to the shock of the Fastnet tragedy, questions about weather, boat design, storm tactics, and safety equipment all came to be discussed widely for the first time. Before August of 1979, sailing safety was often treated with benign neglect in America. As an editor at a boating magazine in the 70s, I was cautioned that too much safety-related editorial content might scare away beginners and advertisers.
The news from the 1979 Fastnet changed all that. The U.S. Naval Academy—one of whose boats, _Alliance_ , was in the race and suffered damage (which is illustrated on page 237)—developed safety educational programs tailored for cruising and racing sailors. In 1987 these programs, with their own curriculum, were developed by Bernadette Bernon of _Cruising World_ magazine, John Bonds of what is now called the United States Sailing Association, and myself into seminars around the country. Attendance at these all-day events ran from 100 to as many as 650, many of them women who brought (or dragged as the case may be) their male sailing partners with them. The old macho spirit of sailing was dying, thank God. At these seminars, life rafts are inflated, flares are fired off, and rescues are demonstrated using simple systems developed since 1979. There are full discussions of storm tactics, and the principles of basic weather forecasting and first aid are sometimes taught. But more important than any one skill is the attitude of looking ahead to trouble, which the navy calls "forehandedness," that is repeatedly stressed by capable speakers.
### **Fastnet Compared with Sydney-Hobart**
While the 1979 Fastnet and 1998 Sydney-Hobart races differed in a few respects (most notably the size of their fleets—the first had 303 boats while the second had only 115), the differences are less significant than the similarities. The most important is that two fleets of relatively small boats were hit by ferocious storms and with tremendous, irregular, breaking waves. At least one Australian sailor who was a veteran of both has said they were equally dangerous. Below is a summary list of similarities. A few might have been avoided:
1. Storm sails were too large.
2. Weather forecasts were not useful because of poor timing or unhelpful language.
3. Radio communications were jammed because too few frequencies were available.
4. Many boats smaller than thirty-eight feet were entered and were caught in the worst weather, which they remained in longer because they were small and relatively slow.
5. Boats that had the waves on their beam were at greatest risk.
6. Many crews quickly became exhausted and hypothermic.
7. Many crews were not deeply knowledgeable about heavy weather.
8. There was a shortage of skilled, strong heavy-weather helmsmen, and steering mistakes caused broaches and other big problems.
9. People were thrown about violently below and on deck, leading to many injuries.
10. Many safety harness tethers broke.
11. Not all life rafts were reliable or properly used by sailors.
12. Some distress signals (flares, flashlights, and radio beacons) were unreliable or poorly used.
13. Some life jackets were ineffective. Inflatable jackets proved best.
### **The Women on the Quay**
In ending, I would like to add a few personal notes.
Hardly a week has passed when I have not thought about the Fastnet storm. Some of the memories are as startling today as the events themselves were twenty years ago. They include Johnny Coote's coming on deck and announcing, "Men are dying out here." Equally indelible is the memory of entering Plymouth harbor and observing a quay crowded with solemn women and men—wives and husbands, sisters and brothers, daughters and sons, and many friends—staring mournfully out to the English Channel. Plymouth has been a naval and maritime port for centuries, and so this wharf must have served as a widow's walk many hundreds of times. But I wonder if ever in its history it had supported so many people whose hearts were aching for more than two thousand yachtsmen. With the image of that crowded, silent quay in mind, I quickly saw that the Fastnet story had two levels. The first was an account of pleasure sailors at sea, the second a tale of war with a terrible enemy. If I had a model, it was Nicholas Monsarrat's autobiographical novel _The Cruel Sea_ , about convoys trying to dodge Nazi submarines not very far from where we were that dreadful August night in 1979.
I conducted my research during two trips to England in the fall of 1979. I spent days in the damp November chill of London and its libraries and at warmer remote places like the beautiful Isles of Scilly, where I interviewed the remarkable lifeboat cox, Matthew Lethbridge. There were somber interviews with survivors who had seen death, including two brave youngsters watched protectively by their loving parents as we talked. I took trains everywhere; having survived a force 10 storm, I was not about to strain whatever good luck remained by risking driving on the right-hand side of the road.
I went to Culdrose, the Royal Navy air station in Cornwall, to speak with the helicopter crews and look for photographs taken from their vantage point. In the stack of glossies was a grim photo of a corpse being hoisted into a helicopter. My attention was momentarily drawn to another picture, and when I looked back the first one was gone. The press officer who claimed no knowledge of its existence was right to edit it out.
Then it was back to America to assemble everything and write. On Christmas Eve I handed the manuscript to Eric Swenson, my Fastnet skipper and my _Fastnet_ publisher.
Several years later, I received a letter from a young Englishman. He said that his father had died in the race, he knew not how or why. He had come across " _Fastnet, Force 10_ " in a library and now he understood. Now, he wrote, it was time for him to sail his own Fastnet and finish the race that his father had completed. I sympathized; I was on a journey of my own as a student in divinity school. Yet I worried that he might be a little reckless out there, and suggested that there are other ways to honor the dead. I never again heard from him, but I do believe that—as in the Cornish tale about the water calling, "The hour is come, but not the man"—he joined the line of landsmen inevitably rushing down the hills to the sea.
I have often been asked if I sailed in another Fastnet race. In 1989 I was in Cowes for some small-boat racing and, after attending a moving memorial service for the fifteen victims, looked about for a boat needing crew for that year's Fastnet. None of the opportunities seemed quite right—the boats seemed too small or the crews were inexperienced—and I turned them all down. Greatly relieved, I instead helped some friends deliver their boat to Scotland. I had done my Fastnet.
John Rousmaniere
_Stamford, Connecticut
September 1999_
FORCE 10: Wind speed, forty-eight to fifty-five knots. Very high waves with long overhanging crests. The resulting foam in great patches is blown in dense white streaks along the direction of the wind. On the whole the surface of the sea takes a white appearance. The tumbling of the sea becomes heavy and shocklike. Visibility affected.
—Beaufort scale of wind and sea conditions
BOATSWAIN: _What cares these roarers for the name of king? To cabin! Silence! Trouble us not!_
—William Shakespeare, _The Tempest_
## **1** **The Search for GRIMALKIN**
**W** HEN THE GALE swept over Ireland during Monday night, it seemed like any other summer storm that catches a few boats out in the Western Approaches to England. The wind built to thirty then forty knots. But it kept increasing, and by the time it reached fifty and more, the coastguards who watch over the 180-mile stretch of water between Land's End and Fastnet Rock knew they had a force 10 gale on their hands.
The distress calls increased in number as the wind strengthened. A yacht named _Regardless_ lost her rudder before midnight, and the lifeboat based in Baltimore, Ireland, was dispatched to tow her in. Then _Wild Goose, Accanito_ , and _Magic_ sent out Maydays over marine radio frequencies, and by 3:00 A.M. (British Summer Time), on Tuesday morning, August 14, four lifeboats—three Irish and one English—were pounding over and through seas they reported as "very high" in search of half a dozen distressed yachts.
The people who live on either side of the Western Approaches are never surprised by bad weather, even during August, normally the warmest month of the year. Neither are they surprised by what wind and waves can do to ships and yachts. Yet as the airwaves became filled with Maydays and the sky over the Approaches was dotted with flares, the coastguards and lifeboat men stationed in the Irish Republic and in western Britain soon realized that a major disaster was developing that early morning. At 3:16 A.M., the Land's End Coastguard station requested help from the Southern Rescue Co-ordination Centre (SRCC) at Plymouth. The air force and naval officers at the SRCC were not at all surprised by the request; they had been monitoring the distress frequencies and the weather was deteriorating. They also knew that many yachts—just how many they were not sure—were out in the Western Approaches participating in the 605-mile Fastnet race. The SRCC ordered that search and rescue airplanes and helicopters be brought to readiness for takeoff at dawn at the Kinloss and Culdrose air bases.
First light came slowly on that wind-torn, overcast morning, but by 5:30, the Culdrose Naval Air Station, near Helston in Cornwall, was vibrating with the whirl of blades and the whine of turbine engines. The first helicopter lifted off at 5:35, manned by the standby crew that is always within a few minutes of the base. Fifteen minutes later, another helicopter was aloft; its pilot and airmen had been called in from summer leave. Those two were followed by six more, some borrowed from bases as far away as Prestwick, Scotland.
By 6:30, three helicopters and a Nimrod search and rescue airplane, from Kinloss, were over the Western Approaches. Warm and dry, the helicopter crews monitored the radios and peered down at the broiling water, searching for yachts in trouble. Two hundred feet below them, in much less comfort, the crews of the lifeboats, of the fisheries protection vessel HMS _Angelsey_ , and of the Dutch frigate _Overijssel_ (the guard ship for the race since no British ship had been available) squinted through the stinging spray and cold, driving wind. Far above flew the Nimrod, which, with her battery of radios and tracking devices (its military function is to trace submarines), assumed the job of on-scene search commander. Its radios, with a range far greater than any of those below, were picking up panic-stricken voices from all over the Western Approaches. The distress calls overlapped with each other and gave confusingly similar messages: was it one boat or were there ten that had capsized, been dismasted, lost rudders or crews? And where were they? With twenty thousand square miles to cover, and with poor visibility, the rescuers were almost helpless.
For a while, only good luck brought the rescuers to the yachts in trouble. When they arrived, the helicopter crews discovered that many, if not most, of the crews wanted to abandon ship immediately. The helicopter crews are experts at their business, and their ability is legendary in Great Britain. In all of 1978, air-sea rescue helicopters based at Culdrose had saved one hundred and fifty people from sinking boats and ships, beaches, and cliffs.
"Can we be taken off?" a man in the French yacht _Tarantula_ radioed to a helicopter.
"It won't be easy," the pilot responded.
Her crew thought _Tarantula_ was sinking; they felt they had to abandon. Because the mast of the wildly rolling yacht was a menace to the retrieving cable, the airmen, hovering forty feet overhead, indicated that they could only pick people out of the water. One sailor quickly jumped overboard and swam away from the yacht. The helicopter crew dropped the cable and rescue harness to him, and, in his bulky life jacket, he struggled to fit into the sling as waves broke over him. After twenty minutes, he signaled to the airmen, who winched him up. Secured to the cable only by his tightly clenched hands, the sailor skimmed through the thirty-foot waves and was blown through a great arc by the sixty-knot wind until he was hauled into the chopper's cabin. Understandably discouraged by their shipmate's experience, the remainder of _Tarantula_ 's crew decided to stay on board and risk sinking.
Shuttling back and forth from their base to the maelstrom, the helicopters were to rescue seventy-four sailors. Despite their extraordinary efforts, the airmen could not find a yacht named _Grimalkin._ By midmorning on Tuesday, the SRCC knew that more than three hundred yachts crewed by almost three thousand sailors were caught in the storm. Many boats were never heard from, either because they did not have radios or because they were lucky and safe. Others sent out distress calls and were quickly located; a few unfortunate boats radioed Mayday and were not found until they were beyond help.
At 6:00 A.M. Tuesday, a coastguard broadcast said, "Yacht _Grimalkin_ capsized in position thirty miles north-west of Land's End." Before dawn, _Grimalkin_ had sent out a Mayday and a position, and the message had been relayed to Land's End by a larger yacht (perhaps the seventy-seven-foot round-the-world racer _Condor of Bermuda_ ). At 6:30, Culdrose told a helicopter with the call sign Wessex-520 to fly over the reported position on its way to the Isles of Scilly, where five yachts were said to have dragged their anchors and gone ashore. Wessex-520 found nothing at "position thirty miles north-west of Land's End" and returned to Culdrose to refuel. At about the same time, the coastguards (which serve as the first alert in the British maritime rescue system) asked the St. Ives, Cornwall, lifeboat to launch in search of _Grimalkin._ En route to the reported position, the lifeboat was directed by the Nimrod airplane to the French yacht _Azenora II_ , which was participating not in the Fastnet race but in a race for single-handed sailors from Ireland to Brittany. The lifeboat towed the little yacht and her one-man crew to St. Ives.
At 7:15, another Wessex helicopter, number 521, lifted off from Culdrose with orders to search for _Grimalkin._ About an hour later, its pilot reported, "Am not in communication with anyone. Returning to Culdrose." Clearly, _Grimalkin_ was not in the position she had reported. Soon, a new position was given by somebody who had seen her in the middle of the Western Approaches: 50º50' north, 6º50' west— _sixty-five_ miles northwest of Land's End.
Culdrose once again dispatched Wessex-520 to find _Grimalkin_ and, if necessary, rescue her crew. But the helicopter first came across the dismasted and sinking yacht _Magic_ , whose distress had been reported as early as 5:00 A.M. At about 10:30, _Magic_ 's five crew members were hauled into the helicopter and flown to Culdrose, where they were taken to the sick bay, given hot baths, and put to bed.
A bit later, a Sea King-type helicopter, larger and faster than the Wessex type, picked three men out of a life raft. They said they had abandoned _Grimalkin_ , leaving behind two dead or dying companions.
Meanwhile, Wessex-527 was flying three- and four-hour sorties out into the Approaches, returning to Culdrose for periods as brief as five minutes to refuel, change crews, and disembark survivors. At 11:20, the helicopter approached _Camargue_ , a thirty-four-foot English sloop whose crew had endured a fearsome battering. At 8:45 A.M., she had been smashed by a wave that threw all men on deck overboard. Two were rolled back on deck by the same wave, but Wilf Gribble, who had been steering, was left hanging upside down over the transom, tangled in lifelines that had been broken under the impact of his flying body. Gribble crawled back aboard.
An hour later, a huge wave broke on her deck, threw Gribble and the steering wheel he was holding overboard, and rolled _Camargue_ completely over, where she remained for several seconds before righting herself. Gribble again climbed back aboard over the transom, and he helped retrieve another man who was dragging in the water at the end of the rope tether of his safety harness. Arthur Moss, the boat's owner, was pulled through the water with such force that some of his clothes and his wristwatch were torn off.
_Camargue_ 's crew had had enough; Moss sent a Mayday over marine radio. When the helicopter arrived, the men, realizing that they could not be picked off the yacht, went into the water one after another—some voluntarily, others pushed by Moss. As one man later said, "The idea of jumping in was appalling," but there was no other way to get off the yacht, which seemed to be foundering. Wessex-527 retrieved the men one at a time.
With the eight men of _Camargue_ 's crew on board, the helicopter returned to Culdrose, refueled, and was back in the air fifteen minutes later. After several hours of fruitless searching, she refueled at the British Airways helicopter base on St. Mary's, in the Isles of Scilly, and headed west once more to resume the search.
Again short of fuel, Wessex-527 approached a racing yacht named _Golden Apple of the Sun._ An Irish boat (her name is from a poem by Yeats), she was one of the stars of the 1979 yacht racing summer. With a crew that included a three-time Olympic yachting medalist, Rodney Pattison, and her celebrated designer, Ron Holland, this forty-three-footer was a member of the three-boat Irish team competing in the Admiral's Cup, an unofficial world championship of ocean racing that includes the Fastnet as its major race. Coming into the Fastnet race, the Irish had been leading the eighteen other competing countries, but the race had been their undoing. One member of the Irish team, _Regardless_ , had lost her rudder, and now _Golden Apple of the Sun_ was also rudderless. Early that morning, the cables had jumped off the rudder quadrant, and the crew had lowered the sails for two hours to make repairs. They got under way again, but a couple of hours later, Ron Holland, who was at the helm, completely lost control. The rudder had broken off.
**The helicopter drops a hook to an airman and a _Camargue_ crew member.** _Royal Navy_
The crew had planned for such an emergency. They screwed a metal plate to the end of the spinnaker pole and hung the pole over the stern to serve as an emergency tiller. But the spinnaker pole almost immediately broke. Depressed as only a sure winner-turned-loser can be, the wet, cold crew hung on to the violently rolling boat. They were made no happier by hearing a radio report that a man was lost and presumed drowned from another racing yacht, _Festina Tertia._
A helicopter, Wessex-527, appeared on the horizon, quickly approached, and hovered overhead. By radio, its pilot told _Golden Apple of the Sun_ 's owner, Hugh Coveney, that he would have to make up his mind quickly about abandoning. With the Scilly Isles only forty miles to leeward, Coveney decided to go ashore and charter a powerboat to return to tow _Golden Apple_ to port. Some of the crew disagreed, but the navigation lights were turned on, a radar reflector was hoisted, and bumpers were hung over the side. This was partly to protect her against collision with other vessels, partly to discourage would-be salvagers, who by law could lay claim to the yacht if her crew abandoned her with no plans to return.
Coveney decided to paddle out from the boat in the life raft. Its CO2 cartridge was triggered, but the raft inflated only partially. When it was dropped in the water, its bowline immediately parted, but a crew member managed to grab it before it drifted away. The entire ten-man crew did not fit into the raft, so some men had to lie across others. When they were all aboard, the raft did not float away from _Golden Apple_ , which threatened to roll over on its awkwardly seated crew. Seeing this risk, the helicopter's diver, Leading Aircrewman Smiler Grinney, dropped down from the Wessex, swam over, and pulled the near awash raft away from the yacht, and the pilot helped by aiming the downdraft between the vessels. The sailors were hauled, one by one, into the helicopter.
_Grimalkin_ still had not been found as the eighteen men rescued by Wessex-527 and the dozens more picked up by the seven other helicopters recovered from their ordeal in the Culdrose sick bay. When Sea King-590 took off at 6:30, it was on one of the last missions of the day. It had flown down from Prestwick, Scotland, Tuesday morning. This was the first mission for one of her two winchmen, Peter Harrison, a twenty-year-old midshipman who had only recently completed two years of training in air-sea rescue.
After two hours of patrolling, the crew spotted a dismasted white yacht with a black transom on which was written: " _Grimalkin_ , Southampton, RAFYC." Two motionless men were sprawled in her cockpit. Peter Harrison stepped into the sling, and in his helmet, overalls, life jacket, and emergency pack, which included an uninflated two-man life raft, he was lowered to the yacht by the winch operator. _Grimalkin_ rose on a wave to meet him, and he hit her deck with a bone-crushing thud.
Harrison picked himself up and looked around the deck of the wildly rolling yacht. She was a mess, with bits of mast, rigging, and sails strewn everywhere. He turned to the two men and told them that they had little time: it was getting dark, the helicopter could not wait, they had to abandon now.
One of the men, the younger one, seemed not to be listening. With tears pouring down his cheeks, he said, over and over again, "I must get my clothes." The other man, lying in the bottom of the cockpit, said nothing. It took a moment for Harrison to realize that the other man was dead.
## **2** **GRIMALKIN: An Orderly Boat, a Disorderly Storm**
**_Grimalkin_ racing under number-2 jib and single-reefed mainsail in a force 5 (seventeen- to twenty-one-knot) breeze before the Fastnet race.**
**T** HE ABANDONMENT OF _Grimalkin_ was also the abandonment of high hopes. David Sheahan, her owner, was one of thousands of middle-class people who were attracted to the sport of ocean racing, looking for escape from the pressures of organized, professional life ashore. Fastnet race fleets had doubled in size since the late 1960s, and the sport boomed everywhere as more disposable income and leisure time became available to an increasing number of people. Away from land for several days at a time, fighting the weather and the sea in relatively small sailboats, men and women could regain touch with the satisfactions of working together in a natural environment—satisfactions that were a part of normal everyday existence before work became stratified, individualized, and air-conditioned.
The virtues of the discomfort of an ocean-racing yacht—wet clothes, lack of sleep, bunk sharing, and the constant pressure to outrace frequently invisible competitors—are difficult to explain yet addictive. For the men and women who keep returning to the Fastnet and other long-distance races until they are on the verge of old age, the lure is not the hope of winning trophies. Perhaps the sport provides a means of rediscovering some lost part of their primitive nature, unsullied by civilized life. In the 1970s, yachting went through a technological revolution as space-age materials and electronic instruments found their way into boats that were becoming increasingly fast and difficult to sail well. Many younger sailors seemed to respond to these challenging developments with the enthusiastic delight of racecar drivers and mechanics first encountering turbocharged engines, and the satisfactions of sailing in an ocean race may have been less important in their minds to the pleasures of winning. Yet for the twenty-seven hundred or so people in the 1979 Fastnet race, the attractions of the sport were the same ones that had encouraged ninety men to sail in nine yachts in the first Fastnet race, in 1925.
Like a great many of the people in the 303 boats that started the Fastnet race on August 11, David Sheahan had only recently discovered ocean racing. An accountant in his early forties, he had raced in dinghies and other day-sailing boats for many years before buying _Grimalkin._ Thirty feet long, she was almost the minimum size for most of the important distance races sailed off England, but she had a pedigree. Her designer was Ron Holland, in the past five years probably the most successful architect of ocean-racing yachts. She was built of fiberglass by the distinguished English firm of Camper and Nicholsons. Her shape, construction, rigging, and equipment were as modern as those of most of her competitors. Sheahan did his best to supplement his boat's inherent speed and strengths with careful organization for the many races he entered. Some boat owners set aside the conscious, orderly sides of their natures when they make the transition from work to pleasure, but he approached yachting with the same attention to detail that he showed in his profession.
The six-page memorandum that Sheahan sent to his crew before the Fastnet race began with a description of the course. The race would start in the early afternoon on August 11 off the Royal Yacht Squadron, at Cowes, on the Isle of Wight. The course was 605 miles long: from Cowes down the southwest coast and around Land's End; across the Western Approaches and around Fastnet Rock, which lies eight miles off the southwest tip of Ireland; then back to England and around the Isles of Scilly and on to the finish at Plymouth. _Grimalkin_ would sail in Class V, reserved for the smallest boats, and she might be at sea for more than six days.
Sheahan then reported that the safety gear, which included a rubber life raft inflatable by a CO2 cartridge, flares, and equipment to aid in the rescue of crew members who had gone overboard, would be examined by Camper and Nicholsons. They would also make a repair to the yacht's rudder. He planned to carry six gallons of diesel fuel, enough to run the engine for twenty-four hours in order to charge batteries and "to give ourselves a safety margin in case of problems." And, he wrote, "The insurance of the boat and its contents (i.e., the crew) has been extended to take in this race, which is beyond our normal cruising ( _sic!_ ) limits." _Grimalkin_ never went on cruises, and her normal insurance applied only near her home waters, on the Solent near Hamble. Sheahan then discussed safety. Although the first-aid kit would be "upgraded to a more suitable level for this event," each crew member was responsible for his own special medication. He recommended that each make an appointment for a prerace dental checkup, and flatly reported that nobody on board had special medical training.
**The 605-mile Fastnet race course. Shown are the main headlands and turning points. On the way out to Fastnet Rock, the Isles of Scilly may be passed on either side, but on the way back from the Western Approaches, they must be passed to the south.**
Since space was limited in the little boat (food would be stored in clothing lockers), everybody was expected to bring aboard only one duffel of sailing clothes. Shore clothes, Sheahan ironically noted, would not be necessary "as we will break with our normal tradition and not dress for cocktails or dinner."
As for provisions, Sheahan expected the crew to share equally in the cost of food, for which he and a crew member, Gerry Winks, would shop. Although he had increased _Grimalkin_ 's water capacity to twenty-five gallons, Sheahan wrote, washing and cooking would be done in sea water, and to provide a reserve for emergencies, fresh-water consumption would be limited to three gallons a day. He asked the crew to notify him if there were special dietary problems.
Continuing with his concern about emergencies, Sheahan noted that he planned to talk daily over marine radio with his wife, who would be able to transmit any messages to families. "It might not always be possible," he cautioned, "so make sure that your family, etc., won't worry unduly if there is no news to pass on."
Taking almost an entire page, Sheahan detailed the crew assignments. He would be skipper and navigator; Gerry Winks would be second in command; Mike Doyle would back Sheahan up "to ensure that in all circumstances we have a navigator"; his seventeen-year-old son, Matthew, would be in charge of the foredeck and sail changes; Nick Ward would trim the spinnaker; and Dave Wheeler would help Matthew on the foredeck. They would all take turns steering and cooking. _Grimalkin_ 's watch system, described in the memorandum in a two-page chart, had two men on deck at all times. Each of the five men who stood watch (Sheahan would be busy navigating) would alternate four hours on deck and four hours below, and during the race each would take one twelve-hour period off the watch schedule to cook.
Sheahan ended his memorandum with instructions to be aboard _Grimalkin_ at 8:00 A.M. on the eleventh and with a final reminder: "We have maintained a high standard of personal safety on board, let's retain it for this event."
Although no skipper preparing for the Fastnet race should have been unaware of the potential for bad weather—strong winds often are as much a part of sailing off the English coast as light winds are prevalent on Long Island Sound in America—Sheahan's relative lack of experience may have made him more cautious than many Fastnet race veterans. The previous three races, in 1973, 1975, and 1977, had been sailed in light winds and calms in which the main worry had been food and water shortage, not first-aid equipment.
Safety harnesses that restrain crew members from being flung overboard, life jackets and life rafts, fire extinguishers, first-aid kits, emergency rations—all were required of Fastnet race entrants by the sponsor, the Royal Ocean Racing Club (RORC). Yet a man who worries about whether his crew will suffer toothaches is not a man to take chances. The RORC did not require Sheahan to carry a radio transmitter. A receiver capable of picking up marine weather broadcasts was the only radio that _Grimalkin_ and most of the other Fastnet entrants had to have aboard. (The exceptions were the fifty-seven boats in the Admiral's Cup competition, which were required to carry transmitters. In 1979, the Admiral's Cup, an international championship for ocean racers sailed biennially in Fastnet race years, included three-boat teams from nineteen nations, among them the United States, Poland, Hong Kong, Brazil, Ireland, Australia, and Great Britain.) Even though he was not required to do so, Sheahan equipped _Grimalkin_ with three very high frequency (VHF) marine radio transmitters and receivers, two of which were powered by the boat's battery, and one of which could be used in a life raft if necessary.
Sheahan also went beyond the regulations to equip his boat with jackwires along the decks and in the cockpit (in nautical parlance, "jack" means "utility"). In rough weather, his crew could hook the snap hooks at the end of the six-foot tethers on their safety harnesses to these wires so they would be securely attached to the boat as they worked on deck or sat in the cockpit. The racing regulations required only that _Grimalkin_ be equipped with lifelines running fore and aft two feet above each rail, suspended on stainless-steel posts called stanchions. Both the stanchions and lifelines were vulnerable to damage by a broken mast or by a man thrown against them, and Sheahan felt that, in the worst possible situation, the jackwires were more dependable restraints against a man's being flung into the sea.
David Sheahan's concern for safety may have been motivated by knowledge that his crew was, in a way, flawed. Gerry Winks, the first mate, was arthritic, and Nick Ward, the sail trimmer, was an epileptic. Neither case was serious, and with the proper medication the two men were able to lead normally active lives. Yet doctors had advised Winks not to sail. He ignored that advice. At age thirty-five, Gerry Winks aspired to being a successful yachtsman with all the eagerness of a young boy hoping to score goals in a soccer World Cup. His spare time was devoted to boats: sailing in them, reading about them in books and yachting magazines, planning for the day when he could be skipper of his own ocean racer in a Fastnet race. "The Fastnet is either the beginning or the end," he told his wife before setting out in _Grimalkin._ "I'll know myself as a racing yachtsman after this." If he proved himself by meeting his own high standards in this race, he would try to join the crew of a larger boat, and then onwards until he could afford his own yacht—regardless of doctor's orders. But until then, he would do his best to help David Sheahan win in _Grimalkin._
When Nick Ward was sixteen, he suffered a neurological attack that left him partially paralyzed. Technically an epileptic, he had little or no feeling in his left side, although he was able, with medication, to stay active, ride his bicycle, and continue sailing dinghies. He took waterfront jobs in boatyards, marinas, and chandleries, and by the time he was twenty-four, he had helped deliver many yachts across the English Channel and the Bay of Biscay and had endured bad weather offshore. His knowledge, experience, seriousness, and intensity made him a valued member of racing crews. David Sheahan sought him out and asked him to come aboard _Grimalkin_ for the 1979 racing season. His only failing afloat was clumsiness in the galley. While cooking during a race in the Channel, he allowed a plastic spatula to melt in a frying pan. Sheahan, who knew the importance of barracks humor to a group of men under pressure, turned the incident into a running joke, announcing in the pre-Fastnet race memorandum that Ward was scheduled to take the first tour as cook just after the start "whilst we still have a packed lunch," and labeling the new spatula "The Nick Ward Memorial."
_Grimalkin_ 's crew members were in high spirits when they boarded her at Hamble, near Southampton, early in the warm, sunny morning of August 11. They stowed their seabags and cast off the dock lines, and as _Grimalkin_ made her way under power out toward Cowes, they sang loudly and waved cheerily to friends on the pier. Margaret Winks, Gerry's wife, was there to send them off, and the possibility of danger never crossed her mind as she watched the boat and her crew head off into the light south-west breeze.
**Like _Grimalkin_ and other boats in the race, Toscana was rigged with jackwiras that ran the length of each deck and a crew member could go all the way forward to the bow without having to unclip his safety harness**
**Since a crew member coming on deck is not sturdily supported, he should pass the tether and hook over the washboards to another crew member, who may hook it to a jackwire**
**The helmsman must be securely hooked to the jackwire. On many boats rolled during the night, helmsmen were thrown from the tiller or wheel right over the lifelines. This jackwire was permanently rigged in the cockpit on _Innovation_ , whose owner, Peter Johnson, here demonstrates its use.** _John Rousmaniere_
Class V was the first group to start from the line that extended from transits on the castlelike clubhouse of the Royal Yacht Squadron to an outer distance buoy over one mile out in the Solent, the narrow body of water that separates the Isle of Wight from the English mainland. Fifty-eight boats crossed the line in Class V, while the 245 larger boats in Classes O, I, II, III, and IV, and a flock of photographer, press, and spectator boats swarming about, somehow avoided collision. A strong tidal stream pushing the boats toward and over the starting line further confused the situation. Sheahan was not intimidated. _Grimalkin_ had an excellent start and held her own against larger boats as she tacked to windward, working her way toward the Needles, the chalk cliffs that guard the west end of the Solent.
The south-west wind held steady for the next two days, rarely blowing less than ten or more than fifteen knots as the massive fleet of racing yachts sailed as closely as they could in its direction, first on one tack and then, after a wind shift of a few degrees, on another. The sea was calm and the only discomfort was the minor annoyance of living in a world that was tilted twenty degrees. _Grimalkin_ encouraged her crew by continuing to sail near boats ten to fifteen feet longer and potentially much faster as most of the huge fleet sailed close along the English shore to try to avoid strong contrary currents. David Sheahan endured the bout of seasickness that often afflicts even highly experienced offshore sailors on their first day or so at sea. When he recovered, he used one of the radios to call a marine operator, who connected him to his home telephone, and he told his wife that they were comfortable and sailing fast.
Like most of the Fastnet race entries, _Grimalkin_ 's crew depended for weather forecasts on the British Broadcasting Corporation's four times daily shipping bulletin on the long-range Radio 4. The forecasts had been almost exactly the same since Friday: southwesterlies of force 4 to force 5, with the chance of a force 7 or force 8 gale near Fastnet Rock on Monday, the thirteenth. In the Beaufort scale of wind and sea conditions, used by most seamen and yachtsmen to describe the weather, force 4 ("Moderate Breeze") is an average of eleven to sixteen knots of wind (one knot is equal to 1.1 miles per hour), so the lower ranges of the forecast certainly were correct; only occasionally did the fleet feel the seventeen to twenty-one knots of wind of force 5 ("Fresh Breeze"). Force 7 ("Moderate Gale") and force 8 ("Fresh Gale") encompass wind strengths of between twenty-eight and forty knots, which every sailor in _Grimalkin_ and her competitors must have experienced at least once in their sailing careers, and, which, probably, they all desired for at least part of this Fastnet race.
The forecasts duly came at 12:15 A.M., 6:25 A.M., 1:55 P.M., and 5:50 P.M., and the wind and the barometer held steady at the relatively high pressure of 1020 millibars (30.1 inches), yet the thick fog that shrouded the boats most of Sunday was not evidence of the kind of stable fair weather that those indicators normally point to. The fog cleared away Sunday night and was replaced just after dawn on Monday by a flat calm. The air sat motionless between thick puffy clouds and a greasy sea undulating monotonously to the rhythms of the groundswell that rolls in soundlessly from the Atlantic. The groundswell is propelled by the southwesterlies that are ubiquitous except when a cell of low atmospheric pressure, called a depression, sweeps east from America to cancel out the effects of the great stable Azores high-pressure system. _Grimalkin_ rolled uncomfortably in these waves as her crew looked aloft for any indication of wind in the sails. After several hours, a breeze filled in quickly from a new direction—the north-east—and her crew soon had _Grimalkin_ decked out in a spinnaker to take advantage of the new wind from astern. As she cleared Land's End and stuck her bow out into the Western Approaches, she was propelled at eight knots, almost twice the speed she had been making on the two-day, 210mile leg into the wind down from Cowes.
Once again, the thirty-footer was staying even with larger boats, and her crew had every reason to feel satisfied. But for those who looked up into the western sky early Monday afternoon, there were other things to think about. The clouds were darkening to the point where Nick Ward thought them "terrific." The barometer had dropped slightly, to 1010 millibars (29.8 inches), and, with the strengthening wind that was slowly veering from north-east to east to south-east, there was reason to suspect that some bad weather was on the way. Yet the 1:55 P.M. BBC shipping bulletin for sea area Fastnet was: "south-westerly, force 4 or 5, increasing 6 or 7 for a time, veering westerly later. Occasional rain or showers." That said only that a depression would be passing through with no more wind than had previously been forecast, but with a shift in wind direction to the west. Despite the clouds and the groundswell, which seemed to be growing higher, there was little in the wind or over the radio frequencies to cause even the most cautious sailor to consider turning back and heading for a protected harbor.
**Start of the Fastnet race at Cowes. In a force 3 breeze, Claas II beats past spectator boats.** _William Payne_
By late Monday afternoon, the wind had shifted to the southwest and had increased to twenty knots, with occasional puffs of twenty-five. _Grimalkins_ crew doused her spinnaker, and, heading west-northwest toward Fastnet Rock, she burst over and sometimes through the swells at exhilarating speeds, under mainsail and genoa jib. At 5:50 P.M. the precise yet sympathetic voice of the BBC announcer presented the shipping bulletin, the relevant part of which was, "Mainly southerly 4 locally 6, increasing 6 locally gale 8, becoming mainly north-westerly later." He also located a depression two hundred and fifty miles west of the Fastnet area that the British meteorological office expected to pass to the north.
The six men in _Grimalkin_ were not surprised by this news, for it was not the first mention of a force 8 gale. Yet a forecast two hours later from another source painted a new and much more worrisome picture. At about 8:00 P.M., a French-language broadcast anticipated a force 8 to force 10 gale, with stronger gusts. Called a "Whole Gale" or "Storm" in the Beaufort scale, force 10 conditions are considerably more severe than force 8. Force 10's forty-eight- to fifty-five-knot winds are some twenty knots stronger, and its thirty-two- to forty-foot waves are as much as twice as high. Most significant is the violence of force 10 waves. The description in the Beaufort scale is "Very high waves with long overhanging crests. The resulting foam in great patches is blown in dense white streaks along the direction of the wind. On the whole the surface of the sea takes a white appearance. The tumbling of the sea becomes heavy and shocklike. Visibility affected."
The maelstrom described in those five sentences and phrases is entirely more vicious than a force 8 sea, in which there are "Moderately high waves of greater length [than force 7 waves]; edges of crests begin to break into spindrift. The foam is blown in well-marked streaks along the direction of the wind." Force 10 is to force 8 what stomach cancer is to gallstones.
David Sheahan and his crew knew the difference between force 10 and force 8, and the French broadcast worried them. _Grimalkin_ , it seemed, was now heading straight into a major storm. Another Fastnet race boat, later remembered as _Pegasus_ , also heard the forecast, and her crew called the Land's End Coastguard station over her marine radio to ask if the French had been correct. By the rules of yacht racing, this was illegal, since _Pegasus_ was soliciting outside help, but the action is understandable given the circumstances. The coastguards' response was that the BBC forecast was the correct one. Overhearing both the question and the answer, _Grimalkin_ 's crew breathed more easily. Yet the barometer had dropped to 995 millibars (29.4 inches), the wind had increased to thirty knots, the waves were building in size, and the boat was beginning to pound uncomfortably. The sun set at 8:26, its rays mostly hidden by low scuddy black clouds flying over water now broken by spray and whitecaps.
David Sheahan could not know that the French forecast had been accurate. _Grimalkin_ was about to rendezvous with a compact, violent storm that had traveled over five thousand miles in four days to sweep across the Western Approaches during the precise hours when those waters would be crowded with small racing yachts.
"Depressions are born, reach maturity, and then decline and die," the English weather specialist Ingrid Holford writes in _The Yachtsman's Weather Guide._ "They travel in their youth and stagnate in their retirement; some are feeble from birth and never make a mark on the world, while others attain a vigor which makes them remembered with as much awe as a hurricane." This storm had already made its mark.
The storm was born in the northern Great Plains of the United States, where hot air over baking wheat fields frequently tangles with cold Canadian air to produce tornadoes and violent thunderstorms. Often, these tiny, vicious depressions do their worst damage immediately and are quickly gone, their energy dissipated in wind, rain, and hail. But this storm had a force that kept it alive long after it dropped over an inch and a half of rain on Minneapolis, Minnesota, on Thursday, August 9. From there it headed east across northern Lake Michigan, upstate New York, and New England. Its greatest effects were to its south. On Friday, sixty-knot wind gusts blew the roof off a tollbooth on the New Jersey Turnpike and knocked down power lines and tree limbs, one of which killed a woman walking in Central Park, in New York City. That afternoon, severe wind and rain squalls swept across Connecticut and into Narragansett Bay, in Rhode Island, where the twelve-meter yacht _Intrepid_ was practicing for the 1980 America's Cup trials. One of her wire jib sheets broke and hit a crew member with such force that he thought his arm was broken. Nearby, seventy-eight boats competing in the world championship of the J-24 sailboat class were swept by unpredictable, violent gusts from the south-west and northwest. Three boats were knocked over until their masts touched the water. The boats finished the race under a black sky and made it safely into the protected harbor of Newport just before the Coast Guard issued an alert warning all sailors to seek shelter. Sheets of rain drenched the town, and a fifty-knot wind broke windows and threatened to blow over a large waterside tent. One sailor, Mary Johnstone, thought that this thirtyminute period of rain and wind was as wild as some of the hurricanes she had experienced during her many years of living in New England. That night, northwest squalls swept across the crowded harbors of the islands off southern New England, and dozens of yachts containing vacationers dragged their anchors. Moving east at speeds as high as fifty knots, the swirling cell of violent air was over Halifax, Nova Scotia, at about the time the Fastnet race started on Saturday, and was in the open Atlantic a day later.
So small and fast moving was the storm that meteorologists had difficulty keeping a precise track of it, and some of the weather maps compiled every six hours by the United States National Weather Service show it only as an area of low pressure and not as a distinct depression encircled by isobars, or lines of equal barometric pressure. The weather map published in British newspapers over the August 11–12 weekend identified the depression as "Low Y" that would "move quickly east and deepen" to cause the force 7 winds predicted for Monday.
In meteorologists' terminology, this was a "shallow" depression with an atmospheric pressure of about 1008 millibars (29.8 inches) at the lowest. A "deep" depression might have a pressure of less than 995 millibars (29.4 inches). Differences in atmospheric pressure are what create weather and, in particular, wind. Hot air and damp air are less dense than cool air and dry air. The less dense air has a lower pressure than the dense air and creates depressions in the atmosphere in the way a prolonged rainfall creates valleys and basins in a beach. Into these depressions pours cooler, more dense air from surrounding high-pressure hilltops or plateaus: the deeper the depression, the steeper the slope of the hill; the steeper the slope, the faster the air moves and the more wind there is.
Due to the earth's rotation, this flow of air from high to low pressure is not straight. The Coriolis effect curves the flow to the right, or counterclockwise, in the northern hemisphere and to the left in the southern hemisphere. In the northern hemisphere, air flows toward the center of a depression in the same way that water drains out of a sink, spinning in a counterclockwise direction as it works its way to the center. The deeper the depression, the more rapid the spin. The flow takes a different compass direction at each point on the spiral. To the north of a depression, the wind blows from the north-east; to the west, from the north-west; to the east, from the south-east; and to the south, from the south-west.
Depressions, unlike sinks, are usually in motion, being pushed from west to east by the prevailing westerlies created by the spin of the earth. A phenomenon of depressions is that when they move slowly they are relatively benign, but when they move rapidly they may be more dangerous than the differences of atmospheric pressure indicate. To put it another way, a fast-moving shallow depression may be more violent than a slow-moving deeper depression. Another phenomenon of depressions, especially the fast-moving ones, is that the winds on their lower half—the southern part of a depression moving east—may well be more violent than those on the upper half. In fact, sailors often speak of a storm's "dangerous quadrant," its lower righthand area. As people in New Jersey, New York, and Rhode Island already knew, the winds in the lower half of this particular fast-moving depression were exceedingly violent.
Between midday Sunday (as _Grimalkin_ sailed down the English Channel in the fog) and midday Monday (when the northeast wind filled in after the calm), the depression traveled eastnortheast at a speed of between twenty and forty knots, covering over eight hundred miles. To its south was the great Azores high, a mass of air with relatively high atmospheric pressures in the range of 1017 to 1034 millibars (30.0 to 30.5 inches). Air flowed down the slopes of this nearly stationary mid-Atlantic mound into the valleys of the low-pressure areas around it. The Coriolis effect of the spin of the earth redirected this air to the right, so that to the north of the Azores high a southwest wind was helping to push Low Y toward the north-east.
Conspiring with the high was a large depression of low-pressure air to the north that stretched almost one thousand miles from the latitude of Greenland to the latitude of northern Ireland. The depression had left the coast of Canada on Friday morning, the tenth, and had lumbered across the Labrador Banks, absorbing along the way two smaller depressions that had moved down from Greenland. On Sunday morning, August 12, the center of this depression was located about three hundred and fifty miles south-west of Reykjavik, Iceland. Called "Low X" on British weather maps (since it had been spotted earlier than the depression called Low Y), it had an atmospheric pressure of 990 millibars (29.2 inches) and perhaps a bit less in its center. The outer isobar of Low X, 1016 millibars (30.0 inches), stretched across the mid-Atlantic Ocean between the latitudes of fifty and sixty degrees north. The wind there also blew from the south-west.
Low Y had hitchhiked east on the westerlies of the Azores high and Low X. Born at the latitude of forty-five degrees, the depression had not moved south of forty-three nor north of forty-seven degrees during its quick trip across eastern America and the western Atlantic, and it would have made its European landfall in the Bay of Biscay if another factor had not appeared.
This factor was offered by Low X. Instead of continuing on its easterly course, Low X stopped moving. While it stalled for two days off the west coast of Iceland, Low Y overtook it and moved into the quadrant where southerlies and not westerlies blew. In the predawn hours of Monday, August 13, the dangerous little depression changed course and headed northeast, at first aimed west of Ireland on the well-worn path of many previous depressions. Once weather satellites had a look at it and computers could digest the limited amount of information that was radioed from a few ships in mid-Atlantic, the British forecasters realized at around noon on Monday that Low Y, swinging around Low X, would sweep across southern Ireland and the Western Approaches that night.
Unfortunately, the meteorological office came to this conclusion too late to provide a gale warning for the 1:55 P.M. BBC Radio 4 shipping bulletin, upon which almost all the Fastnet race sailors depended for their afternoon weather forecast. The forecasters did, however, issue for special broadcast a warning of an imminent force 8 gale for southern Ireland and the Fastnet area ("imminent" meaning within the next six hours) and for a force 8 gale expected soon at Lundy, the island at the mouth of the Bristol Channel and one hundred miles northeast of Land's End ("expected soon" meaning from six to twelve hours after the forecast).
**The path of Low Y from its start in Minnesota on August 10, until it died out north of Scotland on August 15. Low Y began to move north-eastwards toward Ireland only after it overtook Low X, which had stalled far to the north off Iceland. The westerlles created by Low X and by the Azores high (to the south) helped to push Low Y east at speeds as high as fifty knots. The arrows show wind direction. Times are Greenwich Mean Time.**
Made even more violent by cold air sweeping down into it from Low X, the depression slowed down and deepened on Monday afternoon, and the 5:50 shipping bulletin reported that it was about two hundred and fifty miles west of Fastnet Rock with a barometric pressure of 998 millibars (29.5 inches). Again too late for the shipping bulletin, which would not come on the air again until 12:15 A.M., the meteorological office at 6:05 P.M. released a new warning of imminent force 8 increasing to force 9 gales in the Fastnet area. If they had continuously monitored BBC's Radio 4 or if they had been within the limited range of and had been listening to one of four coastal radio stations using special frequencies, the sailors would have heard these gale warnings. But being human, they relied upon scheduled and predictable sources of information, and most of them had neither the time nor the inclination to monitor radios continuously. Furthermore, radios can be a drain on batteries that must also be used to provide power for navigation lights. (In the United States, many areas are covered by continuous marine weather forecasts, which are repeated every few minutes on special frequencies.)
At 8:50 P.M., the meteorological office issued revised gale warnings for mainland Ireland: the imminent force 9 winds would veer from south-west to west. The area that most concerned any racing sailors who heard the warnings was not mentioned again in new gale warnings until 10:45: "Fastnet: southwest severe gale force 9 increasing storm force 10 imminent."
**Satellite photographs on the following pages show the eastern North Atlantic at approximately 4:50 P.M. (British Summer Time) on Sunday, August 12 • Monday, August 13 • and Tuesday, August 14 • The Fastnet race course has been imposed. The photographs show Low X—the large swirl of clouds in the upper center—stalled off Iceland, and, to its south, Low Y approaching Great Britain and swinging across Scotland and over the North Sea. The second photograph was taken at about the time that weathermen realized that Low Y would sweep across the Fastnet fleet.** _U.S. National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration_
During its weather forecast that evening, BBC television showed a satellite picture of the Atlantic Ocean west of Ireland. The photograph was dominated by a clearly defined swirl of clouds curving north about three hundred miles south-west of Ireland. This was the front of the depression. Erroll Bruce, an experienced ocean-racing sailor who was sitting out this Fastnet race, took one look at the picture and telephoned his business partner Richard Creagh-Osborne to say, "They're in for it."
David Sheahan required neither a gale warning nor the satellite picture to come to the same conclusion. Between 9:00 and 10:00 P.M., the wind built rapidly while the barometer plummeted, and by 11:00 P.M. _Grimalkin_ was sailing at six knots under her tiny storm jib alone. Even a reefed mainsail was too much sail for this force 8 wind. Soon water started to come on deck while heavy rain drove down continuous and cold. The crew sealed off the cabin by placing the wooden slats, called washboards, in the companionway hatch, and rather than go below—where equipment, food, clothing, and bedding were flying everywhere as the boat rocked and rolled—all six men sat in the cockpit, their safety harnesses firmly hooked to the jackwires that Sheahan had so carefully installed. Gerry Winks steered _Grimalkin_ on port tack out into the blackness of the Western Approaches, holding a course about 20 degrees off the rhumb line of 330 degrees to Fastnet Rock—and (though they did not know it) almost directly into the path of the dangerous quadrant of the depression. On starboard tack, heading south instead of northwest, they would have been steering away from the storm but also from Fastnet Rock. Storm or no, this crew would continue toward their objective until the boat ceased making headway.
Gerry Winks tired quickly. At 3:00 A.M., exhausted and shivering, he went below, where dry clothes and some food took the edge off his hypothermia, the dangerous loss of body heat that comes from prolonged exposure to cold air or water. At the helm, Nick Ward thought that the high, steep waves and powerful wind were part of a scene from a surrealistic film. No sail was possible, and they were unable to stay on course under bare poles. David Sheahan wondered out loud what they should do to try to cope with the seas ("these blocks of flats but three times as wide," Nick Ward called them). They eventually decided to run before it, effectively abandoning the race, with the wind and the waves on their stern, towing ropes overboard to try to keep their speed down. Yet even with six hundred feet of line dragging over the stern, _Grimalkin_ was barely in control. She surfed wildly down the faces of the waves, like an elevator cut loose from its cable, and threatened to pitchpole, or somersault over her bow. She once accelerated to over twelve knots and, tilting forward until she was almost vertical, plunged down the face of a huge wave. Ward at the helm and Mike Doyle, sitting next to him, frantically looked to port and starboard for a flat spot to aim for, a landing field on which to level out, but all around was broiling white foam and ahead was a black wall—the back of the next wave rising out of the narrow trough. _Grimalkin_ stuck her bow ten feet into the wall until her entire foredeck was buried three feet deep. The wall parted, and she shook off the tons of water and surfed off on another wave.
At least six times between 3:00 and 5:00 A.M. _Grimalkin_ spun broadside to the faces of such waves and was caught under the curl and rolled until her mast was in the water. Each time, all six men were thrown out of the cockpit and left dangling by their safety harness tethers in the water or wrapped around the lifelines and backstay. A one-hundred-and-fifty-pound man generates a force of more than three thousand pounds when he is thrown twelve feet. The safety harnesses and jackwires withstood those loads, but the men themselves took a fearful beating.
On the fifth knockdown, Ward, who was still steering, was thrown entirely across the cockpit, over the lifelines, and into the water with his left leg tangled in the harness tether. As David and Matthew Sheahan dragged him aboard, Ward felt an unfamiliar sensation: his left leg hurt. He had not felt pain in that limb since the neurological attack eight years earlier. The leg, he decided, must have been broken when he hit the lifelines. He half sat, half lay in the cockpit while some of the men around him tensed themselves against the pounding waves and the driving wind simply to remain aboard a yacht that fell out from under them every time a wave passed.
David Sheahan slid open the companionway hatch and went below to radio for help. He reported their assumed position to _Morningtown_ , the RORC's escort yacht, and he hoped that she would send it on to the coastguards. He soon reported to the men in the cockpit that spotter airplanes and helicopters were on the way. Mike Doyle attempted to light flares but he was unfamiliar with the ignition procedure and they merely fizzled into the sea.
Sheahan came back on deck just in time to be slung into the lifelines when _Grimalkin_ was knocked flat once again. When the weight of her keel rolled her back upright, he lay in the cockpit, his head badly cut. The crew helped him below, where his son, Matthew, sprayed antiseptic into the wound. Seeing that the cabin was almost totally wrecked—the radios, chart table, engine housing, and companionway ladder were destroyed—they returned to the cockpit, which, though exposed, seemed safer than the shattered interior. In their inflated life jackets and safety harnesses, the six men huddled together for warmth and protection. Nick Ward's leg was causing him great pain, and Sheahan and Winks were dazed and frequently unconscious from their injuries and from hypothermia. Eventually, Winks was lowered to the cockpit sole where, at the others' feet, he had some degree of refuge.
The next knockdown was the worst. _Grimalkin_ was capsized, rolled right over by a giant breaker. David Sheahan was trapped under the cockpit as the boat lay upside down. To free him, his crew cut his safety harness tether, and when the boat finally righted herself after half a minute or more, he drifted away helplessly, never to be seen again.
_Grimalkin_ was dismasted in the capsize and her broken mast and rigging and boom now cluttered her deck. The five survivors dragged themselves back through the lifelines and rigging into the cockpit, where Nick Ward collapsed. Gerry Winks rolled, unconscious, on top of him.
Matthew Sheahan, Mike Doyle, and Dave Wheeler talked over their situation and decided that _Grimalkin_ was not safe. She was half full of water and wallowing dangerously, and in the gray morning light the seas seemed even more violent than they had before dawn. The skipper, Matthew's father, had been swept away to a sure death before their eyes, and their shipmates lay unconscious at their feet. They pulled the rolled-up, uninflated life raft out from its storage locker under the cockpit sole, pulled the line that triggered the CO2 bottle, and watched the bundle of rubber raft inflate. A close look convinced them that if Winks and Ward were not dead, they soon would be, and that in either case they could never be dragged into the raft. Taking off their safety harnesses, they climbed gingerly into the life raft and pushed themselves away. The time was about 8:00 A.M.
The life raft turned out to be not much more reassuring than _Grimalkin_ had been. Almost covered by the canopy, the three young men could barely see outside, and could only await help as they bailed out water thrown in by the waves. Yet rescue was only an hour in coming. A Sea King helicopter hovered overhead and dropped a wet-suited airman on a wire. As the airman in the water secured one man at a time in a harness, the winchman aloft let out slack in the wire and the pilot backed the helicopter downwind and rose well above the waves to stay away from the salt spray that might clog its turbines. When the airman in the water waved an "all ready," the pilot, flying blind because he could not see the raft, moved the machine slowly forward under instructions from the winchman in the cabin. The pilot elevated and dropped his helicopter in tune with the steep waves monotonously rolling down at him from the horizon, all the while following the winchman's instructions: "Six feet left, four forward . . . right over." The winchman pushed a button and _Grimalkin_ 's survivors were fished out of the sea, one by one.
With all three yachtsmen on board, the Sea King set off in search of another life raft. When two survivors of a yacht named _Trophy_ had been lifted aboard, the helicopter swung east. A few minutes later, the five exhausted, cold men were in the sick bay of the Royal Naval Air Station at Culdrose.
Neither _Grimalkin_ nor the half-dead men in her cockpit received any grace after being abandoned by the others. She was rolled over once again. Nick Ward regained consciousness to find himself under water, his arms and legs tangled in stays and lines, his head being banged by the hull. He struggled to the surface, untangled himself, and painfully crawled up into the boat through a gap left in the lifelines by the destruction of two stanchions. From the cockpit, he saw Gerry Winks dragging overboard. Wrapping Winks's tether around a winch, he slowly winched his shipmate aboard. Winks was still alive. Using artificial respiration, Ward pumped water out of and breathed air into Winks's lungs, but the combined effects of the cold, exhaustion, and his own physical disability were fatal. Winks whispered, "If you see Margaret again, tell her I love her," and died.
Twenty-four-year-old Nick Ward was now alone with a dead man in a wrecked boat in a gale, without either a life raft or a functioning radio. His leg pained him and was possibly fractured and his back and shoulders ached from the beating that he had taken. His only course of action was to try to keep _Grimalkin_ afloat and to hope for rescue. He staggered below, where everything was either shattered or afloat in the water. Even moving around in the cabin was dangerous, since the floorboards were floating, and loose food, broken crockery, and pieces of equipment continued to fly about as the boat rolled. David Sheahan had set aside four buckets for emergencies, but three had disappeared during the knockdowns and capsizes, leaving only the smallest for Ward to bail with. He established a schedule of one hour for bailing and thirty minutes off for rest in a wet and sometimes half-submerged bunk.
The bailing seemed to make no progress. He wondered if the transducer, the speedometer sensor projected through the hull, had fallen out. More likely, the gallons of water that had accumulated in shelves, drawers, sleeping bags, and clothing were now dripping down into the bilge.
**_Grimalkin_ , 8:00 P.M. Tuesday.** _Royal Navy_
**Airman Peter Harrison looks up at the helicopter from _Grimalkin_ 's deck as Nick Ward waits to be lifted up. The well In the forward cockpit housed the life raft, which was Inflated some twelve hours earlier by the three men who abandoned the boat, leaving Ward and Gerry Winks. The large snaphooks In the bottom right-hand corner are at the ends of the tethers of two safety harnesses and are hooked to a jackwire running from the cockpit to the bow. The lifelines have been cut by the broken mast.** _Royal Navy_
Whatever emotions he felt were focused on survival. His shock at Gerry Winks's death and the horror of realizing that he had been left behind by his shipmates were, he decided, subordinated to the energy he needed to survive. His great frustration was that the three who had abandoned _Grimalkin_ were not on board to help him save her and, when the storm had subsided, to sail her to port under an emergency rig. Except for the small transducer hole, the hull seemed sound enough, and, Ward thought, there was a way to step a jury mast once the wind and sea calmed. But he could never do it alone. He held no personal grudge against the three. Rather he was angry at them for giving up on the boat.
To gain better access to the bilge, he ripped out two bunks and tossed sails and equipment forward into a pile. Rummaging through the debris in the lockers, he found some milk. He could not, however, locate his medicine, which he was meant to take every four hours. The doctors had said that he could do without it for perhaps a day, but no longer. He had last taken the medicine Monday night, nearly twelve hours before.
As Ward tried to keep to his schedule, estimating time because his watch had stopped, the sky cleared to an almost cloudless cold blue. The wind had shifted into the north-west and was chilling. It continued to blow very hard until midafternoon. The waves, which more than the wind had caused the capsizes, lengthened out. They were just as high as the night before, if not higher, but they were much less steep. Where they had broken and fallen on _Grimalkin_ with fearful regularity, they now rolled under her relatively harmlessly. Nick Ward bailed and napped, bailed and napped all afternoon.
Sometime around 6:00 P.M., he heard an airplane pass close overhead. By the time he had scrambled into the cockpit, the plane had disappeared. To avoid a recurrence of that disappointment, he remained in the cockpit, securing his weary, hurting body next to Gerry Winks's corpse with his safety harness and the mainsheet.
Another yacht soon appeared out of the waves. Ward was able to attract her attention with blasts on a foghorn. Although they had no transmitter, her crew fired off several flares that attracted the attention of a third yacht, which radioed a request for assistance. As dusk began to fall over the Western Approaches, Nick Ward saw a helicopter come at him rapidly from the east. The helicopter swung up and hovered forty feet overhead, and a man dropped quickly from the door on its right side onto the dismasted _Grimalkin_ 's deck. Weeping with relief, Ward helped the airman secure Wink's body to the harness. After the corpse was hauled into the helicopter, the harness dropped down again. Talking barely coherently, Ward told the airman to wait. "I must get my clothes from below," he said. But the airman told him it was too late, that _Grimalkin_ was sinking. As they were hauled through the air to the helicopter, Nick Ward looked down at the now truly abandoned sloop and quietly thanked her for providing refuge. He also thought how sad it was that nobody had stayed behind to help him keep her afloat.
## **3** **TOSCANA: To the Western Approaches**
**_Toscana_ during the Cowes Week force 9 gale on Thursday, August 9. Forty-eight feet in length, she was designed by Sparkman and Stephens, New York, and built in Finland by Nautor. She was raced across the Atlantic in July 1979 by her owner, Eric Swenson, for Cowes Week and the Fastnet race. Here, she is carrying her storm spinnaker and double-reefed mainsail.** _Louis Kruk_
**L** ONGER FOREKNOWLEDGE of the approach of Low Y probably would not have decreased the havoc caused by the storm in the Western Approaches. We in _Toscana_ , an American forty-eight-foot sloop whose home port was Westport, Connecticut, had come too far to drop out of this Fastnet race simply because of a few warnings about bad weather, and I don't believe that David Sheahan would have stopped racing before the conditions actually deteriorated to the point where survival was the overriding consideration. Of the two dozen or so other boats in the Fastnet fleet that lost men overboard, suffered incapacitating damage, or were abandoned by their crews, perhaps one or two—but no more—might have run for shelter if the "Fastnet, force 10" warning had been made during the BBC Radio 4 shipping bulletin early on Monday morning. The challenge of sailing through rough weather is indisputably one of the attractions of ocean racing. Whether or not the challenge has been compromised by the death and destruction that occurred in the Fastnet race gale, it was pure and golden to the men and women who started the race at Cowes on August 11, 1979.
This summer gale, packing all the violence of a midwinter North Atlantic storm, could not have appeared at a more unlucky moment. If it had arrived a day earlier, most of the boats would have been within sight of the safe harbors indenting the English Channel, where they might have found shelter before the wind abated sufficiently for them to continue racing. And twelve or fifteen hours later, the smaller, more vulnerable boats would have been within easy reach of the safe ports along the south-east coast of Ireland.
Attacked by surprise, at night, halfway between England and Ireland, most of the fleet had to rely only on seamanship and luck. For many crews, neither was sufficient. At its worst, the gale was fiercer than any storm ever experienced by the overwhelming majority of the sailors caught in it.
Since it was first sailed in 1925, the Fastnet race has been one of the major goals of racing yachtsmen throughout the world. Other ocean races are longer (transatlantic and Honolulu races run more than two thousand miles) or, if the same length, cover more blue water (unlike the Fastnet, which runs along a coast for almost half its length, the Bermuda race is across part of an open ocean), but the Fastnet race is the international standard of ocean yacht racing. Alfred F. Loomis, historian of the sport, called the Fastnet "the Grand National of ocean racing." That Loomis, an American, referred to an English and not an American horse race is no coincidence. Until quite recently in the United States, yachting has been the preserve of white Anglo-Saxon Protestants who, like Loomis, tend to evaluate their institutions by English standards.
I myself am almost purely WASP, despite my French name (and it is probably Huguenot, anyway). A French commissary worker helping out during the American Revolution left the name in Newport, Rhode Island, when he sailed home in 1783. His only American son, Lewis, was a successful Newport publisher until he invested in merchant ships. They were soon unlucky in meeting their schedules, and Lewis, finding himself bankrupt at age thirty-seven, slit his throat with a shoemaker's knife. One of Lewis's sons, William, "followed sea," according to a nephew. Nothing else is known of sailor William. Another son, John, became the foreman of the printing department of the _Boston Daily Advertiser._ Much is known of John. The family avoided the sea for three generations until my father became interested in sailboat racing and won junior and intercollegiate championships in the thirties. He passed that interest and some of his skill on to me. Though he never sailed in a Fastnet race, he had raced in Scotland and our library was full of British sailing books—in brief, although I challenged most WASP principles, I never questioned the dogma that yachting was best conducted in waters off the British Isles, and that ocean racing achieved its greatest fulfillment near Fastnet Rock.
Races across the Atlantic and to Bermuda, Nassau, Spain, and Baja California, races around the Florida Keys and the length of two Great Lakes, races up the east coast and down the west coast all passed, but the Fastnet remained the gleam in my eye. When I was thirty-five, Eric Swenson (another WASP) asked me to sail with him in 1979 on a transatlantic race to Ireland, a short Irish cruise, and then the Cowes Week series of five races off the Isle of Wight, followed by the Fastnet race. I hadn't the time for both parts of the schedule. Despite my affection for long offshore passages, in which the simple man-in-nature pleasures of living aboard are stretched out for weeks on end, I told Eric that I would be there for Cowes Week and, of course, the Fastnet.
"Impressive Cowes Week Had Its Dramas," ran a headline in the _Isle of Wight County Press_ on the eve of the start of the Fastnet race. It was an understatement. Over eight hundred boats raced daily off a single starting line, dodging press boats, the Royal Yacht _Britannia_ , ferries, and, sometimes, each other. One sailor broke his arm when a Brazilian boat rammed an Australian boat. Another Brazilian boat was holed and almost sunk by an Argentinian boat. A Belgian skipper died of a heart attack during one race, and, on another day, a Belgian crew member was dragged across a deck by a runaway sheet and knocked unconscious. Former prime minister Edward Heath's _Morning Cloud_ lost her rudder during the overnight Channel race and was later badly gouged by vandals while she sat at her mooring. In one race in heavy winds, two sailors on different boats were badly injured in the head by flying booms. One, a Japanese sailor, was carried off his boat at the end of the race, but the wound to an Englishman was so severe that he was immediately taken from his boat in a photographer's rubber dinghy, from which he was hoisted by an air-sea rescue helicopter and taken to a hospital. And during the last race of Cowes Week, sailed in a force 8 to force 9 gale, we in _Toscana_ picked up a man in mid-Solent from his capsized powerboat.
**Strong winds during Cowes Week had many of the racing boats out of control, especially on downwind legs under the press of large spinnakers. Here, the Polish Admiral's Cupper _Nauticus_ broaches to windward in a force 6 (twenty-two- to twenty-seven-knot) breeze.** _William Payne_
Whether random accidents or incidents in a pattern of omens, these events did not affect the start of the Fastnet race. A fleet of 303 yachts, the largest ever to enter the race, was sent off by the Royal Yacht Squadron's cannon at ten-minute intervals between 1:30 and 2:30 P.M. Saturday, August 11. There were six divisions, based on size of boat. The largest entrant was _Kialoa_ , John Kilroy's seventy-nine-foot sloop from Los Angeles, California. The smallest were two twenty-eight-footers, _Billy Bones_ , owned by two French sailors named Boudet and Seuly, and _Arkadina_ , owned by an Englishman named A.J. Boutle. The average boat was thirty-eight feet, two inches long and probably weighed about fifteen thousand pounds. Twenty-two countries were represented, among them most of the major European, North and South American, and Australasian nations. Nineteen of those countries had entered teams in the competition for the Admiral's Cup, considered by ocean-racing sailors to be their sport's unofficial world championship. Almost every one of the fifty-seven Admiral's Cuppers had been built within the previous eight months and was a highly refined, relatively lightweight, single-purpose racing boat. Going into the Fastnet race, Ireland was leading the Cup series with the United States, Australia, and Hong Kong (many of whose sailors were Englishmen with dual citizenship) trailing in that order. According to the fleet roster circulated before the start by the Royal Ocean Racing Club, 165 entrants were British, 55 were French, 16 were Irish, and 12 were American. The only entry requirements were that the boats have an International Offshore Rule rating, used for comparing boats of different sizes and characteristics against each other, of at least 20.1 feet and that they carry certain required safety equipment, including flares, life jackets, man-overboard floats, lights, a radio receiver, and a life raft. Virtually any cruising sailboat larger than twenty-eight feet might have qualified to sail in the race.
**A navy helicopter crew during the rescue of Harvey Bagnall during Cowes Week.**
**Bagnall, whose skull had been fractured by the boom of his Irish-owned yacht, is hoisted aloft while an airman stems the flow of blood. Bagnall was in a hospital within half an hour after his serious Injury.** _William Payne photographs_
Weather forecasts issued at Cowes on the eve and day of the start anticipated moderate to fresh winds over the succeeding three days, with a likelihood of strong winds by Tuesday. No boat or crew should have had any difficulty with those conditions, and, given the forecasters' reputation for occasional exaggeration, this forecast should not have deterred anybody from starting the race. However, it was (and still is) fair to assume that any crew that enters a six-hundred-mile race off the English coast is prepared for bad weather. Although recent Fastnet races had been sailed in light winds, the race has been considered a rough one from its genesis, in 1925.
Ocean racing—competition between sailing yachts over distances greater than two hundred miles—has been a popular sport only since the mid-1920s. Developing first in the United States, with long races across the Atlantic, to Hawaii, and on the Great Lakes, the sport as we know it today began with the 1923 race from New London, Connecticut, to Bermuda. Intrigued by the novel idea of racing long distances in small boats, English yachtsmen set about to found their own contest. The first Fastnet race was sailed in 1925, though not to unanimous approval. Many Englishmen thought their waters too dangerous for the requirements of racing, one of which is that the crew carries on in rough weather even to the point of risking damage to the boat. An influential critic was a yacht designer, Claud Worth, who counseled caution. A privately arranged race between two owners would be one thing, he wrote in the sporting magazine _The Field_ , "but a public race might very well include some owners whose keenness is greater than their experience. If the weather should be bad, so long as there is a head wind they would probably come to no harm, for a good boat and sound gear will generally stand as much driving as the crew can put up with. But when running before anything approaching a gale of wind and a big sea in open water, conditions are very deceptive. It requires much judgment to know whether a following sea has reached the dangerous stage. I have more than once been compelled very reluctantly to heave-to and watch a fair wind running to waste, and have soon after had reason to be very thankful that I was safely hove-to in good time.
"But if one had been racing one would probably have been tempted to carry on, knowing that some other competitor might take the risk. These conditions might not occur once in a dozen races, but the magnitude of possible disaster should be taken into account."
Worth knew his English weather. During the gale-torn 1931 race Colonel C. H. Hudson was swept overboard and lost from the fifty-one-foot cutter _Maitenes II_ , of which he was a part owner. Yet Worth's worries did not apply in this case. _Maitenes II_ was hove-to, her crew deciding not to risk running before a force 9 westerly gale, and Hudson apparently did not observe the old rule of keeping one hand for oneself and one hand for the ship. (This incident apparently was overlooked in 1979 when the press and the Royal Ocean Racing Club reported that the only prior fatality in the fifty-four years and twenty-eight runnings of the Fastnet race was a man who died of a heart attack in 1977.)
The 1957 race was the roughest Fastnet race before 1979. That gale was anticipated, however. In his book _Yacht and Sea_ , the Swedish yacht designer Gustav Plym described an abrupt conversation he had with the Royal Ocean Racing Club's commodore before the start. "Any last-minute orders?" Plym asked. "None whatever," answered the commodore. "There is a gale warning, but there is no real vice in it. Good luck."
The 1957 race started in a Channel gale that eventually built to force 9, and twenty-nine of the forty-one starters dropped out before reaching Land's End. The remainder of the race was relatively easy. On board Plym's _Elseli IV_ , "our experience gave us strength. . . . There was no thought of giving up—at least not in the skipper's mind, and whatever the crew may have thought they were too well disciplined to whisper a word about it." Plym described "high-breaking mountains of water" and "the screaming sound in the rigging" that was like "the shriek of a woman in despair." The motion of the boat was so wild, he wrote, that sleep was impossible and "it was a relief to be called on deck after a couple of hours." Another of the twelve finishers was a badly leaking American yawl, _Carina_ , whose owner, Richard S. Nye, said to his crew as she crossed the finish line at Plymouth, "All right, boys, we're over now. Let her sink." (Uttered within two miles of one of Britain's largest commercial ports, this jest has since been assigned the aura of gospel instruction by the few true masochists who sail.) _Carina_ had fallen off a wave, much the way a man might lose his footing on a log that rolls out from under him, and the impact of the nineteen-ton yacht dropping several feet had cracked some of her frames. _Carina_ won the race, as she had in 1955. American yachts have won eight of the twenty-eight Fastnet races.
"The seas were positively tumultuous," K. Adlard Coles wrote of the 1957 gale in his book _Heavy Weather Sailing_ , a study of bad storms that he and other racing sailors had survived. When I first read this book, I had nightmares about huge breakers, and survivors of the 1979 Fastnet were describing the waves they had encountered as being "just like those frightening pictures in Coles."
We were an experienced crew in _Toscana_ , which had just sailed a three-thousand-mile transatlantic race. Eric Swenson, her skipper and one watch captain, had raced her and his other boats in four Bermuda races, and I, the other watch captain, had covered over thirty thousand miles offshore in several boats. The navigator, Captain John Coote, Royal Navy (Retired), had raced in twelve Fastnets and several Bermuda and Australian races. We may have been one of the few boats in the race to have women standing watches. If she is quick and knowledgeable, a woman can be as helpful on deck as any man, although she may not be as strong. Susan Noyes had sailed all her life, and Sherry Jagerson had raced to Bermuda and to Ireland in _Toscana._ The least experienced racing sailor on board was Stuart Woods, an American writer, but even he had offshore experience, having sailed in a single-handed transatlantic race. The boat herself was well designed and stoutly built for offshore sailing. One of a type called the Swan 47, _Toscana_ was designed by the New York firm of Sparkman and Stephens and strongly built of fiberglass by a Finnish yard called Nautor. Her oversized rigging made the masts on the Admiral's Cup boats seem like fishing rods.
In many ways, _Toscana_ represented the old traditions of ocean racing, once a gentleman's sport in which a few hundred friends and acquaintances cruised in company with and raced against one another, year in and year out, in boats designed to go to sea. Over the previous half-dozen years, a group of young yacht designers, sailmakers, and builders had developed and crewed in a new breed of sophisticated and extremely fast boats for a generation of highly competitive owners. At the very top level of racing, the Admiral's Cup fleet, these owners bought and sold boats annually in order to keep up with developments in design and construction. In this nautical equivalent of Grand Prix automobile racing, the boats were shipped from country to country for a handful of important regattas. While there was no professionalism in the sport in the sense that winners receive cash prizes, there was a kind of semiprofessionalism in which boat and equipment manufacturers stood to gain in the long run when they and their products helped Grand Prix yachts win important races and regattas. The boats usually were financed by wealthy men whose fortunes derived from real estate, manufacturing, and other entrepreneurial enterprises. Most of them sailed in their boats, sometimes in command and sometimes as a privileged crew member; a few, like owners of race horses, were content to stay ashore. Built in some cases with experimental materials, rigged with the most sophisticated equipment, and nurtured with hundreds of thousands of dollars, these yachts were the Ferraris of the sport.
By comparison, _Toscana_ was a Mercedes-Benz. Her owner, who had raced production sports cars, had no desire to own one of those exotic boats. Although fast, many of the new racing machines were difficult to steer and often very uncomfortable. Excess weight was eliminated with passion: their galleys were skimpy, their toilets were separated from the living areas by a curtain (if at all), and their interiors had all the charm of the inside of an airplane's wing, with strengthening struts and structural members jutting into the bunks and living areas. Eric Swenson liked his comfort, and his _Toscana_ had a freezer in the galley, hot and cold running water, two enclosed toilets with showers, six built-in bunks (one a double berth), several lockers for hanging clothes, and enough teak and other hardwoods laid over the fiberglass to build a small, elegant house. Hanging on her stern was a swimming ladder, which Swenson justified by claiming that it was an excellent means for recovering men who had gone overboard, but which many Grand Prix skippers would have thrown right off the boat as excess weight. (Swenson might not have had a Grand Prix skipper of such seriousness on board to begin with; while he respected their talents and dedication, he felt that theirs was a different type of sport from his.)
**_Siska_ , a seventy-seven-footer that was shipped to England by her Australian owner, slams through a force 9 (forty-one- to forty-seven-knot) gale two days before the Fastnet race start under triple-reefed mainsail and forestaysail, the rig carried by _Toscana_ during the worst part of the Fastnet gale.** _Alastair Black_
**Their names inspired by a poem by William Butler Yeats, Go/den _Apple of the Sun_ (IR 206) and _Silver Apple of the Moon_ both suffered broken rudders in the Fastnet race. _Golden Apple_ 's crew abandoned their yacht for a life raft, which was almost swamped, in order to be picked up by a helicopter.** _Barry Pickthall_
**The American forty-five-foot Admiral's Cup boat _Williwaw_ finishes a Cowes Week race to a cloud of cannon smoke from the Royal Yacht Squadron. Like most ocean racers, she has a flush deck and is arranged more for crew efficiency than for cruising comfort. _Williwaw_ finished the Fastnet race after being knocked down several times.** _William Payne_
After the start, we cleared the Needles, at the western entrance to the Solent, and sailed out into the English Channel in a wind that died to force 3. It was from the southwest, dead ahead, and we beat to windward at six to seven knots, choosing the tack that would take us closest to our objective, a point 180 miles away called the Lizard. We alternated watches four hours on, four hours off between 7:00 P.M. and 7:00 A.M. and at six-hour intervals during the day. Francie McBride, the pretty, chatty Irish cook, served up meals at the watch changes, and once expressed chagrin when she realized that she had not brought the correct type of cream for a complicated desert pudding. My watch was four—John Ruch, Susan Noyes, Nick Noyes, and myself (the Noyeses are unrelated)—and John Coote volunteered to come on deck to steer while we made sail changes, which was often.
People who say that ocean racing is boring have never worked hard at it. Racing rules, modern technology, and the boat owner's money have provided large numbers of sails, each of which has a specialized purpose and can be readily substituted for another sail as the wind lightens, strengthens, or shifts in direction. _Toscana_ carried eighteen sails in bins in the forwardmost of her three cabins, on the sole (the floor) of the main cabin, and in a bin in the after cabin. Nine of these sails were jibs that we set off the headstay, which leads from the top of the mast to the bow. Each jib was designed to be used in a particular wind strength or direction, and if either changed by as little as a couple of knots or five degrees, the crew would change to another jib. The sails were known by numbers or by names: the number 1 (of which we had two) was the largest, number 2 the next largest, and so on down to the number 4; the drifter was used in very light winds, the reaching jib was used only when sailing across the wind (whereas the numbered sails might be used either when reaching or when beating into the wind), the blooper, or big boy, was set when running, and the tiny storm jib, smaller even than the number 4, was reserved for the very rare force 9 or stronger gale. We could change jibs quickly since _Toscana_ was equipped with a twin-slotted plastic foil that was secured over the headstay. The boltropes on the luff, or forward edge, of the jibs were fed into the slots as the halyard was hoisted. To change sails, we hoisted the new sail in the free slot on another halyard and then pulled the old sail down. In theory this worked well; in practice it jammed regularly.
**Life aboard an ocean recer in moderate winds: part of crew of _Kieloa_ , an American seventy-nine-footer, eats during a race. At the head of the table is the owner, John Kilroy.** _Louis Kruk_
Besides the nine jibs, we also could choose from among three staysails, which were set either free or on the forestay, which ran from two-thirds of the way up the mast to a point on the deck six feet behind the bow. These relatively small sails generally improved the boat's speed when reaching.
In addition, _Toscana_ carried four spinnakers of various weights and sizes. These huge multicolored nylon sails were set when we reached across the wind or ran before it. The smallest spinnaker was used in strong winds when we thought we might be overpowered with the largest one set. Finally, we had aboard a spare mainsail and a storm trysail, a very small mainsail set, as the name implies, in bad gales. Neither the spare mainsail nor the trysail was required by the rules that applied in the Fastnet race, but like all the other boats, we were obligated to carry the storm jib.
The permanently set mainsail was equipped with three reefs, which we could use to change the sail's shape or to decrease the square footage of sail exposed to the wind as the breeze strengthened. With the third reef tied in, the sail was approximately 60 percent its maximum, unreefed size. With three reefs in the mainsail and the storm jib or forestaysail set, we would carry about one-third the square footage of Dacron that would be up with the full mainsail and number-1 jib hoisted.
Each sail was trimmed with at least one sheet (spinnakers have two sheets) with which we could establish the optimum shape for a given wind strength and direction. We could also alter sail shape by adjusting halyard tension with powerful stainless-steel winches and by changing the bend of the mast and the altitude of the boom with hydraulic pumps on the backstay and the boom vang. At any moment, we could make as many as eight adjustments, most of them synergetic—changing one control often required alterations in two or three others. I enjoyed fooling around with all this gear and could sail an entire four-hour watch at night or a six-hour watch during the day without once sitting still. Sometimes I should have sat still and left things alone. Not only did all this nervous energy drive my watchmates crazy, but impatient sail trimming was as likely to slow a boat down as it was to speed her up.
We measured _Toscana_ 's ability to use the wind best in a variety of ways. If a boat of about her size were alongside, we could compare speeds by sight. If competitors were out of sight, we evaluated our performance by "feel"—the tug of the steering wheel and the boat's motion through the waves—and with the help of a veritable dashboard of instruments directly in front of the helmsman. From left to right, there were an anemometer for wind speed, zero to sixty knots; an apparent wind indicator that showed the direction of the wind relative to our heading; a speedometer, which flashed out digital displays of our speed through the water to a one-hundredth of a knot; and a depth sounder, which indicated the amount of water beneath the hull. Steering by these dials and by the compass, mounted in the binnacle squarely in front of the wheel, was a bit like driving a car at high speed in heavy traffic. The helmsman's eyes constantly flickered from one indicator to the other as he tried to sail the course at the highest speed, and with the corner of his eye he kept a watch for waves, which, if they were from astern, might increase our speed, or, if from ahead, could slow us. At night the helmsman could not see much beyond the dials, which were lit with faint white or red lights, and had to anticipate waves through the motion of the boat.
**The wind and boat speed, wind direction, and other Instruments in _Kialoa_ were duplicated In most Fastnet race entries.** _Louis Kruk_
As we beat toward the Lizard, we changed sails with almost every alteration in wind strength. The crew carefully folded the jib that had been doused, bagged it in a blue sack, and dropped it below through the forward hatch. Sometimes as soon as we had changed sails, the wind died or increased to the point where we had to change right back. Somebody would have to go below and push the heavy, bulky sail up through the hatch, where another person lugged it on deck.
Most if not all of our competitors had at least the same number of sails and instruments and were racing as aggressively as we were in _Toscana._ From time to time, another boat would sail across our bow or wake. Sometimes she was smaller than _Toscana_ —in light winds, little boats can sail as fast as big boats—sometimes she was a bit larger. The second day, Sunday the twelfth, a freighter steamed out of the fog at ten knots only a couple of hundred yards ahead. We sailed to within a quarter mile of the Eddystone Light with no evidence of the lighthouse's existence other than its mournful horn and its bright rotating light two hundred feet up. Fog is caused by a mixing of cool water and warm damp air. In some areas, fog comes before wind; in other areas, it may come before bad weather. I did not know enough about the English Channel to be certain just what this fog meant, but I was not happy to be in it in a shipping lane.
Late that night, we bore off around the Lizard, set the reaching jib, and headed toward the Runnelstone buoy, just off Land's End. When our watch was relieved by Eric's at 11:00 P.M., _Toscana_ was reaching at nine knots. When we returned to deck at 3:00 A.M., for the dawn watch, we were still sailing fast. The dawn watch is my favorite time of day offshore. The crew on deck has a ringside seat for the sun's early pyrotechnics, which, in the unpolluted air over the sea, are quick and orange, unlike the slow red dawns over land. The sun quickly warms fingers that have been chilled during the darkest, coldest hour of night that comes just before dawn. What appeals to me most about watching the sun rise at sea is the chiaroscuro effect of the new light softening the hard edges of objects and people in those last minutes of blackness.
Dawn often brings a drop in the wind. That morning, the breeze quickly died from a solid fifteen knots to a calm, and when members of Eric's watch poked their heads up through the hatch at 7:00 A.M. to relieve us, we were struggling to inch the boat's speedometer up over one knot. _Toscana_ and the dozen or so boats around her were inscribing slow circles over the groundswell rolling in from the south-west. For the first time since the race started forty-two hours earlier, we were out of wind. We were at sea, in the Western Approaches.
I dozed over breakfast—we had worked hard on deck for eight of the ten hours of darkness. When I finished that huge English breakfast, I thanked the cook and went aft to the owner's cabin. Susan, Nick, and John Slept in bunks in the main cabin, but following tradition, the watch captains and the navigator slept aft, in the owner's cabin that was almost under the cockpit and, therefore, most directly accessible to any deck crew who needed advice. By sheerest coincidence, bunks toward the stern of a yacht are more stable (hence easier to sleep in) than those farther forward. Eric and I traded off in one bunk. John Coote did not stand watch, so he had the starboard bunk in perpetuity, although he rarely used it and spent most of his time in the seat at the navigator's table, on the starboard side of the main cabin across from the galley. There, he operated the radio direction finder, the only electronic navigation tool we were allowed to use, and plotted our positions and courses. He also chatted with Francie, patiently answered the barrage of questions that came from the nine men and women standing watches ("Where are we? How many miles to the Rock? What's the weather forecast?"), and leaned his considerable bulk against the cabin side for cat naps. When the BBC shipping bulletins were about due, he took his portable radio aft and into his bunk, where he curled up and, in quiet privacy, dozed through the farm news until the weather forecasts came on.
I slept soundly for five hours that morning. When awakened for lunch, I dressed and went into the main cabin. A wet, badly torn spinnaker lay at the foot of the companionway and we were heeled well over to starboard. Coote filled me in on the details: the wind had finally filled in from the north-east ("A strange direction, don't you think?") and Eric's watch had set the, spinnaker. Later, the wind strengthened and veered through east to south. While they were dousing the spinnaker, the other watch witnessed the unhappy spectacle of the cloth being blown by a hard puff right out of the tapes that defined its edges. They retrieved the fragments and threw them below.
After lunch, I briefly went on deck to sniff the weather. It was chilly and spray was in the air. Back below into the warm dry cabin, I alerted my watchmates to the cold and went aft to dress in four layers—long underwear, heavy shirt, sweater, and foul-weather gear.
An hour into our watch, at 2:00 P.M., Coote slid open the cover over the after companionway, poked his head up, and said, "South-west force 4 to 5, veering to west force 6 to 7. Fastnet Rock reports force 6 south-west." He looked absently at the steering wheel for a moment, then pulled his head below under the closing cover. That summary of the BBC's 1:55 shipping bulletin came as no surprise. We were reaching at eight and a half knots in about twenty-five knots of wind on the anemometer. Since about four knots of the wind's force was apparent wind created by _Toscana_ 's motion, we already had the force 5. The sky to the west was bifurcated. To the south-west, off our port bow, there were high white cirrus clouds. To the northwest, off our starboard bow, there were darker altocumulus "mackerel scales." I remembered the old seamen's warning: "Mackerel scales, furl your sails." Which was more correct, the forecast or the clouds with their suggestion of harsher weather?
We reached all afternoon, always on the verge of reefing. The wind stayed between twenty and twenty-five knots and the boat was handling well. At six o'clock, I went below to warm my hands and hear Coote's summary of the 5:50 BBC shipping bulletin. The prediction continued to be for no worse than force 6, but the wind was expected to veer to north-west. There was a chance of a force 8 gale at Fastnet Rock, now ninety miles to the north-west. I tapped the barometer. Since the start, it had fallen from 1020 millibars (30.1 inches) to 1010 millibars (29.8 inches), still comparatively high. The BBC reported that it was at 1005 millibars (29.7 inches) and dropping slowly at Valentia Island, forty-six miles north-west of Fastnet Rock. Despite the various omens of accidents, injuries, fog, calm, and clouds, the forecast and the barometer gave us little reason to worry about storms—although we could expect a force 8 near the Rock when we arrived there in ten hours, at 4:00 A. M. Tuesday morning.
An hour later, the watch changed in the middle of a rain squall, and, grateful for the timing, we went below to a beef curry dinner and a bottle of red wine. We were down to our last few bottles, which were fine sleeping aids for the off-going watches. The great mystery on board concerned the whereabouts of a case of white wine, which somebody claimed to have brought aboard at Cowes and which had somehow disappeared. Losing a case of wine in a forty-eight-foot boat would appear to be impossible, but apparently it had happened, and Coote, whose wine it was, spent his spare minutes ransacking lockers. If this story had not been true, it might have been invented by somebody trying to inject levity into the otherwise serious business of taking a boat offshore. (The wine was never found.) After dinner, I went aft into the owner's cabin, shed my four layers of clothes, and climbed into the cocoonlike bunk to snuggle under a blanket against the blue canvas lee cloth. This restrained me from rolling out of the bunk and down to the cabin sole.
I slept well for over two hours. When I first sailed offshore, in my late teens, I never had a problem with sleep, but I never had any responsibility either. Captaining a watch may have put me in closer tune with the boat: when she rests, I rest; when she works, I work. _Toscana_ must have sailed along restfully for those two hours ("snoring along on an easy reach" is how Alfred Loomis aptly described such a sail), for I slept comfortably until awakened by a new motion. She was pitching and rolling wildly. Overhead, voices shouted, "Ten knots! Ten-point- _two!_ _Ten-point-two-five knots!!_ "
I reached into the bin beside my head for my glasses and put them on and crawled out of the cocoon. My left shoulder against the lockers on the port side of the cabin—the boat was heeling at least thirty degrees—I walked in my underwear through the door to the main cabin, grabbing the support bar in front of the stove. Downhill, John Coote dozed in the navigator's seat. In a moment, his eyes opened and he said, as though continuing a conversation, "They are doing over ten knots with the number 3 and one reef in the main. They should have the second reef in."
I swung downhill using the wooden companionway ladder as a support, coming to a stop against the end of the navigator's table. The built-in clock read 10:20. Forty minutes to the change of watch. Coote pointed with a pencil to an encircled "X" on the chart. About fifty miles to the Rock.
"How do we rig the third reef?" he asked gloomily.
"We get the bravest, tallest man on the boat to stand on the boom and pass the free reefing line through the leech cringle." I did not relish this chore. The week before, during Cowes Week, booms had laid open two heads; six months earlier, a boom had crushed the skull of a man during a race off Florida; a year ago, my closest friend had twice been knocked into hospital emergency rooms by flying booms. Booms are not to be messed with in rough weather.
I looked around the cabin. My three watchmates and the cook were asleep in the bunks. The lee cloths secured to the two uphill bunks bulged around heads, buttocks, and shoulders. The two in the downhill bunks were sleeping more on lockers and the side of the hull than they were on their mattresses. I climbed up to the galley, turned on the propane gas valves, lit a burner, and put the pot over the flame. I slid back aft to dress: damp long underwear, damp wool socks, damp green turtleneck jersey, damp gray wool sweater, my last dry corduroy trousers, fingerless leather gloves (my hands would soften in the spray). I pulled my foul-weather gear out of a locker and tugged on the suspendered yellow pants, which covered me from insteps to armpits. With a clownish balancing act, hopping on one foot, I shoved my feet into the damp yellow boots.
I inched forward again to the galley, with new security on the nonskid soles of the boots, and spooned instant coffee and condiments into four mugs: black for Nick, powdered milk and sugar for Susan and John, powdered milk for me. Leaving the other three mugs lying against a low rail around a shelf, I put my mug in one of the two stainless-steel sinks, turned off the gas, picked up the pot, and very carefully poured boiling water into the mug. As I picked it up and sipped at the coffee, I reflected on how calm I felt, how cautiously and purposefully I seemed to be moving. At any other time, I would have held the mug with one hand while trying to pour the water with the other. Inevitably, in the bouncing and heaving of the boat, my arm would have lurched and a drop or two would have spilled and scalded my hand. Had I slept that well? Was I anticipating something?
I had felt and moved this way once before, while preparing to parachute out of a U.S. Army troop plane. Then I had carefully put on my field gear and parachute, had moved cautiously through the inspections and into the plane, had sat quietly as the plane took off and circled over the drop zone, and had, with a keen sensitivity to my hands, stood up, hooked my harness to the static line, and shuffled to the door to jump, slow motion it seemed, into the air eighteen hundred feet above red Georgia soil.
## **4** **TOSCANA: Battle Scene**
**Seas break on Fastnet Rock at midday on Tuesday, August 14. The gala is slowly moderating, but the seas are still heavy. Later, the lighthouse keepers washed thick salt layers off the lantern.** _Irish Times_
**W** ATER DRIPPING FROM her frizzy hair, Sherry Jagerson came below at 10:40 to awaken the new watch. The blackness and the roar of waves and wind burst through the open hatch into the sanctuary of the dimly lit cabin. As my watchmates rolled out of their bunks, I poured water and handed them their coffee. "You're already up?" John Ruch asked sleepily.
I drank my coffee carefully, put the mug in the sink, and went aft once again and pulled on my blue parka, insulated with foam to keep me afloat if I went overboard, and a brown wool hat. Leaning against a locker, I untangled the nylon straps of the safety harness and put it on. At the end of the six-foot-long tether was a heavy stainless-steel mountain climber's hook, which I snapped into the buckle to keep the tether from tangling in my legs. Moving stiffly in the six layers of clothing and the harness, I walked forward, climbed up the companionway ladder, pulled back the heavy Plexiglas hatch cover, and stuck my head up into the gale.
Sliding out of the hatch on my belly, I grabbed the safety line rigged between the companionway and the cockpit with one hand and reached behind me with the other to pull the hatch cover securely shut. I duck-walked aft, looking downwind to keep spray off my face, and, when I reached the cockpit, found a spot of bench to sit on among the four dark figures that braced themselves against the wind and the mad jerking of the boat. I hooked my safety harness to the line and concentrated on the rows of white-capped waves that marched downwind from us. When my eyes were adjusted to the dark and my internal rhythms were more or less in synchrony with _Toscana_ 's lurches, I turned and studied the glowing instrument dials: wind speed—thirty-five, forty, thirty-seven knots; relative wind angle—ninety, one hundred, ninety degrees; boat speed—(dropping as we went up a wave) 9.95, 9.82, 9.50, 9.3, (increasing down a wave) 9.46, 9.70, 10.01, 10.25.
I turned the other way and wiped the spray off my glasses with my fingers. At the helm was Dale Cheek, an Oklahoman and former skipper of a Greek charter yacht who had turned up at the dock in Cowes one day looking for a crew berth. Fortunately for us, we took him, and Eric asked him along for the Fastnet race. Dale was struggling with the wheel. The king spoke, marked with a bit of line, stands vertical when the rudder is centered. Now it was horizontal, so the rudder below us was pushing thousands of pounds of water to one side, risking damage (perhaps), slowing us down (probably), and hindering Dale from steering the course (certainly).
"Eric, we should shorten down," I said.
"I agree," he said. "This blow just came up. We put up the number 3 only an hour ago."
"Another reef and the number-4 jib?" I asked.
"I think the forestaysail."
"Will it be enough sail to get us around the Rock? We'll have to tack, and the waves must be breaking there."
"That's five hours away," Swenson said. "Look how fast this is building."
We stared at the anemometer. The pointer now was between forty and forty-five knots. I looked around. Each of my watchmates was on deck, so we had nine pairs of hands. Eric took the helm.
"Okay," I said loudly. "First let's get the second reef in, next let's set the staysail, then let's douse the number 3."
Nobody budged. A large wave broke on deck and spray flew over us and halfway up the mainsail. Blobs of phosphorus, nature's light show, glowed for a few seconds on the sail and our foul-weather gear before sliding off and running out the cockpit drains.
I unhooked my harness, slid to leeward under the safety line, and grabbed an end of a spare jib sheet that lay on the leeward seat. I walked forward with the end along the starboard deck, leaning thirty degrees to port to stay upright and bracing myself against the boom with my left hand. Halfway forward, I leaned down and snapped the harness hook onto the jackwire that ran along the deck, glancing aft to see John Ruch and Doug Parfet, from Eric's watch, dragging the forestaysail out of the main hatch and forward along the port deck. Down to leeward, up to my shins in water gushing up from the starboard rail, I passed the sheet through a block on the deck and tied the end to a rail near the mast.
We turned to the reef. I lowered the main halyard six feet, and Doug and John pulled the sail down against the force of the wind and secured a ring sewn in its luff under a stainless-steel hook on the boom. Then Doug helped me crank the halyard up taut on the winch. The three of us took turns at winching in the reefing line that ran from the leech into the boom and forward. It was arm-wearying work. With the reef tied in and her mainsail's area decreased by about 15 percent, _Toscana_ seemed to straighten up slightly.
Next, the change of headsails. Doug and John pulled the forestaysail out of its bag and, their wet hands slipping on the snaphooks, slowly hanked the sail onto the forestay and then hoisted the sail. Nick trimmed the sail in, on an after winch, cleated the sheet, and came forward to help us douse the number 3 hoisted on the headstay. Doug, John, Nick, and I sat down shoulder to shoulder on the foredeck, facing to leeward with our safety harnesses hooked onto the jackwires. We grabbed at the foot of the sail, but the wind stretched it like sheet metal and we could not grip the cloth.
"Eric," I yelled aft, "bear off, bear off!"
A wave broke over the bow and our heads and shoved the four of us to leeward into the lifelines, our safety harness tethers stretched to their limits. With water trickling under our clothes and sea boots, we untangled ourselves from the lifelines and climbed back uphill. The boat leveled as Eric steered her off the wind. When we grabbed the jib again, its cloth softened as it was blanketed by the mainsail. Aft, Susan cast off the halyard. The wind and friction in the slot into which the luff was fed at first kept the sail from coming down. John and Doug slid forward and pulled together on the luff, and the sail gradually dropped in sixfoot folds into Nick's lap and mine, and we smothered the heavy Dacron cloth with our bodies. Eric headed back up to the course to the Rock.
"Damn," Doug shouted, "the sail's stuck in the groove!" A few inches of the luff had jammed. If we were unable to free it, we would have to lash the sail on deck, where it would catch wind and water and eventually blow overboard, taking the lifelines and possibly even the stanchions with it.
"We'll cut it away," Doug said. I tossed him my knife and he slit the sail just above the jam-up and pulled the luff out of the slot. He opened the halyard shackle, shook the sail's head out, and secured the shackle to the bow pulpit, the stainless-steel thigh-high cage that all this time had restrained him from being washed or heaved overboard as the bow lifted and plunged through a ten-foot arc.
While we held the jib on deck, Doug crawled aft and opened the forward hatch. We slowly stuffed the sail below, first with our arms and then with our legs. Waves broke on deck and water poured into the forward cabin down the creases and folds. When the sail was entirely below, John dropped through the hatch and, from inside, closed and locked the cover.
Susan, in the cockpit, yelled something.
"What?" I shouted back.
"How's the trim on the staysail?" She was still racing.
"I can't see. Where's a light?" Somebody shined a large torch on the sail.
"On course, a little high, a little low, on course," Eric chanted as the waves threw _Toscana_ either side of our course.
"Ease it out a little," I yelled aft. When the shape looked right at a moment when Eric said, "On course," I shouted to Susan, "That's fine. Hold that."
We unhooked ourselves and walked aft, sliding our hands along the lifelines and crouching like boxers to absorb the motion of the deck, which tried to propel us into the nearest wave. We were soaked after our half hour's work on the foredeck. Stumbling into the cockpit as a wave smashed the boat amidships, I slid under the safety line to the low side and around the steering wheel.
_"Keep your harnesses hooked on, damnit!_ " Eric said in as near a roar as his gentle voice could command.
When I touched the wheel with my right hand, the palm of the wet leather glove slid across the elk hide cover that insulated the helmsman's fingers from the cold stainless steel of the wheel's outer rim. I squeezed the rim tighter and said, "I've got her, Eric."
He sidestepped uphill to windward and I followed, grabbing the wheel with my left hand where he released it with his right. The wheel turned through twenty degrees as we rocked and pitched. When Eric released his grip entirely, I slid my left hand to where his had been, at the ten o'clock position. With my right hand at three o'clock, I could turn the wheel clockwise to keep the boat from rounding up when waves struck her admidships and she heeled. When the waves slid under her transom and we surfed off course, I pulled the wheel counterclockwise to bring her up. I had never worked harder at steering a boat. The instrument dials now read: wind speed—forty-five, forty-three, forty-six knots; relative wind angle—ninety, one hundred, eighty-five degrees; boat speed—8.61, 9.20, 8.83, 9.45 knots. We had traded some speed for improved control.
Eric's watch went below. After half an hour, we were again overpowered: too great of an angle of heel, and excessive strain on the rudder.
"Get the navigator on deck to take the wheel," I told Susan. "We have to tie the third reef in."
She opened the hatch and stuck her head below. Almost before she had finished passing along the message, John Coote was on deck in his bright blue foul-weather gear.
"The zero-zero-fifteen shipping bulletin predicts force 9 to force 10 from the south-west, veering to north-west," he said as he crawled into the cockpit. "It looks as though we have force 9 already."
"What's the barometer?" I asked.
"Down to 986 at Valentia, rapidly falling." The barometer had dropped nineteen millibars, or half an inch, in only seven hours. The clouds had been right.
"Could you steer while we try to tie in the third reef?" I asked Coote.
"Gladly."
"We'll have to lower the main," I told him.
"Good luck," Coote said as he took the wheel.
Nick and John went forward to the base of the mast to lower the mainsail. We had only two reefing lines at the outer end of the boom. One, which was red, was holding down the second reef that we had just tied. The other, which was green, held down the first reef and was now redundant, since the second reef had superseded it (reefs in mainsails are like slats in venetian blinds; as each reef is tied in, several more feet of sail are removed from the flow of the wind). We had to pull the green reefing line out of the first reef and lead it through the third reef, but to get at the line, we would have to be able to get at the end of the boom, which was now ten feet to leeward, tripping through waves.
As Nick and John pulled the mainsail down, Susan and I trimmed the mainsheet until the boom was waving over our heads. Most of the sail flogged to leeward. I stood on the cabin top, hooked my harness into the safety line, and leaned over the boom to steady it. I pulled at the green line, but, wedged under the red line in the second reef, it would not budge.
"Ease the red line," I yelled forward. Only twenty feet away, they did not hear a word I said. " _Ease the red line!_ " I screamed. Nick looked at me, trying to read my lips. "Goddammit, the _RED_ line, _ease the RED LINE!_ "
Nick knelt down on deck and reached for a winch. The green line went slack.
"No, the red one, the _OTHER_ one!"
He nodded and reached for another winch. The red line eased out.
"That's enough!" I showed Nick the palm of my left hand and he cleated the line. I freed the green line and reached far over the boom for the third reef cringle, a heavy steel ring. The cringle flapped wildly and banged my fingers. I thought, even in twenty knots of wind this would be not easy. I finally grabbed the cringle with the middle finger of my left hand, held it long enough to pass the green line through it, and then pulled the line back to the boom and, using a bowline knot, secured the end through a metal plate.
"It's made!" I shouted, and I crawled off the boom and into the cockpit. Coote, behind me, whistled a loud sigh of relief. Nick and John tied down the cringle in the luff and winched the mainsail up. The head seemed barely halfway up the mast. Susan eased the mainsheet, and the men forward pulled down the leech cringle with the green line, led around a winch.
I relieved Coote at the helm. "You know," he said, "we were going along quite nicely with only the forestaysail up." Nick and John came aft and, panting, threw themselves down on the windward cockpit seat.
Continuing to increase, the wind was now in the mid to high fifties. We were going no slower yet the steering was slightly easier even though the waves came in confusing patterns and at times tossed the boat around wildly. After a while I said, "I hope you don't mind, but I think I should do most of the steering. Let's keep two people on deck. The other two can go below to warm up." I was chilled.
"Go ahead," Nick said. "If you get tired, let me know." Nobody went below.
As the wind built over the next two hours, the seas continued to grow larger. They broke with surprising frequency. For a while, I watched for the big ones over my left, windward, shoulder and tried to steer down their faces so they would not break over us. _Toscana_ was not too large to be rolled over by a wave. A sixty-one-footer, _Sorcery_ , was rolled in the North Pacific in 1976 and her mast, rigging, and lifelines were swept overboard as though a huge knife had sliced along her deck. In a confused sea like this one, churned up by a rapidly building and shifting wind blowing over relatively shallow water, there was always the chance of a giant wave rearing over and capsizing us.
But the night was too dark, the bad waves were too frequent, and I was too awed to continue the lookout. Their great size and speed distracted me from steering. Yet with my eyes straining ahead, I could still sense from the motion of the boat and increasing volume of the roar when the bad ones were coming, like moving walls, and would shout warnings to my watchmates who sat huddled in the cockpit. They could only pull their heads into their foul-weather jackets and parkas and hold on tight. One wave broke over us, knocking my glasses off until they dangled by the safety strap, collapsing my wool hat over my face, and filling the cockpit. Another big one slid out from under us and _Toscana_ fell into the next trough with a crash that dislodged the lock on the forward hatch and opened the cover halfway, letting in a flood of water. John went below to close the cover and to pump.
For the first two hours, the only steady lights were those in the instrument dials, which I could barely make out through my soaked glasses, and the port running light on the bow, which turned the forward waves red. After a bad breaker smashed into the man-overboard light that hung on the lifelines behind my back, the light turned on as it flipped into the cockpit. Its flashing strobe had us helplessly blinded until John muffled it and turned it off.
For a frightening moment, we saw a green running light ahead, which indicated that we were on a collision course with a boat heading back from the Rock. The light disappeared for a couple of minutes and then showed up again down to leeward. A collision between two boats each going over nine knots would have been fatal to both. The sky briefly cleared at about 1:30, revealing a half-moon with its crescent, oddly, facing down. I thought, that's the center of the depression.
Coote had told us to begin looking for Fastnet Rock light at 2:00 A.M., when we should have been within its eighteen-mile range, but it did not appear until almost an hour later. Instead of dead ahead, it was fifteen degrees on the port bow—we had been pushed to leeward farther than anticipated. As we trimmed the sails and headed up, the wind continued on the gradual veer that had started just after midnight. Instead of reaching at nine and a half knots in a south-westerly, we were now beating at six knots into a north-westerly, still not making the course to the Rock. _Toscana_ 's bow started to pound into waves from the new direction. I thought, I've never seen worse, but God save the little boats. _Toscana_ was stable enough to carry sail to keep her speed up in this sea and wind, but a thirty-five-footer could carry little or no sail area upwind in force 9 or more. With little speed, she could not be steered around the worst waves and could be badly battered.
Eric and his watch relieved us at 3:00 A.M. Cold and stiff, we went below. As I slowly peeled off the layers of sodden clothes, I heard the normally imperturbable Coote shout, "That's Clear Island and it's only a mile and a half to leeward. Tack! Tack _nowl_!" The bow swung through the eye of the wind with a roar of waves and wildly flogging sails. The staysail continued to flap after we were around. "The sheet's untied," I heard Sherry shout. Running feet pounded forward. I crawled into the sleeping bag. My shoulders ached and I shivered with cold. I pulled my knees up under my chin in the fetal position and instantly went to sleep.
Sometime later, I was awakened by a light shining through a porthole. Coote was shouting, "We're clear now, Eric. You can bear off to course."
I sat up and looked out the port. To leeward was Fastnet Rock, its baroque lighthouse almost hidden by spray. Between _Toscana_ and it sailed a small cruising boat plugging along through the waves with only a storm jib up. I heard Eric, in the cockpit, say with amazement, "What could that little boat be doing out here on such a night?"
## **5** **TROPHY: Slipping Away**
**_Kialoa_ , with a small jib set to windward, rolls down the face of a wave.** _Louis Kruk_
**T** HE FIRST to round Fastnet Rock was the largest yacht in the fleet, _Kialoa_ , at 12:45 Monday afternoon. Sixteen hours later, as we in _Toscana_ prepared to make the turn and head back to England, this American seventy-nine-foot sloop was approaching the Isles of Scilly. Her passage across the Western Approaches had been quick but eventful.
When the wind built late Monday night, whipping through forces 7, 8, 9, and 10 in two hours, _Kialoa_ 's crew shortened sail as quickly as the enormous forces on her equipment would allow. By midnight, she was sailing under triple-reefed mainsail and number-3 jib, and two-thirds of her twenty-man crew were on deck in anticipation of further changes. Soon after, they lowered the number-3 jib and raised the number 4; later they changed to the forestaysail.
_Kialoa_ reveled in these conditions. Her owner, a Los Angeles real estate executive named John Kilroy, had had her built for offshore racing. Since her launching in 1974, she had made two circumnavigations of the world in search of hard racing, winning the World Ocean Racing Championship along with dozens of races. A man who thoroughly enjoyed the power that his wealth had provided him, Kilroy—like many owners of large yachts—had made his vessel into an extension of his own personality. He had closely supervised the designers and builders he had commissioned to create her and had gone to great lengths to evaluate her performance with computers and other sophisticated electronic instruments.
Kilroy was proud of his knowledge of both his yacht and her equipment. Therefore, he was surprised when a block on the windward running backstay broke—a fitting that had been designed to take a load of twenty-four thousand pounds. With the backstay slack, her ninety-five-foot mast was inadequately supported between its top and the deck. As _Kialoa_ pounded over the waves at speeds of well over ten knots, the middle of her mast swayed fore and aft through an arc of four feet. Knowing it was only a matter of moments before the spar would snap, Kilroy ordered the mainsail trimmed all the way. The pressure of the sail would provide some support until an emergency backstay could be rigged. The mast steadied and held.
Kilroy himself was not so fortunate. A gust that he estimated at seventy knots in strength knocked the big sloop over on her side and, he said later, "a wave that was solid green water at least six feet above the deck picked five guys up and threw them at me." Kilroy was pinned against a winch. In considerable pain, he extracted himself from the heap of men and went below, where he stayed for much of the remainder of the race. First thought to be broken ribs, the injury was eventually diagnosed as a ruptured chest cartilage by a sports-medicine doctor, who told Kilroy that he now had something in common with American football quarterbacks who are tackled by burly defensemen.
Kilroy suffered one more embarrassment. _Kialoa_ was caught and beaten to the finish at Plymouth by the seventy-seven-footer _Condor of Bermuda_ , whose crew not only sailed closer to the Isles of Scilly than the more conservative Kilroy but also set a spinnaker when the wind dropped down to forty knots. Despite a broken spinnaker sheet block and several wild broaches when she was overpowered by gusts (at one stage, she spun through 180 degrees and started sailing backward at three knots), _Condor_ kept on under the big sail at speeds as high as twenty-nine knots until she submarined her entire forward deck under a wave. The spinnaker was then lowered.
_Condor_ beat _Kialoa_ to Plymouth by twenty-eight minutes and broke the Fastnet race elapsed-time record by almost eight hours. Rob James, one of her crew members and a crew and skipper in two round-the-world races, said after the finish that the waves had been worse than any he had experienced around Cape Horn or in the southern oceans—two areas famous for dangerous seas.
In the 170 miles of water between _Toscana_ and the two leading boats—all three of whose crews were able to keep racing—there were dozens of crews whose concerns were considerably more basic than that of sailing fast. Some were able to stay on course under storm sails. One of these was the crew of _Imp_ , an American thirty-nine-footer, who were content to sail under deeply reefed mainsail alone for several hours, averaging a speed of about seven knots—fast enough to allow good steering, yet slow enough to stay in control. Her owner, Dave Allen, figured correctly that simply being able to finish the race would assure _Imp_ a good position in the Fastnet and Admiral's Cup placings (of the 303 starters, only 85 finished; 41 of the 54 Admiral's Cup yachts that started finished the race). Fast enough in the early part of the race to have reached Fastnet Rock before the wind veered to the north-west, _Imp_ , unlike _Toscana_ and the vast majority of other boats, never had to try to beat into the gale. Likewise with _Eclipse_ , an English thirty-nine-footer, which, under storm jib and double-reefed mainsail, was rolled over on her side by a wave when twelve miles from the Rock, at about 1:00 A.M. Tuesday. The crew lowered the mainsail for a while, and after some discussion, the third reef was tied in and the sail was rehoisted. Once around the Rock, the crew even considered hoisting the larger, number-4 jib, but the wind strengthened to the point where they lowered the mainsail once again and sailed under jib alone relatively comfortably at seven knots. _Imp_ , which went for stretches under mainsail alone, finished seventh on handicap in the race; _Eclipse_ , under a different sail for the same reason, finished second. Their elapsed times differed by only seven minutes.
Another, much larger, category included all the boats that were not fast enough to have reached the Rock before the wind shifted to the west. Many, unlike _Toscana_ , were not sufficiently large and stable to carry sail while beating to windward in such a strong wind. Most of these boats were smaller than about forty feet ( _Imp_ and _Eclipse_ were exceptionally fast for their thirty-nine-foot length), as were the majority of the boats in the fleet.
_Windswept_ went through an ordeal that was in many ways typical of the experiences of many of these boats. Her crew was of average ability—some members widely experienced, others not much more than novices. She was handled conservatively. And she suffered two major and several minor misfortunes.
Owned by George Tinley, a very knowledgeable sailor from Lymington, _Windswept_ was one of the boats in the new Offshore One-Design-34 Class designed by an American, Doug Peterson, and built by an Englishman, Jeremy Rogers, who also built and owned the successful _Eclipse._ Tinley's crew consisted of six sailors, some old friends, others recent acquaintances. Many ocean-racing skippers prefer to take friends as crew members, not only to enjoy their companionship but also because the mutual understanding and respect of their relationship may allow for better teamwork. Others make a point of not inviting friends to crew so that personal loyalties will not intrude. Crewing for Tinley in _Windswept_ were a small-boat-racing sailor with limited offshore experience; a man with whom the skipper had raced in small boats twenty-five years earlier ("A marvelous chap to be out with," Tinley said of him); a young apprentice sailmaker who had sailed in _Windswept_ in three offshore races in 1979; a young Frenchwoman with some offshore sailing experience; a knowledgeable navigator; and a sixteen-year-old boy who had sailed a great deal with his parents.
When conditions deteriorated on Monday evening, the crew quickly shortened sail until at 1:00 A. M. _Windswept_ was sailing under storm jib alone, going fast and in control, although the mast shook violently when she was battered by the seas. As the wind continued to build, reaching sixty knots on _Windswept_ 's anemometer, Tinley decided to lower the storm jib and let the boat lie a-hull, letting her lie with no speed on with her port side to the waves so she could bob up and down. This is an established technique for riding out storms. Two crew members kept a lookout in the cockpit, their safety harnesses securely snapped to a safety line, but they did not wear life jackets. Nobody was badly seasick, the motion was comfortable, and the deck was dry. At one stage the Frenchwoman told Tinley that the experience reminded her of sitting on a beach and watching the waves harmlessly come in. "We were just lying there like a little duck, going up and down," Tinley said later, "which is just what all the books say should happen."
The only problem was the cold. Sitting inactive in the cockpit, with the tiller lashed to leeward, the lookouts began to suffer. Sometime between 3:00 and 4:00 A.M., Tinley called for a change of watch, and he and the woman were replaced by two men who had been warming up below.
Soon after the watch change, with no warning, a huge wave rolled _Windswept_ over and threw the lookouts out of the boat to the limit of their safety harness tethers. One, Alan Ford, was able to crawl back relatively easily as the boat righted herself. The other, Charles Warren, had considerable difficulty climbing up the high topsides and over the lifelines. Below, everybody was thrown onto a leeward berth. Tinley's nose was broken, and through the dim glow of the single lamp that was lit—its globe was full of water, creating a weird effect—the others could see his blood mingling with gallons of water that had made its way into the cabin. Glass jars had broken and the interior was a mess.
Having seen that lying a-hull was not effective, Tinley decided to run out a drogue, or sea anchor, to try to keep _Windswept_ 's bow pointed into the waves so she would not be rolled over sideways again—another traditional storm tactic. They tied lines and an anchor around a sail in its bag and threw the improvised drogue off the bow on the end of a large mooring line. The boat drifted faster than the drogue and eventually came up short against the line, which pulled the bow almost directly into the waves. The motion was considerably more comfortable, so all seven crew members retired to the relative warmth of the cabin. Every five minutes, somebody would look out the companionway hatch. A lookout soon spotted another boat gradually approaching through the waves. The navigator lit a white flare, and Tinley started the engine, put it in gear, and steered to port. The other boat drifted by, and _Windswept_ , with the starboard side of her bow now to windward, felt even more comfortable.
Tinley lashed the tiller to port, the new leeward side, moved the uninflated life raft from its locker to the cockpit sole, where he lashed it down, and issued inflatable life jackets, one of which, though brand new, was already punctured.
Soon after, confused waves smashed the bow back across and, with the tiller now to windward, the boat's bow continued to swing off until _Windswept_ once again had the seas on her beam. Tinley started the engine and threw it into gear, only to feel the propeller grind to a halt as it was entangled by a line streaming overboard. There was not much that Tinley could do except relash the helm to leeward and return below.
Not long after, a wave lifted _Windswept_ 's bow and smashed her completely upside down.
In the capsize, Tinley, already bloodied, suffered a broken wrist and was knocked unconscious. He had been sitting on sail bags on the cabin sole, eating a piece of chocolate. He has no recollection of where he ended up, but he knows that one of his shipmates was thrown from a bunk into the forward cabin, leaving footprints on the main cabin's ceiling. _Windswept_ remained upside down long enough for the rest of the crew to start worrying. "Never mind," somebody shouted, "it will come up again in a minute!" For thirty seconds or more, the horrified crew sat or lay in pitch darkness, hearing water rush through the companionway hatch (one washboard had been left open to provide air below), through air vents in the deck, and through the cockpit seats. When she finally righted herself, the water was up to the level of the settee berths, at least two feet above the bilge.
The bilge pump handle had disappeared during the capsize, so two people began bailing out the cabin with buckets. On deck, other crew members found the life raft, still uninflated and dragging overboard at the end of the inflation line. Apparently planning to abandon the yacht, they hauled the raft back on board and tugged on the line until it broke at the CO2 bottle. Obviously, their only life raft would have to be _Wind-swept_ herself, and she did not seem very fit for sea. As men below bailed water into the cockpit, loose tea bags and other debris clogged the cockpit drains until the cockpit itself filled and the water started to spill back into the cabin through the seat lockers. The engine was useless, the batteries were leaking a smelly acid, all the lights were out, and the skipper was lying unconscious in the cabin. Lying next to him, Charles Warren, who had suffered a broken nose and been stunned, assumed that the boat had split open and was sinking—he knew nothing of the capsize. When Tinley regained consciousness, he was in the cockpit, his safety harness hooked onto a line. Nobody knew how he had arrived there.
The boat rode relatively easy, yet the seven sailors were unanimous in thinking that they had to get off _Windswept._ "Lives being more important than boats," Tinley later said, "we would be taken off." But there was no getting off without the life raft and, without a radio transmitter, no way to call for help. The sailors attempted to inflate the raft with a small hand pump before giving up after six hours. They moved the drogue line aft to the transom to keep the stern square to the waves, and shot off red flares as the sky began to brighten. Soon, a mast appeared, and a sister ship named _Mickey Mouse_ careened down the seas toward them. In those conditions, _Mickey Mouse_ could offer little aid, although her crew did shoot off a flare to try to attract the attention of a trawler that passed a few hundred yards away. _Windswept_ 's crew fired four red parachute flares, one of which did not function.
Alan Ford, the small-boat sailor who had the least amount of experience in offshore sailing, took the tiller and steered skillfully for the next four hours. Her speed limited by the drogue, _Windswept_ was manageable and did not threaten to pitchpole, or somersault over her bow, while racing down the steep waves. The 360 feet of line, the sail bag, and the anchor were finally working. Tinley tied a six-gallon jerry can of fresh water to the line to increase the resistance. "We found that if she was carried off really fast on the face of a wave and the helmsman made a mistake, we were really done," he said later. Although morale was low, the crew continued to try to improve the drogue, even hanging out loops of line to break waves before they reached the boat, an idea that they had read about in boating magazines and that they found was unsuccessful in practice.
The interior, though dry, was useless for sleeping. The lee cloths that had cocooned sleepers in the main cabin settees had broken, and the only useful bunks were the underdeck pilot berths, which nobody wanted to use for fear of being trapped if the boat capsized again. The crew huddled together on the cabin sole for warmth, and from time to time the Frenchwoman ("The good Sophie," Tinley called her) blew warm air down their shirt fronts. All day Tuesday, _Windswept_ 's cold, disheartened crew took turns steering and trying to rest in the cabin. They realized in late afternoon that the wind was dying and prepared to get under sail. Since they were uncertain of their position, Tinley worried about making a landfall on the unfamiliar coast of southern Ireland. At about 5:00 P.M., they attracted another racing boat by waving an SOS flag that they had prepared from a lee cloth to signal helicopters. The boat passed close by and her crew gave Tinley the compass course to Kinsale. It was dead into the wind, and Tinley decided that _Windswept_ could reach with more comfort and speed to Cork. After using sheet winches to haul in the drogue, they set the storm jib and were under way. It was a slow, long sail until they had recovered enough from the shock of the storm to set the much larger number-2 jib at dawn on Wednesday for the last, increasingly pleasant, twenty-five miles into Crosshaven, the yachting harbor of Cork, Ireland.
"When men take up a dangerous sport some must expect to die," a reader wrote to the English magazine _Yachting World_ after the Fastnet race. Yet unlike mountaineers and race-car drivers, few of the people in _Windswept_ 's crew or in the Fastnet fleet would have called their sport dangerous before the gale broke over them Monday night—frequently uncomfortable and sometimes harrowing, but rarely if ever a threat to life and limb.
Ocean racing's record of fatalities was probably shorter than forty people in over one hundred years. From time to time, individuals had been lost off boats or had been fatally injured during races. The death of Colonel Hudson in the 1931 Fastnet race was such a fatality, and during the Southern Ocean Racing Conference series held off Florida in 1979, one man fell off the stern of a boat at night and drowned and another man died after a boom fractured his skull. During the first ocean race ever held, a transatlantic race between three one-hundred-foot schooners, in December 1866, a wave swept six men out of _Fleetwing_ 's cockpit. This was the greatest loss of life from a racing crew until a French thirty-five-footer, _Airel_ , went down without either a trace or an explanation during a short race off Marseilles in 1977, taking seven men with her. Forty-two years earlier, during a transatlantic race to Norway, an American named Robert Ames was washed off his ketch _Hamrah_ at night during a gale. His son Richard dove overboard and swam to him, and another son, Henry, launched a rowboat to rescue them both. The rowboat capsized and the three men disappeared before _Hamrah_ 's remaining three crew members could sail back to them. Frightful as they were, the _Fleetwing, Airel_ , and _Hamrah_ tragedies, totaling sixteen deaths, were so exceptional that most yachtsmen first hear about them as legendary examples not of the sea's cruelty but of poor seamanship: _nobody_ should race across the North Atlantic Ocean in December, or sail in a boat, that, like _Airel_ , is not equipped with a life raft, or swim for a man who has fallen overboard.
Few people who go to sea for pleasure would disagree with a dogma propounded by Thomas Fleming Day, the founder of American ocean racing. "The danger of the sea for generations has been preached by the ignorant," Day wrote some seventy years before the 1979 Fastnet race; "it has been the theme for the landsman poet and writer, until the mass of the people have accepted this gross libel of our Great Green Mother as gospel. . . . [A seaman] knows well enough that the sea never destroys purposely and malignantly. He knows that it never has or will murder a vessel; that every vessel that goes down commits suicide."
Whether or not they got into major trouble, George Tinley and many other survivors of the Fastnet gale have good reason to be less trusting of the sea than was Day. Even small mishaps were threatening to life. On board _Carina_ , the successor to the winner of the 1955 and 1957 races, a lurch sent a carving knife flying out of a galley drawer, across the main cabin, and, point first, into a door. When _Aries_ 's life raft was thrown from its cockpit storage space, the inflation line tangled in the steering wheel, which, as it turned, triggered the CO2 canister. The crew watched helplessly as the raft filled the cockpit. When it threatened to jam against the wheel, they hacked the raft to pieces with knives and threw it below to be glued back together. The log of _Mosika Alma_ read: "0600, FLIPPED UPSIDE DOWN to 180 degrees. No serious injuries. No structural or rigging damage. Skipper cracked ribs, mate smashed nose, one crew facial cuts." As the Royal Navy yacht _Bonaventure II_ went through a series of knockdowns just after dawn on Tuesday, her mast became progressively weaker and finally snapped during the third knockdown, hitting and breaking the left forearm of her skipper, Captain Graham Laslett, Royal Navy, and falling on top of three men who had been hurled overboard. Two of the men were quickly cut free and hauled themselves back aboard, but the third was so entangled in the mess of wire, rope, aluminum mast, and sails that his recovery from the water took well over an hour. Spotting a ship that appeared to be on a collision course with _Bonaventure_ , Laslett fired off flares and ordered the life raft prepared for quick inflation. The ship altered course at the last moment and stopped; it turned out to be a Royal Navy fishery protection vessel, HMS _Anglesey_ , which had been homed in on _Bonaventure_ by a Nimrod patrol plane. Laslett decided to abandon ship. His crew inflated the life raft, climbed into it, and drifted downwind to where the _Anglesey_ stood by.
These threatening accidents were almost trivial in comparison with the fifteen deaths that occurred on August 14. One fatality was Peter Dorey, who was steering his thirty-seven-footer, _Cavale_ , when she was capsized at about 3:00 A.M. while running before the gale under bare poles. He and the other man on deck, Philip Bodman, were heaved overboard. Bodman's safety harness took the strain, but Dorey's did not and he was washed away. Dorey was fifty-one years old, a shipping executive, and the president of the States Advisory and Finance Committee of Guernsey, in the Channel Islands. Before the start of the Fastnet, he had twice put his boat and crew through man-overboard drills, but on that dark night he was out of sight of _Cavale_ within moments. On board _Cavale_ were one of his sons and a cousin.
Broken equipment also was responsible for the loss of two men from the Royal Naval Engineering College's thirty-five-footer, _Flashlight._ The men, Russell Brown and Charles Stevenson, both Royal Navy officers, were lost when safety harnesses and a lifeline broke. When the Dutch-owned thirty-three-foot Fastnet entry _Veronier II_ rolled while hove-to under storm jib, G. J. Williabey and another man were thrown from the cockpit. The rope tether of Williabey's safety harness broke, and the other man, whose harness remained intact, suffered bruises to his body under the harness and to his hands and arms where he grabbed at objects. When the boat righted herself, the crew threw a man-overboard buoy with a strobe light into the water and returned to it. After searching for Williabey for twenty minutes, they decided that he was lost and that they were risking their own lives.
_Festina Tertia_ , a British thirty-five-footer on charter, had abandoned the race early on Tuesday morning and was running back toward England under storm jib in excellent control. Her only problem was that the small cockpit drains could not dispose of water quickly enough as waves broke over her. With the cockpit full of water, the seat lockers were filling and draining into the bilge. At about 1:30 P.M., she was unexpectedly rolled 150 degrees by a cresting wave whose only advance warning was the roar of the breaker. One man was thrown so hard against the steering wheel that its supporting column broke. When _Festina Tertia_ righted herself, another man, Roger Watts, was missing; his safety harness tether was still hooked to the boat and the harness, which apparently had snapped, was attached to the tether.
The crew immediately started man-overboard procedures, rounding up to Watts, who lay face down and unresponsive in the water. On the third pass, Sean Thrower stripped off his foulweather gear and outer clothing, dove in, and swam toward the man, but a wave separated them. "Can't you see he's dead!" somebody shouted, and Thrower swam back to the boat. The waves had been forceful enough to rip his underwear off. Suffering from hypothermia, he was hauled into the boat, dried off, and bundled into warm clothes and a sleeping bag. His shipmates realized that he was on the verge of shock, so they radioed a Mayday, and an hour and a half later, a helicopter arrived overhead. The crew inflated the life raft, and Thrower climbed into it and pushed away. The cable pulled him up into the helicopter, and fifteen minutes later he was in a warm bath in the Culdrose sick bay.
The death of a crew member in the thirty-two-foot _Gunslinger_ came well after the boat was rolled over. Running before the gale under storm jib early on Tuesday morning, she handled the seas well until her rudder broke. Bob Lloyd, the skipper, opened the hatch and yelled below for help, and was lowering the jib when the boat broached, skidding off sideways down the face of a wave. The succeeding wave rolled her over on her side. Lloyd was thrown overboard, to the end of his tether, and the other crew members came on the deck of the now-righted boat. The next wave rolled the boat over on her side once again, and was followed by a wave as high as forty feet, which curled high above _Gunslinger_ , broke, and drove her all the way over. She was upside down.
Water poured through the open hatch, and when the boat finally righted herself, the cabin was flooded to the level of the lower bunks—about knee height—and seemed to be taking on more water. The crew assumed that she was leaking badly through a hole left by the broken rudder. When the water reached waist height, they decided to abandon ship. _Gunslinger_ was now more than half filled. One crew member radioed a Mayday; the others inflated the life raft. The raft was pushed overboard, and Paul Baldwin got into it with a flashlight and other equipment as the others prepared to follow.
A breaking wave then swept over the boat and capsized the raft, throwing Baldwin out. The other men watched as he struggled to swim back to the raft, in his life jacket. The bow line of the raft tightened and broke, injuring the hand of the crew member holding it. When his shipmates last saw Paul Baldwin, the raft was drifting away from him.
_Gunslinger_ now had to be made seaworthy. The crew bailed frantically, and after a couple of hours the water level in the cabin had dropped. She was not leaking, the crew decided; the added water had poured into the bilge from the lockers, shelves, and head liner. Able to get out a distress call, they attracted a helicopter, which picked an injured crew member, Mike Flowers, out of the water at about 5:00 P.M. The others endured the cold and rolling until 8:30 Wednesday morning, when a Dutch trawler, the _Alidia_ , took _Gunslinger_ under tow to Crosshaven, where she suffered some damage when she drifted onto a trawler. Aside from the broken rudder, that was the only serious damage that _Gunslinger_ suffered during her long ordeal.
**How a boat can be capsized. First, she broaches to one side while surfing down the face of the large wave. The next wave then breaks over her with thousands of pounds of water flying at speeds over thirty knots. As the breaker collapses over her, the boat is lifted over on the face of the wave, until she is rolled upside down with her mast in the water, throwing men out of the cockpit and, sometimes, breaking the mast. Here, _Gunslinger_ , the stump of her broken rudder showing, remains capsized until a wave pushes against the keel, which rights her.**
Of all the stories of boats and crews distressed during the Fastnet gale, few are more terrifying than that of _Trophy._
An Oyster thirty-seven-footer designed by the British firm of Holman and Pye, _Trophy_ was owned by Alan Bartlett, a North London pub owner who had sailed for over twenty years and who, in _Trophy_ and previous boats, had raced in an earlier Fastnet and in several other RORC events. A genial man who cared strongly about his boat and crew, Bartlett had a steady crew of seven men, all of whom had sailed together before the 1979 Fastnet race. During 1978, _Trophy_ 's first year, the crew had been worried by apparent structural weaknesses in the boat, and Bartlett had arranged for a boatyard to reinforce the hull—a complicated and expensive procedure that involved the removal of the entire cabin. When _Trophy_ was reassembled in the spring of 1979, the crew installed a few special items, among them a custom-built navigator's seat in which they stored flares and other safety equipment. Every weekend, the eight men worked on the boat at Burnham-on-Crouch, about forty miles east of London.
Once the racing season opened, the crew experienced the mix of mediocre and prize-winning performances that is the lot of most ocean-racing boats, winning their class in the ninety-mile race from Harwich to Ostend, Belgium, but doing poorly in the rough conditions of Cowes Week. Like most crews, they spent the day before the Fastnet race start storing food and clothing and checking safety equipment and racing gear. The Beaufort life raft had been inspected a month or so earlier, and now a crew member carefully examined its storage locker under a seat in the cockpit. To his surprise, he discovered that somebody had screwed down the top of the locker. In the highly unlikely event that they would abandon ship, the crew would have to locate and then use a screwdriver simply to get at the life raft. The man replaced the screws with cotter pins, or split pins, which could easily be pulled out of holes in the locker.
The first two days of the race were slow, the only excitement coming when a tug towing part of an oil rig loomed out of the fog on Sunday and passed close by. When the wind built after Monday morning's flat calm, they were off Land's End, and soon they were flying toward Fastnet Rock under spinnaker. The 12:15 weather forecast of force 6 to 8 did not disturb either Bartlett or his crew, most of whom had been through bad weather in _Trophy_ or her predecessors. In fact, it was the rough return from the last race of the 1978 season that had convinced Bartlett that the hull required reinforcement, because as they had sailed across the English Channel under small jib alone, they had felt the hull twisting under them.
By Monday evening, the conditions were difficult enough to warrant something unusual on one of Alan Bartlett's boats, a cold dinner, since the cook could not keep his footing in front of the stove. They shortened sail to keep up with the increasing wind, and by 10:30 _Trophy_ was reaching at ten knots under number-3 jib alone. Seasickness was insidiously taking its toll of the crew, and sleep was difficult. As in many racing yachts, there were not enough bunks for the entire off-watch, so one or two men slept on the sails packed on the sole of the main cabin. Those on deck were hooked onto the lifelines and stanchions with their safety harness, and life jackets were issued.
At about 11:00 the crew on deck spotted a red flare drifting down out of the clouds. Immediately deciding to go to the assistance of the distressed vessel, Bartlett took a compass bearing on the spot from which the flare appeared to have been fired and turned on the engine. He shouted below for somebody to enter the time and position in the logbook. After the finish, he said, he would present the logbook as evidence when asking the race officials for redress for time spent in his rescue efforts. _Trophy_ 's forty-horsepower diesel drove her well across the waves, beam-to, yet it was still over an hour before she was alongside a dismasted white sloop, whose crew told Bartlett through a series of gestures that all was well, after all. With Simon Fleming at the steering wheel, _Trophy_ stayed on station making a bare one knot under power alone.
Also standing by was _Morningtown_ , a thirty-nine-foot cruising ketch owned by Rodney Hill and serving as the Royal Ocean Racing Club's official race escort vessel. Her assigned job was to monitor radio channels and to take position reports from the Admiral's Cup yachts. In her crew was Pat Wells, who might have been competing in the race except that his own boat had run aground on the Dutch shore during the North Sea Race in May and had been filled and destroyed by breakers.
_Morningtown_ rolled badly in the confused, wild sea, and her crew found it hard to hold her on station, since she made considerable leeway, slipping sideways downwind at over three knots. Peering through the spray-filled gloom, they saw _Trophy_ standing by the dismasted sloop, whose crew appeared to be preparing to abandon her in a life raft that they had hauled onto the foredeck. Another flare appeared from a different direction, so _Morningtown_ 's crew, believing that the disabled boat was being properly shepherded, headed away.
Not long after, _Morningtown_ 's steering cable slipped off the rudder quadrant and she lay uncomfortably rolling, her beam to the seas, while her crew tried to repair the damage. Looking up, somebody saw a dismasted yacht pass by, and a life raft in the water. To their considerable surprise, the RORC representatives realized that the disabled vessel was _Trophy_ , and that she had been abandoned by her crew, who only minutes before had seemed to be in full control.
They _had_ been in full control until they slowed down near the first disabled yacht. Only moments after the other crew signaled assurances, _Trophy_ , lying almost motionless, was deluged by a huge breaking wave, the force of which spun the steering wheel out of Simon Fleming's hands and whipped the boat around like a wind vane in a gust. When Fleming was able to get his hands back on the wheel, he could not budge it. The rudder, he guessed, had bent and was now jammed at a thirty-degree angle against the boat's bottom. Having decided that there was little they could do, _Trophy_ 's crew set to riding out the storm. Three men stood watch in the cockpit and the others went below to try to get some rest. Two of the three washboards were inserted in the companionway behind them to seal the cabin off from the spray and occasional solid water that came on deck. The small opening left by the absent board allowed fresh air in. Simon Fleming lay down on the sail bags and the others crawled into bunks. From his position deep in the hull, Fleming felt the boat to be safe. But very soon after, a wave that the men on deck said roared up as high as the fifty-foot mast broke on _Trophy_ , rolling her right over.
Fleming found himself lying on the yacht's overhead, under hundreds of pounds of sails. Robin Bowyer was shouting for help, the fluorescent lights dimmed, and the engine stopped. Fleming fought himself out from under the sails just as the boat righted herself and he was buried once again on the cabin sole under the sails, at least two feet of water, and a heap of equipment that had spilled out of lockers and the navigator's seat. The water had poured through the small hole in the companionway where the extra washboard should have been, and when one of the men on deck pulled out another washboard to look below, more water came down.
On deck, the primary worry had been to avoid colliding with the drifting _Morningtown_ , whose crew was out of sight, but when the great wave hit and rolled _Trophy_ over, breaking her rigging and wrapping the mast under and around her bow, the escort boat was forgotten. As _Trophy_ went over, Russell Smith was trapped in the water under the cockpit, and Richard Mann and Alan Bartlett were thrown clear. Smith and Mann pulled themselves aboard as the boat righted herself, but Bartlett was left dragging overboard by his tether.
Once he had dug himself out from under the sails, Fleming crawled up the companionway and into the cockpit. Without the weight of the mast aloft, the boat rolled much more quickly now, and the boom, sails, lines, and heaps of other gear that littered her deck swung back and forth across the cockpit, creating hazards for the dazed, confused men trying to keep their footing. Fleming saw Bartlett in the water on the windward side, his life jacket and safety harness entwined in sheets and halyards as he fought to keep his head above water. Fleming tried to haul Bartlett aboard, but the stocky skipper was made heavier by his water-soaked clothes and by the entangling lines. Fleming was, however, able to pull Bartlett alongside and, with Derek Morland, succeeded in hauling his skipper's feet up over the toe rail. Lying in the water with his heels over the rail and his body being hammered against the topsides by the waves, Bartlett thought to himself, "What a silly way to die."
Struggling desperately for a way to get Bartlett aboard, Fleming finally decided to cut him free. He found a knife and hacked away at the lines, slashing the safety harness and life jacket as well, until after ten minutes Bartlett was hauled on deck, exhausted.
Meanwhile, with their skipper over the side and for all intents and purposes out of commission, two other members of the crew took it upon themselves to decide to abandon ship—possibly these men were John Puxley and Peter Everson, who had suffered greatly from seasickness. When Fleming and Morland finally had Bartlett on board, they turned around and saw the inflated life raft in the water to leeward with the two men either in it or climbing into it.
Once inflated, the raft would either have to be cut loose or used. Keeping it on deck or alongside in a sixty-knot wind and thirty-foot seas was an impossibility. Given the situation, Bartlett and his crew had little choice: _Trophy_ was dismasted and rolling violently; water was up to her bunks; the blackness of the night was broken only by the white crests of the great breaking waves; rescue was at hand with _Morningtown_ nearby and—especially—with the recently inspected, inflated life raft alongside. Alan Bartlett decided to put his faith in the raft.
One by one, the men carefully climbed down into the raft, entering the canopy through the small observation port or through the flap that served as a door. One man brought along a galley knife, and when all eight were aboard, he cut the bowline. The men cautiously passed the knife from hand to hand, keeping the sharp blade away from the two inflated rings until it was dropped overboard. The raft and _Trophy_ quickly separated.
Almost immediately, the men again saw _Morningtown._ The crippled ketch drifted down on the life raft from windward. Standing on the foredeck of the thirty-nine-footer, Pat Wells was ready to help them come aboard, but the ginger-bearded Simon Fleming stuck his head out of the canopy door and shouted that they wanted to stay in the raft. Wells was not surprised. _Morningtown_ was rolling wildly as she drifted out of control, and the raft seemed to be relatively secure. Having been in a life raft earlier in the year after his own boat had foundered, Wells knew that crew transfers could be risky. His and everybody else's main worry was whether _Morningtown_ would run the raft over, but the two boats passed almost within two arms' length, and were soon far apart. The time was about 2:30 A.M.
Before _Morningtown_ was out of sight, _Trophy_ 's crew had reason to suspect that they had made the wrong decision. Although they felt safe and secure—especially when they saw _Morningtown_ go through a series of frightening rail-to-rail rolls—they had trouble getting settled in the raft. They could neither find handholds to which they could clip their safety harnesses, nor locate the drogue, which when thrown overboard would slow the raft as it surfed down the waves. As they settled themselves, the raft went up a particularly steep wave, an edge of the bottom was exposed to the wind, and the raft was flipped over onto its top, spilling four men out into the water. Almost immediately, the raft was blown back upright and the men clambered back aboard. The raft capsized several times more within the next few minutes.
On the fifth capsize, incredibly, the life raft split apart, the two inflated rings detaching from each other. _Morningtown_ 's running lights were still within sight, but the ketch was far beyond reach in the black gale. Alan Bartlett was thrown the farthest, and he swam five yards back to the upper ring. The only man without a safety harness and life jacket—which had been destroyed when he was pulled out of the water—Bartlett was tiring.
**Simon Fleming yells to Pat Wells, on _Morningtown_ 's forward deck, that _Trophy_ 's crew wishes to remain aboard the life raft.**
Moments later, a wave swept away John Puxley and Peter Everson, and they could not get back. The six men remaining with the two parts of the raft frantically tried to paddle toward the two men, but they disappeared into a wave trough and were not seen alive again. Puxley, a father of two, was a forty-two-year-old crane operator from Burnham-on-Crouch. Everson, a bachelor in his thirties, worked for an automobile agency in Billercay, about fifteen miles east of London.
Up to this point, the men had not secured themselves to the raft, but now those with harnesses clipped the tethers to the rope handholds on the outside of the top ring. The men sat in the bottom ring, which had a floor, and towed the top ring alongside with their tethers. Somebody found the sea anchor, which was so tightly wound in its line that it had not opened automatically. When they let it loose, the line twisted around Russell Smith's hand, tangled in his safety harness, and almost pulled him away. When it was finally straightened out, the drogue slowed the raft and steadied its motion, but the line broke after but a few minutes, and the small flotilla of inflated rubber rings and people was soon being rolled over, time after time. After each capsize the six men bobbed back to the water surface in time to catch the ring with the floor before it blew away.
Soon after first light, at about 5:30, a Nimrod spotter airplane flew over their heads and dropped a yellow smoke flare. Just then, they spotted a yacht on the crest of a wave and they fired off one of the flares they had found in the life raft. To their dismay, three more flares shot up almost immediately; they were not the only crew in difficulty, and although they kept reassuring themselves that _Morningtown_ was bound to report their position, the six men began to be discouraged. Yet by experimenting, they discovered that if they lunged forward as the raft reached the top of a wave, they would force the raft through the breaking crest rather than over it, and the chances of further capsizing were much decreased.
**The Dutch destroyer _Overijssel_ nears the ruined life raft of _Trophy_ In heavy seas.** _Peter Webster_
**_Trophy_ 's life raft—what was left of it—alongside the _Overijssel._** _Peter Webster_
Sometime after sunrise, perhaps as late as 9:00 a.m., a large wave swept over the men and separated the rings. Fleming, who had unhooked his safety harness, came to the surface to find himself alone next to the bottom ring. The other men were yards away, secured to the upper ring. They tried unsuccessfully to paddle toward each other, and one man even attempted to swim the other ring toward Fleming, but they drifted apart.
Alone in the ring, Fleming considered a variety of possibilities. Should he take off his foul-weather jacket and trousers to use as sails? Should he stand up, sit down, or get back in the water? Tired and suffering from leg cramps, he finally decided to sit in the raft and to try to enjoy the warmth of the sun shining through the cold spray on this crisp, almost cloudless, gale-torn morning. Still in his clothes of the night before (he had not even kicked off the sea boots, which restricted his mobility but warmed his feet), Fleming tightened the hood of his foulweather jacket around his ears, and reflected on his impending death. Though tired and numb with cold, he was angry at himself. He knew death was coming, and he did not worry about it, but he swore at himself for accepting it, for giving in. It seemed so bloody stupid, he thought, to be dying so slowly and with so little pain, slipping slowly away in this cold sea. Although he felt lucky that he hadn't been injured—an injured man might have lived half an hour, and he had survived for six or seven hours—the whole thing seemed absurd to him.
If Simon Fleming could worry about his own attitude toward death, he still had an Englishman's sensitivity to the comfort of his friends. They were floating around in the upper ring, no more secure than they would have been in a large inner tube. At least, he thought, he could rest his feet. He worried for them.
Fleming didn't know it then, but one of those shipmates gave in to the inevitable at about the time these thoughts were running through his head. Robin Bowyer, a forty-four-year-old sailing instructor, weakened swiftly and died. Alan Bartlett told the others that he would be the next to go. Although physically strong, and a sailor and amateur boxer, Bartlett was fifty-three years old, and his experience had been the worst of any that night among _Trophy_ 's crew. After his ordeal at the end of his tether before the boat was abandoned, he had been in the water without a life jacket for hours.
And then came rescue. When Simon Fleming first saw a helicopter, he swore: it seemed to be flying away from him. But it swung back overhead and dropped a man with a sling down to him on a cable, and soon he was in the cabin. A few minutes later, the helicopter hovered over the other ring and picked up Alan Bartlett. The others would soon be recovered by the Dutch destroyer _Overijessel_ , which was standing by a few hundred yards away, her crew aghast at the sight of the broken life raft. When Bartlett was hauled into the helicopter's cabin, he was unable to move; he had been in the water for eight hours. The same helicopter, Sea King-597, had also picked up three survivors from _Grimalkin_ from their life raft. Bartlett recovered quickly, and the five men were able to walk off the helicopter when it reached Culdrose. The pilot told Simon Fleming that, having seen the remains of their life raft, he was surprised that any of _Trophy_ 's eight men had survived.
## **6** **The Seas: The Most Fearsome Things**
**_Tenacious_ rolls to leeward as she runs under shortened sail on Tuesday morning.** _Greg Shires_
BY DAWN, any anemometers still functioning indicated wind speeds that averaged in the high fifties. Since most of these instruments read no higher than sixty knots, the sailors could only estimate the power of the gusts that pegged the pointers to their limits. Highly experienced men said later that the wind peaked in the seventies—force 12, or hurricane strength. It was a wind that blew down walls and trees all over Britain, killing several people; that swept a radio antenna off _Toscana_ 's masthead; that made breathing difficult; that numbed faces. Its full blast, wrote Major J.K.C. Maclean, of the army yacht _Fluter_ , created "a shriek of wind that I have only heard before when putting out from the shelter of a boulder on a Scottish hilltop."
But the worst that the wind did was to be the primary cause of a huge, vicious, boat-flipping, morale-shattering seaway. The helicopter pilots, who, while hovering, had to dodge them, said the waves were as high as fifty feet. If that estimate were true, it still misses the point, for the danger of the waves lay not in their height but in their shape. "At daybreak the seas were spectacular," remembered Peter Bruce, a commander in the Royal Navy who was navigator in _Eclipse._ "They had become very large, very steep, and broke awkwardly, but the boat was handling well." George Tinley, who had been so badly beaten around in his _Windswept_ , later said, "There were seas coming at one angle with breakers on them, but there were seas coming at another angle also with breakers, and then there were the most fearsome things where the two met in the middle." After the gale, Major Maclean vividly described the appearance of the waves at night: "All around were white horses with their spray flurrying horizontally and slashing against us with the added impetus of the occasional rain squalls. But these white horses were just the top of some monster waves which hunched up, their tops flaring with spume, and marched on leaving us high at one minute so we could glimpse around, and then bringing us some fifty feet down into their troughs so we could appreciate the enormity of the next wave following. Some waves had boiling foam all over them where they were moving through the break of a previous wave, or, when the foam had fizzled away, they were deep green from the disturbance of the water. Otherwise the sea was black."
The seas and not the wind gusts were capsizing boats and life rafts and smashing sailors overboard. The wind's strength was such that smaller boats could not carry enough sail to steer around waves or to mitigate their great shocks; yet the seas were the true killers on August 14. Salt water weighs sixty-four pounds per cubic foot, and a moderately large breaker that is six feet high, ten feet across, and six feet thick carries, at a speed as high as thirty knots, twenty-three thousand pounds of water. The average boat in the Fastnet race weighed considerably less than that. When a wave of such size and velocity breaks over a boat like a breaker on an Hawaiian beach, its force overwhelms the stability provided by the hull's shape and the keel. The unlucky vessel rolls perhaps through ninety degrees, perhaps all the way.
These waves battered even large yachts. The seventy-nine-foot _Kialoa_ was knocked over by one, and, according to her designer and skipper, German Frers, Jr., _Acadia_ , a fifty-one-foot American boat under charter to an Argentinian crew, was twice rolled over so far that her leeward spreaders dipped in the water. The American Admiral's Cupper _Williwaw_ , forty-five feet in length, was knocked down while Malin Burnham was climbing up the companionway ladder. His feet were swept out from under him with such force that a toenail was sliced off when it hit the underside of the cabin roof. The forty-six-footer _Jan Pott_ , a member of the German Admiral's Cup team, was dismasted when she was rolled completely over through 360 degrees. In the thirty-four-foot _Innovation_ , a gold crown was shaken off a crew member's tooth, and the owner, Peter Johnson, suffered a broken rib when he was heaved against a bulkhead during one of three bad knockdowns.
The best-known skipper in the Fastnet race, former British prime minister Edward Heath, did not escape problems either. His forty-four-foot _Morning Cloud_ , a member of the British Admiral's Cup team, rounded the Rock at 1:30 A.M. About two and a half hours later, a wave so black that nobody saw it coming out of the night smashed down from overhead and rolled her 130 degrees. The helmsman, Larry Marks, was banged first against the steering wheel and then against a stanchion, bending both. Two men were heaved so far that they ended up under the hull, on the ends of the tethers of their safety harnesses. After all were pulled back on deck, Heath decided to take in the deeply reefed mainsail and lie a-hull. _Morning Cloud_ eventually got sailing again, but, undoubtedly discouraged by this latest bit of misfortune, after the loss of her rudder in the Channel race and vandalism to the hull during Cowes Week, Heath took it easy. "When daylight came," Marks said later, "we thought, 'Blimey, this is pretty bad.' We were still pretty much dazed, and we all thought that the best thing to do was to sail home and sit by a fireside."
This was not the first bad storm to have hit the British coast, whose reputation for rough weather was both deserved and ancient well before gales helped to destroy the Spanish Armada in 1588, but it was unusual in season and duration. In her book _British Weather Disasters_ , Ingrid Holford describes thirty-nine natural catastrophes that have devastated Britain since 1638; only seven of them occurred during July or August. The eleventh edition of _The West Coasts of England and Wales Pilot_ , a handbook for seamen using the Western Approaches and the Bristol and St. George's channels, reports that there are force 8 and stronger gales 10 to 20 percent of the time in January and only 2 to 5 percent of the time in July. Eighty percent of all gales in the area blow between October and March and only 20 percent blow during the other six months. The average duration of gales, according to the _Pilot_ , is four to six hours in winter and less in summer (the Fastnet gale blew for twenty hours). The Royal Navy hydrographers who wrote this edition of the _Pilot_ refused to generalize, but their predecessors summarized the weather neatly in the tenth edition: "The region is very stormy."
It always has been so. Richard Earl of Cornwall, a brother of King Henry II, built Hailes Abbey in Gloucestershire as thanks to God after surviving a storm off the Isles of Scilly in 1242. In _The Isles of Scilly_ , Crispin Gill writes of how Scilly Islanders lived off ships wrecked on their rocks in winter and summer gales. (According to the etymologist Eric Partridge, "gale" is related to "yell" through the Old Norse word _gala_ —"to sing"—and the Danish word _gal_ —"furious." Anybody who has stood on a Scilly hilltop during a gale knows that, like a Scottish hilltop, it endures an especially furious shriek of a song.) In his account "The Cruise of the _Tomtit_ ," the Victorian novelist Wilkie Collins quotes a letter from a friend whom he invited on a September cruise down the north coast of Cornwall to the Scillies but who declined because the cruise was too near the autumnal equinox, a good time for a gale. "You may meet with a gale that will blow you out of the water," the friend warns. "You are running a risk, in my opinion, of the most senseless kind." Another friend writes, "If I were only a single man, there is nothing I should like better than to join you. But I have a wife and family, and I can't reconcile it to my conscience to risk being drowned." And a third friend advises, "Don't come back bottom upwards."
In late July 1936, a force 10 gale hit the small fleet of boats approaching Britain in a transatlantic race from Bermuda to Cuxhaven, Germany. Ben Ames, an American who sailed in the race in a German yacht, _Hamburg_ , described the gale in an article in the October 1936 issue of _Yachting:_
Only when we were three hundred miles south-west of the Fastnet, scudding before another heavy blow, did we get a peep out of [the radio]: "A depression south-west of Ireland is moving rapidly toward the east. . . ." So were we.
It was this depression that dropped the barometer steadily at the rate of one millimeter [1.3 millibars] per hour for fifteen hours while the wind increased and the weather changed to the leaden dull gray of the Irish coast. By morning the seas had made up and, under a lowering sky, we ran before an angry sea, long cresting greybacks, a regular Fastnet sea. Under close reefed mainsail and storm jib, we raced before combers whose trough was as deep as our ship was long. Lifted high on the back of a wave which rose mountain high behind us, we careened dizzily down its face in a fury of foam at the speed of a surfboard. As the wave overtook us, we were brought up sharply, and the water roared under our counter, leaving us wallowing sickeningly as the bow settled, burying the length of the ship in the next wave ahead. At this moment the ship, seemingly with no headway, felt as though she had given up struggling and might be dragged down by the forces opposing her. Then, recovering, she would shake the load of water from her decks and race before the next greyback.
It was anxious work at the tiller. Twice, curling breakers crashed over the stern, filling the decks and flooding the cockpit. But we were expecting them and were securely lashed in the cockpit. They did no harm except to fill a sea boot and once catch the companionway hatch partly open and send half a ton of water below.
The sun came out for a time to light up the wind-swept seascape. A vicious wind whipped the tops off the breaking waves in a thin cutting spray that stung like hail. We were making eight and a half to nine knots before it when the slides at the top of the mainsail started to go—the marlin seizing began to part. We lowered the mainsail to repair the slides, but soon found it unwise to attempt to reset it. The wind was probably up to force 10 and, under one hundred square feet of storm jib, we ran before it, making five knots. We tried our favorite raffee [a small squaresail], but the ship rolled her decks under and we took it in again. When the wind eased a bit, we set the staysail and drove on toward our landfall.
At dusk, on the twentieth day, we climbed the rigging and found three low black humps on the horizon to the north slightly more solid than the heaving sea around them. They were islands—the Scillies. As night fell, the flashing lights showed Bishop Rock astern and the Wolf [Rock] abeam. We were in the Channel.
Written in the classic narrative style of sea stories, Ames's account is of a boat heavier and slower than most of the yachts hit by the worst of the 1979 gale. Though _Hamburg_ had her problems, neither she nor her crew was hurt. The seas the author described (and photographed for the article) were large and broke from time to time, but they do not seem to have been as inherently vicious as the waves that battered much of the Fastnet fleet. _Hamburg_ 's waves were the seas that offshore sailors believe they can cope with. What most of the Fastnet sailors encountered were the nasty, curling breakers usually associated with a rocky lee shore or with the early-nineteenth-century sea battle paintings of J.M.W. Turner and Philip James de Loutherbourg, in which jawlike waves break through the cannon smoke to devour helpless sailors clinging to shattered spars.
In mid-August 1970, a depression took a path similar to the one taken by the 1979 cell, swinging over Ireland during the early hours on Sunday, August 16. It poured several inches of rain on England, causing severe flooding. Although the Fastnet race was not being sailed (it is a bienniel race sailed in odd-numbered years) several ocean races were under way. A fleet of boats between twenty and thirty feet in length was racing around the Isle of Wight, and six of the twenty-one starters withdrew when the gale quickly built. Only one boat required assistance—her rudder broke. The London _Times_ boating correspondent, John Nicholls, described the race as "one of those events that will be talked about long after the rest of the season is forgotten." Meanwhile, several boats were missing in the Western Approaches. One, a Royal Navy yacht named _Temeraire_ , became the focus of a search that included a helicopter, two frigates, a German ship, and two minesweepers. Twelve hours after she was reported missing, _Temeraire_ was located and towed to port by the Penlee, Cornwall, lifeboat. One of her crew, Sublieutenant Tony Higham, was quoted by the _Times_ as saying that "the seas were reaching the top of the mast—about thirty-five feet—certainly enough to overpower a small yacht."
While those descriptions confirm the belief that fierce storms are no novelty, they do not prove that bad weather always precisely repeats itself. This is so even in the same storm. An extraordinary aspect of the 1979 Fastnet gale is that while many survivors agreed to a considerable extent about the wind and sea conditions, some have entirely different accounts of what happened between early Tuesday morning and late Tuesday night. One is tempted to explain these differences with the Rashomon Premise, which is inspired by the Japanese film in which several different witnesses give varying accounts of a crime, each dependent upon the social and psychological perspective of the narrator. In this case, however, we are dealing with observable data that share a constant standard: the ease with which a boat was steered under a given spread of sail. By applying this standard and evaluating these stories, we may be able to judge whether or not the conditions were the same everywhere on the course in the Western Approaches.
**Looking astern from _Hamburg_ during the 1936 transatlantic race In conditions that the photographer described as "a regular Fastnet sea."**
**Taken forty-three years apart, these photographs show the waters of the Western Approaches In strong gale conditions.**
**Having surfed down one wave, and having caught Its crest at the back of their necks, Eric Swenson at the wheel of _Toscana_ , with Stuart Woods (left) and Dale Cheek ( _right_ ), prepare for the next sea beginning to rise behind them. Sherry Jagerson took this picture while clinging to the mast.**
**The author at the helm of Toscana on Tuesday morning as Susan Noyes and John Ruch endure the cold. _Toscana_ was making nine and sometimes ten knots under forestaysail and triple-reefed mainsail.**
_Ben Ames, Sherry Jagerson, and Nick Noyes_
_Toscana_ rarely experienced a sea that was much more dangerous than the ones that had driven _Hamburg_ during the force 10 gale forty-three years earlier. We kept going at near maximum speed and under excellent control, we were able to tack into the wind and around Fastnet Rock, and the two helmsmen, Eric Swenson and myself, were able to steer for hours without losing control of the wheel. As Eric wrote later, "It was a wrestling match, but one that was never in doubt." By comparison, the helmsmen of _Aries_ , a forty-six-footer on the American Admiral's Cup team, at times could not hold the steering wheel. "The boat was totally out of control," her navigator, Dave Kilponen, remembered. _Aries_ rounded Fastnet Rock just after midnight; by 2:00 A.M. Tuesday, she was swept by breaking waves about once every ten minutes. The farther east she sailed, the rougher the seas became. At 5:00 A. M., when she was about fifty miles east of the Rock, she was being swept once every minute. As she surfed down waves under storm jib alone, Kilponen said, "the rudder started with a low vibration and ended up a jet engine whine." The mast shook so violently that a running backstay fell off and a spreader cracked.
_Aries_ was a type of boat different from _Toscana_ , light, shallow, and tricky to sail well. Yet a boat about five hours ahead of her that was very similar in concept to _Toscana_ was having her difficulties, too. This yacht was _Tenacious_ , a sixty-one-footer owned by the flamboyant American Ted Turner.
_Tenacious_ rounded Fastnet Rock at 6:30 Monday evening. Assuming that she averaged nine knots as she sailed closehauled and then reached toward the Isles of Scilly, she was approximately ninety-five miles down the course at 5:00 A.M., when _Aries_ 's worst troubles started and when _Toscana_ turned the Rock. At about that time, when _Toscana_ was beating to windward over the last few miles under triple-reefed mainsail and forestaysail in about fifty knots of wind, _Tenacious_ —thirteen feet longer, more stable, and more buoyant—was reaching across at least sixty knots of wind under number-4 jib alone. Turner had ordered the mainsail lowered just after midnight. Even under this small rig she suffered knockdowns. Once she was badly rolled while her navigator, Peter Bowker, was on deck trying to fix her position with a portable radio direction finder. Bowker, who was not wearing a safety harness, was thrown heavily against the helmsman, Jim Mattingly, and their combined force dented the stainless-steel steering wheel. Gary Jobson, a watch captain in _Tenacious_ since 1977, noticed that for the first time in his experience she was leaking.
When the wind veered into the north-west and came directly over the big white sloop's transom, Turner's crew set the number-4 jib and the reaching jib "wing and wing"—one trimmed to port, the other trimmed to starboard, and each held steady by a spinnaker pole that was secured to the mast. This is the classic rig for running before strong winds; boats of all sizes have sailed for weeks on end like this, dead before the wind and easily steered, since the sideways forces on the two sails tend to balance out. It is an illegal rig for racing if the mainsail is also carried. _Tenacious_ ran this way for a period of at least two hours, according to Greg Shires, who was in her crew. Meanwhile, many other boats were difficult to steer until their skippers sailed a safer and longer course ten or twenty degrees to windward of a dead run. ( _Tenacious_ eventually won the race with best corrected time.)
If _Toscana_ had been sailing near _Tenacious_ , I doubt if we would have been able to carry more sail area than the larger boat did. Designed by the same man, Olin Stephens, and with approximately the same shape and proportions, the two boats probably behave similarily in rough weather, which is a way of saying that the conditions in which they were sailing were strikingly different.
**Ted Turner's _Tenacious_ , a sixty-one-footer, was near the area of greatest distress. During one roll, her navigator was thrown Into her helmsman and the steering wheel was dented. _Tenacious_ eventually won the race on corrected time.** _Barry Pickthall_
Another big American boat, _Boomerang_ , a sixty-four-footer owned by George Coumentaros, rounded Fastnet Rock about three hours behind _Tenacious._ When the force 10 gale swept in, her crew shortened sail until they flew only the number-4 jib—the next smallest to the forestaysail and the storm jib. At 8:00 A.M. the wind increased. The crew set the forestaysail and, during a bad knockdown, cut the sheets, halyard, and tack on the number-4 jib, allowing the sail to blow away to leeward. The waves built until, under forestaysail alone, the big yacht began surfing wildly at enormous speeds, once registering 24.6 knots on her speedometer. A major problem was avoiding other yachts. "We set a careful watch for smaller boats laboring in the troughs of waves as we raced down the crests," a _Boomerang_ crew member, Jeff Neuberth, wrote in _Yachting_ after the race. "Avoiding collision was of paramount concern. We passed twenty to thirty boats with either bare poles and a skeleton crew or no crew on deck at all, and several boats hove-to with minimal canvas set. . . . The rescue helicopters, the spotter planes, and the radio traffic all indicated to us that the smallest boats were really having a rough go of it. The radio traffic to and from the _Overijssel_ and the number of helicopters in the area indicated that the severity of the wind and sea were getting to the smaller boats." The gale could also have been getting to the larger boats, but Neuberth, like many crew members in big boats that day, clearly had faith in his own vessel if only because of her size. If _Boomerang_ was close enough to the area of greater problems to see the rescue helicopters and hear the guard ship's radio transmissions, then the wind and sea that were driving her to such great speeds under so little sail must also have been experienced by the boats in distress. She was roughly one hundred miles down the course at 8:00 A. M. Fifty miles to the north-west, _Toscana_ 's anemometer showed a steady fifty to fifty-five knots, and under considerably more sail than _Boomerang_ was carrying, we rarely reached speeds higher than ten knots as we surfed down long, high, and manageable waves.
Another big boat ahead of _Toscana_ was _Siska_ , a lightweight seventy-seven-footer owned by an Australian, Roily Tasker. "I've never seen anything worse, and I've sailed in fifty-five knots before," one of her crew members, Gerry McGarry, told a reporter from the _Sydney Morning Herald._ "The tops of the waves were breaking and toppling over in the wind. We could imagine what they could do to a small boat. We continued racing, but it was survival conditions, really. . . . Our thoughts were for the little boats when we started getting distress calls. We were kept busy relaying the calls." As if to prove—despite the laws of proportion and the confidence of their crews—that even large boats were not immune from the gale, _Siska_ 's boom broke as the wind died, and she finished the race with her mainsail awkwardly trimmed.
Meanwhile, the small yachts on which everybody was expending so much concern were coping with the gale with various degrees of success. Three or four hours ahead of _Toscana_ , fast boats like _Imp_ and _Eclipse_ reached along under mainsail or small jib alone. Many crews later said that they would have preferred to set storm trysails, but because the race regulations had not required them, the weight-conscious crews had not brought these small sails along. With jibs set alone, way forward on the bow, many boats were unbalanced and difficult to steer. The helmsmen had to work hard to stay on course and to avoid broaching. In _Toscana_ , more able to carry sail, our triple-reefed mainsail and the forestaysail were set so closely together that the center of pressure of the wind on the sails was almost directly above the center of pressure of the water on the hull. Steering the unbalanced boats was like driving a car with poor shock absorbers and a back trunk full of sandbags: the front end is light, the back end is heavy, and on every sway to one side the car wants to steer to the other side. In both cars and boats, imbalance demands extremely careful steering if the vehicle is to stay on course. Steering the better balanced _Toscana_ was like driving a well-tuned car in which the weight is evenly distributed. Control was positive and relatively untiring.
**After their carbon fiber rudder snapped, the crew of Casse Tete _V_ steers using a spinnaker pole as a rudder, as big seas still run.** _Ambrose Greenway_
Whether or not they were unbalanced, an enormous number of boats went out of control in the seas. The postrace inquiry conducted jointly by the Royal Ocean Racing Club and the Royal Yachting Association included a questionnaire sent to all Fastnet race boats in which the skippers were asked if they were knocked down to horizontal or almost horizontal (90 degrees) and beyond horizontal (including a 360-degree roll). Of the 235 skippers who responded to the questionnaire, fully 113 (or 48 percent) said their boats had been knocked down to horizontal or almost horizontal. Amazingly, 77 skippers (or 33 percent) said they had been rolled over. In other words, 25 percent of the entire 303-boat Fastnet race fleet capsized entirely—the equivalent of one-quarter of all cars in the Indianapolis 500 crashing. In the accounts of the handful of previous capsizings of individual boats—off Cape Horn, or in Atlantic storms—the point has usually been made that the crews were extremely lucky to have survived. That the calamity occurred to so many boats in a single twenty-hour period is mind-numbing evidence of extraordinary conditions.
A boat that runs before a gale at too great a speed may capsize by going too fast down the face of a wave, pushing her bow into the back of the wave ahead, and pitchpoling over her bow onto her deck. More likely, she may broach (heel to one side and suddenly head in the other direction) on the face of one wave, end up with her side to the waves, and then be smashed amidships by several tons of water breaking off the following wave. If sailing too slowly, she may be overtaken and "pooped" by a wave that breaks over her stern and into her cockpit. Such a breaker could swamp her and eventually roll her over. Lying ahull, at about thirty degrees to the direction of the waves with no speed on, is thought by many sailors to be the best way to avoid pitchpoling, rolling, and pooping. But in massively breaking seaways, the boat may be even more vulnerable lying a-hull than she would be running before it under control or heaving-to—working slowly across the seas under a storm sail.
_Police Car_ , a lightweight forty-two-foot boat on the Australian Admiral's Cup team, was three times knocked over to about 120 degrees, putting her mast in the water, while running before it at what her crew thought was a safe speed of five or six knots. Apparently, she was going too slowly to allow the helmsmen to steer around bad waves. Her crew recognized the problem and increased her average speed to about eight knots by changing the trim of her storm jib (the only sail they had up, since even with four reefs the mainsail was too big; her owner had not brought a storm trysail). She sometimes surfed down waves at much higher speeds, and her helmsmen had to be alert to any bad waves that might come along or that they might plow into. Chris Bouzaid, an experienced ocean-racing sailor, was a helmsman in _Police Car;_ later, he described the conditions in an article in _Yachting:_
". . . Every sea was different. Some of them we would square away and run down the front of. Others were just far too steep to do this. One imagines a sea to be a long sausagelike piece of water moving across the ocean. However, this was not the case at all as these seas had too many breaks in them and were not uniform. We found that in many cases we could pick our way through the seas, finding a little valley between seas and ducking through, now that we had more boat speed. Once we got all of this together, we had very little trouble. We found that we were managing to avoid all the breaking seas, either by cutting through the sea and going beyond the breaks, or bearing away on the sea prior to the break to avoid having it hit the boat. During the next four hours, we were in fact only hit once by a breaking sea, and that was only because the helmsman (me) was talking to the other crew members and not concentrating on the job at hand." Unfortunately, few helmsmen of Fastnet race boats were as skillful and knowledgeable as Bouzaid.
Another vivid description of the sea was written for private circulation by John Ellis, owner of the thirty-two-footer _Kate._ While his estimates of wind strength and wave height were conservative compared with those of other Fastnet race survivors—the wind, he thought, rarely got over fifty knots and "by no stretch of the imagination could the seas have been higher than twenty-five feet"—Ellis shared in Bouzaid's belief that the shape of the waves determined their effects:
**_Police Car_ , a light, well-sailed forty-two-footer on the winning Australian Admiral's Cup team, was rolled down several times before her crew discovered that making her go faster also made her more seaworthy. Like many boats, she did not carry a storm trysail; like many crews, they wished they had.** _William Payne_
The frequency was much too short for comfort, giving steep wall-sided seas, streaked heavily with foam and breaking (at worst) in the top six feet. More usually, the top three to four feet would break. What seemed to happen was that three or four seas would build up into a succession of breakers, although these would not break along their whole length but in isolated cusps which, having broken along their length, would then break outwards behind the fast-moving crest in a sort of saucer of outward-breaking crestlets. At no stage did we see the force 11–12 type of spume (which we have read about but not seen) which is said to turn the whole sea surface into one coherent, blinding sheet of wind-borne spray.
Looking downwind, one could see the wave trains forming and dissipating in moderate order with, occasionally, the odd monster humping its back well above the average height—say another six feet. The occurrence of these was, as we say, occasional but not unusual and they were responsible for the number of poopings which we experienced. Turning to this phenomenon for a moment, let us confess that we could not, of course, hold our heading of 20 degrees with precision. Normally, we could hold this between 10 degrees and 30 degrees. The total maximum swing was more like 360 degrees to 45 degrees, when hit by breakers. The poopings occurred when we were close to the 45 degree heading, with a breaking sea closing. The helmsman would hear, but not see, the breaker coming: it would break cleanly up the retrousé transom . . . over the helmsman and his relief, into the cockpit, up over the washboard and hatch, and plane on over the ship, leaving cleanly by the bow.
_Kate_ 's experienced crew gave up racing at 4:00 A.M. on Tuesday, when she was about ninety miles from the Rock. They threw over lines and doused all sails. Her owner concluded that she survived at least partly because they kept her speed low. By 10:00 A.M., he wrote, "it was beginning to be borne in upon us that we should come to no harm. Indeed, the owner confesses that during the afternoon watch, he found himself chanting inspiring songs at the wheel, exhilaration having succeeded apprehension."
Many of the most frightening—in fact murderous—events happened within forty miles of _Kate_ and _Boomerang._ Heading east in this area were _Tenacious, Acadia_ , and _Police Car._ Trying to head west were _Grimalkin, Trophy, Windswept_ , and possibly Major Maclean in _Fluter._ When the coastguards compiled their report on the search and rescue operations conducted by the helicopters, they provided twenty estimated positions of boats and equipment that were located, aided, or retrieved on August 14, 15, and 16. While the positions are not entirely reliable, if only because the pilots were extremely busy with rescue efforts, the trend is clear: most of the distress seen by the helicopter crews took place within a circle with a diameter of forty miles whose center was at 50° 42' north and 7° 14' west—a point seventy miles west-north-west of Land's End, one hundred miles south-south-east of Fastnet Rock, and ten miles north of the rhumb line, or direct course, between the two landmarks. All of the boats located by the helicopters in this forty-mile circle were smaller than thirty-five feet in length. (See Appendix III.)
After the race, many would claim that smaller boats suffered the greatest damage simply because they were smaller boats. This argument was especially popular among crews in large yachts who neglected to see that boats such as _Tenacious, Acadia_ , and _Boomerang_ —each longer than fifty feet—experienced severe difficulties in the same general area. What was special about this area of the Western Approaches was not only that it was filled with small boats but that it was also overflowing with especially strong gusts and dangerous seas. Sixty miles to the north-west, we in _Toscana_ experienced nowhere near the same extremely violent conditions. Only by sheer bad luck did so many small boats find themselves in this area, more than ten hours from shore, just as the gale swept through.
Weather can behave in strange and mysterious ways; calms and storms may be small and localized or they may cover entire oceans. Atmospheric pressure, surface and submarine land formations, and the spin of the earth can combine to create storms out of calms and maelstroms out of millponds. One part of a body of water may be safe while another is lethal. What usually makes the difference is the size and shape of the waves.
Waves often are compared with the motions of a rope secured at one end and moved up and down at the other end at a steady speed. Crests and troughs will migrate from one end to the other in a rhythmic, predictable pattern. The fibers in the rope may stretch, but they do not move. Similarily, the water at the surface of waves does not move markedly in the direction toward which the waves roll (the surface water does, however, rotate in small circular orbits, forward on the crest and backward in the trough). The length of the rope and the strength of the person moving the free end determine the height, shape, and length (distance between the crests) of the man-made waves.
The size and shape of water waves depend upon several factors: the strength of the wind, the amount of time that the wind blows from a given direction, the fetch (or distance over which the wind blows), the depth of the water, and the direction and strength of currents. Through observation and experiment, oceanographers have developed mathematical tables that can help in the prediction of wave height and length. For example, a twenty-knot wind that blows over a fetch of one hundred nautical miles of deep water for twelve hours will generate waves whose maximum height is six feet and whose length is two hundred feet, and which travel at a speed of more than twenty knots. A forty-knot wind with the same fetch and blowing for the same length of time will generate waves as large as _thirty_ feet, with a length of six hundred feet and a speed of more than thirty-five knots. (The reason why wave size increases by a factor of five while the wind speed merely doubles is that the wind's _force_ is directly proportional to the square of the wind speed.) As the wind dies, so do the waves, but at a much slower rate.
When waves encounter contrary currents, they increase in size by large factors. The Scripps Institute of Oceanography, in California, estimates that wave height may be doubled by a contrary current of only two or three knots. Likewise, waves increase in height when they pass over shoal water, and changes in the contour of the sea bed, even in relatively deep water, may affect the height of waves. As the height increases, a wave may steepen to the point where the base can no longer support the top, and the wave collapses on itself and becomes a breaker. The pile of white water that falls off the top of a breaking wave may be accelerated by the wind that created the wave to begin with.
A type of wave that all seamen fear is the rogue wave, which angles across the train of normal seas and sometimes collides with one to create a breaker. The oceanographer William G. Van Dorn writes in his book _Oceanography and Seamanship_ that 5 percent of deep sea waves are abnormally high "rogues." They may be caused by distant winds of a force and direction different from the local wind or by some other special circumstance. Usually, these rogue waves pass by vessels with little effect. Judging from the reports of the sailors caught toward the middle of the Western Approaches during the Fastnet storm, rogue waves were more the norm there than the exception.
Mathematics were working against the Fastnet race crews. On the top of the long south-west groundswell was one set of waves created by the force 6 south wind that blew all Monday afternoon, plus a second set pushed up by the force 9 and 10 south-west gale that blew from 11:00 P.M. Monday until about 5:00 A.M. Tuesday. When the wind continued to strengthen and veer as the depression passed to the north, the first two sets remained, and by 9:00 A.M. Tuesday there was a third set of waves running in from the north-west. As each set of waves aged, it increased in height and speeded up, so by midmorning Tuesday there was a great clash of ten-, twenty-, and perhaps even forty-foot waves from many directions, creating a sea of breakers.
The depression itself may have contributed to the roughness of the seas. As the fast-moving deepening low (bringing on the fourth lowest barometric pressure for a British August since 1900) sped across the Approaches, it created a mound of water under its center. Before this mound was a surge that, like a big wave, pushed east, creating currents that swirled around the depression and perhaps turned back against the wind. Saltwater people tend to believe that current is caused only by the tide, but on the huge nontidal Great Lakes of North America, one and two-knot currents called seiches are created in the surge of water ahead of moving depressions. On the lakes these currents can conspire with gale-force winds to create mammoth seas that have been known to swallow up freighters and tankers. The same phenomenon may have occurred in the bay-like Western Approaches during the Fastnet gale. In addition, wind can create a current on any body of water—as much as half a knot in a force 6 wind blowing for twelve hours.
The veer in wind direction and in the direction of currents caused by the depression was particularly sudden in the southern part of the low-pressure cell, where the storm had changed its shape from that of a rough circle to a teardrop. A trough of low pressure ran from north to south down the center of this teardrop, and where the trough was deepest, the angle between the contour lines of atmospheric pressure was greatest. Since wind direction tends to be roughly parallel to the gradient lines (actually, angled in at about fifteen degrees around a depression), the wind shift at this point was more sudden than it was at the more gradual turns in the lines of equal air pressure. As well, the wind probably blew strongest in the trough. Directly in the path of this moving line of suddenly veering wind were the boats in the middle of the Western Approaches. Because the wind veer was abrupt, the angle between the old and the new waves was sharp—as much as forty-five degrees.
Apparently, the worst disturbance caused by the depression was relatively local. Later on Tuesday, when the storm swept across southern Scotland, it kicked up waves large enough to force the cancellation of the Hull to Rotterdam ferry on which several horses in the British show jumping team were booked ("Heavy seas delay British horses," ran a headline in Thursday's _Daily Telegraph_ ), while, 125 miles to the south, the Harwich to Hook of Holland ferry ran on schedule.
There is other evidence that the storm was more violent near the rhumb line between Land's End and Fastnet Rock than farther south. A man from Houston, Texas, named Bill Wallace was completing a single-handed transatlantic voyage in a thirty-foot sloop when the gale broke on Monday night. By his calculation, he was then seventy-five miles west-south-west of Bishop Rock lighthouse in the Isles of Scilly, and about ninety miles south of the center of the forty-mile circle in which so many Fastnet race yachts suffered damage. Wallace told the company that built his boat (which summarized his report in a news release) that he experienced no major difficulties. He lowered the sails, set the self-steerer to keep the boat at an angle of 30 degrees to the wind, and went below. Unlike many of the boats that lay a-hull at the same angle, his was rolled down only once, to 120 degrees ("And I've got the coffee stains on the cabin overhead to show it"), and flying tin cans cut his scalp. Solid water never came on deck or below. His boat, an American design called the J-30, is not radically different from boats such as _Grimalkin_ and _Windswept._ Wallace also reported that the night never darkened. "By nightfall in the middle of the gale, the stars were out, then the moon came up," he said. The only light that many Fastnet race crews saw was that from a flare, and we in _Toscana_ enjoyed the moon for only half an hour before the blackness closed back in. (Like many people who were on the sidelines, Wallace could not resist the temptation to judge the Fastnet crews. "There was a lot of panic out there," he said. "Those people racing haven't encountered the ocean and what it can be like. Most of them have just been sailing around bays and harbors." What he probably did not know was that, whatever their experience, most of the racing crews probably faced exceptional conditions quite different from those that he encountered that same night.)
**A synoptic chart of Low Y at 7:00 A. M. (British Summer Time) on Tuesday, August 14. The drastic wind shift in the trough was probably a major cause of the dangerous seas In the middle of the Western Approaches.**
A problematical explanation for the extraordinary seas involves a bank of relatively shallow water that lay in the path of the trough of low atmospheric pressure and its violent winds. Called the Labadie Bank, it is about ten miles south of the Land's End to Fastnet Rock rhumb line and is also near the forty-mile circle. This relatively shoal area has depths of between twenty-one and fifty fathoms and averages about forty fathoms (a fathom is six feet). The water in the Western Approaches is by no means deep, since it lies over the European Continental Shelf and has an average depth of about sixty fathoms. Although oceanographers have argued that a difference in depth of twenty fathoms so far under the surface is not significant enough to cause especially bad waves, the Labadie Bank has earned a reputation for rough water among the fishermen who frequent it.
At least one yachtsman has agreed with the fishermen. During the 1931 Fastnet race, the fifty-one-footer _Maitenes II_ was swept over the Labadie Bank in a rapidly veering force 9 to force 10 gale much like the 1979 storm. Her skipper, Commander W. B. Luard, Royal Navy (Retired), later devoted a chapter in his book _Where the Tides Meet_ to the race and the storm.
"Had we been in open waters," he wrote, "she would have lain, as she wished, under bare poles with absolute safety; but the steepness and the irregularity of the breaking seas made it essential, in my opinion, to keep her bow or stern to them at all costs." A drogue was thrown over the stern to slow her down, and the crew began to pour fish oil into the sea to attempt to flatten the waves, an accepted storm tactic. It was at this point that Colonel C.H. Hudson was washed overboard while adjusting one of the oil bags. He grabbed the line to the drogue, but it was torn from his hands and, weighed down by foul-weather gear and boots, he sank.
As she drifted east at six knots, _Maitenes_ experienced increasingly vicious seas that occasionally came over the stern and pooped her. The crew, demoralized by the loss of the colonel and exhausted by their efforts, sighted a trawler and sent a message by semaphore requesting that it stand by until the gale moderated, when they could be taken off. "I estimated we were then approximately eighty miles south-east (magnetic) of Fastnet Rock," Luard wrote. He went on:
"About an hour later, wind and sea having again increased, I semaphored that we could no longer run with safety if the weather became any worse, and the trawler replied that she had just received another gale warning. The seas now changed in character—we were on the Labadie Bank—became still steeper, still more confused and irregular, running in from all sides; and we were pooped heavily several times. Though the glass [barometer] had just started to rise it seemed likely, in view of the renewed gale warning, that it would blow harder than before from west and north-west and drive us onto a lee shore in less than eighteen hours, with, as likely as not, the trawler standing by unable to be of any assistance. On the other hand, it seemed possible that the gale might moderate in time to let us heave-to again on the starboard tack and work clear [of the Cornish coast]. I realized, however, that the ship [ _Maitenes_ ] was in imminent danger of being fatally pooped, and after considering the situation from every point of view, I concluded that I was not justified in taking further risks."
Luard fired off flares, and after great effort and some damage to the yacht and the destruction of the trawler's dory, some fishermen came aboard. As "the ship was clearing the bank, the seas became more regular, and soon the wind started easing." The next morning, _Maitenes_ was taken in tow for Swansea.
" _Maitenes_ is a magnificent sea boat," Luard concluded. "Had we not been driven over the Labadie Bank all would have been well, and had we been off soundings [in the open ocean] there would have been no cause for anxiety; for she could have been left to her own devices, if overpowered by the weight of wind, or been put before the seas and allowed to run with perfect safety. . . . The sea this year was the steepest I have yet seen, often too steep for any boat to rise to; but it seemed, at times, as though the drogue tended to keep her stern from lifting freely. . . . I have come to the conclusion that if caught in a similar sea again I should not attempt to reduce a ship's speed as much as possible, nor keep her running at full speed . . . but aim at striking a happy medium."
Thus did Luard unknowingly anticipate the seamanship problems that so challenged the men and women who raced over the same waters many years later. He ended his account with a warning: "Granted that identical conditions would not be met once again in a thousand times, but it is the thousandth chance that may lead, alas, to tragedy and disaster."
So strongly did Luard believe that the Labadie Bank was important in the creation of bad seas in the Western Approaches that he did not try to explain exactly how such a deep shoal could have such a great effect. Oceanographers might challenge his assumption as another fishermen's superstition, and it is true that fishermen-or at least the English and French fishermen with whom I have talked-fear the bank in bad weather. It is also true that _Maitenes II_ , and many boats in the 1979 Fastnet race, confronted increasingly dangerous seas as they approached the area of the bank. There is no question that the real culprit in both storms was the rapidly shifting force 10 to force 12 wind, which in 1979 veered through 135 degrees, from south to north-west, in a little more than twelve hours. Perhaps the Labadie Bank was disrupting an already confused sea just enough to turn it into a mess of "the most fearsome things." Or the immense variety of winds, waves, surges of water, and currents created by the deep, fast-moving storm could have focused all their energies on the area of water that lay approximately one hundred miles south-south-east of Fastnet Rock.
Whatever the cause of the seaway, there is no doubt about its effects, and, despite the convictions of Commander Luard and several of the survivors of the 1979 storm that they had finally figured out how to survive in those waves, no single storm tactic was a guarantee against disaster. Hilaire Belloc once wrote, "The sea drives truth into a man like salt." The truth here is that there are occasions when men can do little or nothing to help themselves.
## **7** **The Rescuers: Asking the Impossible**
**The lifeboat _Guy and Claire Hunter_ , from St. Mary's, Scilly Isles, in the Western Approaches on Tuesday afternoon. She escorted two boats to port and towed _Festina Tartia_ (which had lost one man) and her surviving crew of six to St. Mary's.** _Royal Navy_
EVER SINCE NOAH, the sea has been a symbol of both salvation and destruction. When Jonah escaped to it, the sea, acting as an agent of God's wrath, almost killed him. After parting for Moses, it drowned the Egyptians. Noah's flood, in fact, is not unique. Among the flood myths of other cultures is that of the pre-Columbian Aztec Indians of Mexico, whose calendar stone depicted three ages of progress leading to a fourth age of destruction. In this fourth age, as Joseph Campbell writes in _The Mythic Image_ , "water, gentle mothering vehicle of the energies of birth, nourishment, and growth, became a deluge." Western man has learned to use the sea for pleasure, and fear of the sea's violence may have become less conscious than faith in its powers of regeneration.
The people of the west of England are not so sanguine. An English folk tale relates how the sea off the north coast of Cornwall calls for its victims. One calm night, "when all was still save the monotonous fall of the light waves upon the sand," a seaman—a fisherman, perhaps, or a pilot—took a walk on a Cornish beach near Porth. A voice came to him from the Western Approaches: "The hour is come, but not the man," the voice said, and repeated the strange message three times. Looking inland, the seaman saw a dark humanlike figure standing on the top of a nearby hill. The figure paused for a moment, and then rushed down the hill and across the beach, and disappeared into the sea.
Lured by fate, profit, or pleasure, men have been rushing down the hills into English waters for centuries, and not all of them have survived. The sea is a common denominator for everybody who lives on the British Isles. Its attractions are represented by a popular BBC television show in which a pleasantly inquisitive man named John Noakes travels Britain in his small ketch, seeking out interesting people. (By contrast, in an American version of _Go with Noakes_ , Charles Kuralt traveled in a mammoth, gas-inhaling camper.) Lifeboat stations are listed along with fire departments on pages devoted to emergency telephone numbers in local directories. Until quite recently, shipwreck and drowning on a massive scale were an accepted part of British life. In 1864, 1,741 ships and 516 lives were lost around the coastline of the United Kingdom; in 1880, 1,303 ships and 2,100 lives; in 1909, 733 ships and 4,738 lives. As the ships decreased in number, they increased in size, so every wreck killed more people than the previous one. On one day in 1859, 195 ships sank or were wrecked. During November 1893, 298 ships foundered.
One of the very worst places for wrecks is the eighty-squaremile archipelago of the Isles of Scilly, twenty-eight miles off Land's End and almost that distance out in the Western Approaches. Gales there are bad and frequent, currents are confused, seas are wild. Until the mid-nineteenth century there was no lighthouse to protect seamen from the chain's west and south sides, and ships searching for the Channel or the Approaches often ran aground there. Constructed on a rock not much larger than a wide boulder, Bishop's Rock lighthouse now towers over the islands; sometimes, the spray from breaking waves seems to tower even higher. Now guarded on the south-west by the Bishop, on the north by Round Island light, and on the east by Wolf Rock and St. Mary's lights, the fifty-odd islands and islets and many rocks of the Scilly Isles are still not much less dangerous now than they were in the 1860s, when they and other landmarks in the Land's End area accounted for the loss of 394 ships, or in 1875, when 335 people died after the ocean liner _Schiller_ foundered on the Retarrier Ledges. It was on the Seven Stones rocks off the Scilles that the tanker _Torrey Canyon_ split apart in 1967, spilling a life-threatening amount of oil into the clear waters and onto sandy beaches in Cornwall, Devon, and Brittany
That no oil fouled the Isles of Scilly is not really surprising. The lucky, semitropical islands have, like the sea around them, been a haven as well as a danger since they were first settled about 3000 B.C. A reflection of this security is one of the charges brought against Thomas Seymour in 1549, when his aspirations to gain control of the crown became known. He was accused of buying "the strong and dangerous Isles of Scilly" and conspiring with pirates to use them as a refuge "if anything for his demerits should be attempted against him." Scillonians (as the islanders call themselves; they are _not_ Cornishmen) have always made excellent use of the chain's isolation and natural strengths, first in Bronze Age tribes, then in medieval religious orders seeking privacy, next in fishing communities, and now in tourist associations.
Throughout, the Scillonians, like island people everywhere, have willingly accepted what the sea has provided for them, and among those gifts have been wrecked ships. From the days when church services were ended at the arrival of news of fresh wrecks, salvaging has been an important part of Scilly life. A man could win a healthy part of a year's income during a few hours of dangerous, wet work helping to salvage a stranded vessel or her cargo.
Today, wrecking remains important but in different ways. Divers, primarily from the mainland, have found treasure in and around the wrecks of four Royal Navy ships, including HMS _Association_ , that were blown by gales onto rocks in 1707, with a loss of almost two thousand men. Other divers have searched for vases and paintings belonging to Sir William Hamilton, the husband of Horatio Nelson's Emma, which were lost when the _Colossus_ sank in 1798. There are others: the _Hollandia_ , whose recovered treasure brought nearly £100,000 in auction; the _Princess Maria_ ; and some 540 other wrecks lying within eight miles of the islands.
Competing with this revival of the salvage business is a small wrecks artifacts industry. A family named Gibson has photographed Cornish and Scilly wrecks since the 1860s, and their shop in Hugh Town, on the chain's main island, St. Mary's, is wallpapered with dramatic, gruesome pictures that are for sale at £1.50. Gibson photographs illustrate at least four books on Scilly wrecks. And on the nearby island of Trescoe, figureheads, trailboards, and other ornaments from wrecks are on display in the aptly named Valhalla Maritime Museum.
While their survival has been dependent upon opportunities provided by visitors, both intended and accidental, Scillonians are warmly generous people. Perhaps their good-heartedness and sympathy toward people in trouble is an admission of their own vulnerability. One Saturday a few months after the Fastnet gale, a "jumble," or bake sale, was held in the tiny schoolhouse on Trescoe Island, on which the famous gardens flourish. The beneficiaries were the Cambodian refugees, whose horrible conditions had just become widely publicized. Children contributed toys, and adults brought pies and jams to the sale. The winter population on the island is not much more than a hundred people, including children, and is not wealthy, yet the sale raised £50.
Two miles and a rough thirty-minute boat ride away in Hugh Town, the Scillies' metropolis with perhaps five hundred yearround residents, stands the great symbol of the Scillonians' generosity of spirit—the boathouse in which rested their lifeboat, the _Guy and Claire Hunter_. There has been a volunteer lifeboat station on St. Mary's continuously since 1874. The island's lifeboat crews had, by November 1979, rescued 627 survivors of founderings.
Scillonians are not the only people to care about saving lives at sea: in Great Britain and Ireland there exist more than two hundred and fifty stations of the Royal National Life-boat Institution, over half of them on year-round duty with boats designed to withstand force 10 and stronger gales in open water. The RNLI was formed in 1824, during the first great boom of commercial sail. As ships increased in number, so too did shipwrecks and loss of life. Acting partly out of the humanitarianism that seemed to strengthen in England along with commerce and the empire, and partly out of fascination with the technical challenge of designing safe boats for difficult conditions, a wealthy idealist named Sir William Hillary founded what was then called the National Institution for the Preservation of Life from Shipwreck. Among the institution's original policies that survive are rules that it be supported by donations; that widows and children of lifeboatmen who die in service be provided for; that special gallantry be recognized with awards; and that, regardless of nationality, any person in distress be attended to.
It took a while for this internationalist, humanitarian organization to gain popular attention. The cause received a boost in 1838 after the exploits of Grace Darling were widely publicized. A lighthouse keeper's daughter living in the Fame Islands, in north-east England, she helped her father rescue five people stranded on a wrecked paddle steamer. Fifty-four people were lost in the wreck. The contrast between the tragedy and the unassuming twenty-two-year-old heroine stimulated immense public interest in lifesaving. (Grace Darling died of tuberculosis four years later.)
As it grew, and as its vessels developed from rowboats to sailing gigs to the massive forty- to fifty-five-foot twin-screw power vessels in use today, the RNLI evolved into a large organization that stood above politics and dispute. The only large American institution even remotely like it is the Red Cross, except that the Red Cross is so ubiquitous in American life that it is all but taken for granted. Nobody takes the lifeboats for granted. On almost every shop counter in England, near the shore or inland, stands a small piggy bank with the shape of a lifeboat. Daily newspapers report lifeboat services (rescue efforts), whether successful or not, in the most respectful language. Sir Winston Churchill's patriotic words about the typical lifeboat summarize the universally held belief that its crews are somehow superhuman: "It drives on with a mercy which does not quail in the presence of death, it drives on as a proof, a symbol, a testimony, that man is created in the image of God, and that virtue and valor have not perished from the British race."
Whether the ten thousand or so lifeboatmen actually believe everything that is said about them is doubtful; many if not most of them are but fishermen in small communities, and the burden of personifying such an institution can be heavy. In any case, few are singled out for national attention, and the head office of the RNLI usually exerts little control over a station's activities. For most lifeboatmen, the local station _is_ the RNLI, and although headquarters in Poole allots them funds and equipment and periodically inspects their boats, they feel beholden to nobody except themselves. Ask a lifeboat coxswain, or skipper, how many people his boat has saved and he will point to a plaque that details every service that his station has performed. Ask him how many have been saved in the history of the RNLI, and he probably will shrug his shoulders. (The answer, provided by the organization's headquarters, is about ninety-five thousand people.)
When the 1979 Fastnet storm struck, the coxswain of the St. Mary's lifeboat was, and had been since 1955, Matthew Lethbridge. He succeeded his father as cox, and his father succeeded _his_ father. The three Lethbridges had commanded the St. Mary's lifeboat for 80 of the 123 years that there had been a station on the island. (The station was founded in 1837, abandoned in 1855, and revived in 1874.) A small, wiry man in his mid-fifties, Lethbridge was one of the few fishermen in Hugh Town who worked his traps and nets alone. He lived in a small row house with his wife and daughter, fished, mended his traps in the off-season, and waited for the call that, he knew, eventually would come from the coastguards to the station's secretary, and then to him. The records that he kept with white paint and brush on black plaques in the boathouse testified to his activities. In some years, the _Guy and Claire Hunter_ was called out ten or twelve times; in other years, she and her eight-man crew went out less frequently. Unless there was a service, they were required to go on a test run every two months, and once a year an inspector came down from RNLI headquarters to look the boat over.
Sometimes when they went out, the crew had little more to do than to tow a disabled yacht through the maze of unmarked rocks that protects Hugh Town's harbor. At other times, though, there was serious lifesaving work. In 1955, his first year as cox, the institution awarded Matt Lethbridge a bronze medal, its third-highest award for gallantry, for his efforts in rescuing a crew of twenty-five from a Panamanian steamer. Twelve years later, the boat took twenty-two men off the _Torrey Canyon_. Also in 1967, he was awarded a silver medal (the second-highest award) and his second in command and the boat's engineer received bronze medals for rescuing nineteen people from a large German power yacht and towing her to safety during a gale—a twenty-seven-hour service. Subsequent silver medals came three and nine years later.
**Surrounded by holidaymakers, the St. Ives lifeboat is hauled out late on Tuesday afternoon. She was at sea for nine hours, thirty-four minutes, and rescued a French yacht taking part in a single-handed race.** _A. W. Besley_
Lethbridge's grandfather had taken the then Prince of Wales (later the Duke of Windsor) out in a lifeboat, and he himself had shown the present Prince of Wales around the _Guy and Claire Hunter_ during one of the Prince's visits to St. Mary's. "We've been out in the _Britannia_ , Pat and me," Lethbridge has said proudly, nodding to his wife. Perhaps it was the only way the Queen could have met him, since Lethbridge had visited the mainland only three times in thirty years, and on one of those occasions, when he went to London in 1976 to receive the British Empire Medal, the Queen was unable to award the medal personally.
Except for the few times when he endured London, Matt Lethbridge had never been away from the sea. During World War II, he served in Royal Air Force search and rescue boats, and returning to St. Mary's, he stepped directly into the lifeboat under his father's command. The second coxswain then was his uncle James; his brothers Harry and Richard now served in his own crew. In 1979, however, the family tradition was about to end, since Matt Lethbridge had no son. Finding a qualified successor for Lethbridge when he would be forced by RNLI statute to retire, at the age of sixty in 1984, might prove to be one of the handful of major crises that the people of the Isles of Scilly have had to face. His standards were high and his reputation was unsullied by any hint of error. Locating a man of Lethbridge's character and skills would have been hard enough in the old days; the facts of life in the late twentieth century seem to discourage the kind of independence and dedication that make such men what they are. With the appearance of huge Russian factory ships and highly efficient smaller vessels, the waters around the Scillies were becoming fished out. Meanwhile, a great influx of tourists during the 1970s had made island life expensive. Some Scillonians adjusted to the new economy and thrived, or at least made do as landlords of guest houses. Others succumbed to the temptations offered by a runaway real estate market and sold their homes to vacationers and moved to the mainland. Scillonians dependent upon fishing or flower farming for their living could but look on with amazement at the way island life had changed. They survived by performing odd jobs. At one time or another, Matt Lethbridge had been a carpenter, a boatbuilder, and a butcher besides tending his nets and traps. He and men like him had stocked the lifeboat for generations, and as they aged, fewer independent, younger men seemed to be there to replace them.
Those worries were not on Matt Lethbridges mind when he was awakened by the telephone early on the morning of August 14. Before the honorary secretary, Tom Buckley, said anything, Lethbridge had guessed the gist of the message. He heard the wind whistling through the streets of Hugh Town, and he knew that it was about the time of the Fastnet race, whose boats he sometimes saw when he was out pulling his crayfish pots near the Bishop. Tom Buckley passed on a message from the Coastguard: a rudderless yacht named _Magic_ was in distress about forty miles north-west of Round Island light.
Lethbridge pulled on his clothes. Five minutes and a fast walk later, he was in the boathouse, which stood twenty feet above the water on a point of land between Hugh Town and Porth Mellon, the old shipbuilding town. Once inside the boathouse, he walked past the tall plaques on which he, his father, and his grandfather had faithfully recorded the services of their lifeboats and past the little room with the marine radio scanner, which, like the instruments in his and every Stilly fisherman's home, automatically searched the frequencies for a transmission. Through a door was the large shed in which sat the _Guy and Claire Hunter_ , high and dry on a trolley. Out of the water, she looked from below like a submarine, forty-seven feet of black and red, powerfully curving in great symmetrical rounds. There was nothing squared-off or blunt to offer unnecessary resistance to waves. A Watson-type lifeboat, she had been designed especially for this duty.
Within minutes, Lethbridge and his seven-man crew were aboard and suited up in foul-weather gear, life jackets, and safety harnesses. With him were the second coxswain, Roy Guy; the mechanic, Bill Burrow, the second mechanic, Harry Lethbridge; the bowman, Richard Lethbridge; and the crewmen, Rodney Terry and Roy Duncan. With the exception of Burrow, the mechanic, whose full-time job it was to maintain the boat, they were volunteers for the first few hours on a service, after which they would receive low pay and, if they were lucky, a reward from anybody they rescued. By tradition, they would not claim salvage on a boat even if they were entitled to it.
Down under the boat, the launchers and slipmen were preparing for the launch. They opened the boathouse doors, letting in a great blast of wind, and after warning the men on deck, let the trolly go. It slid down a ramp, out of the boathouse, and into the water. The time was 3:00 A.M. When the lifeboat drifted clear of the trolly, Matt Lethbridge, standing behind the huge steel wheel in the steering cabin, started the twin engines and pulled away from the ramp. Navigating by memory and radar, he steered through the channels between the islands, islets, and rocks of the Scillies and out into the Western Approaches.
He was not at first surprised by what he saw there. Although he could boast mildly, "Unless it's blowing about seventy, we never used to call it a gale of wind," Lethbridge had occasionally been unsettled by bad weather. A storm in 1974 left his pots hanging off a ledge on the Bishop Rock lighthouse, seventy feet above normal water level. Once he saw spume blow entirely over Trescoe Island, which is two miles long and almost a mile wide and whose maximum elevation is more than a hundred feet. The same gale blew in a four-inch-thick door in the Round Island lighthouse and lifted a hundred-pound boulder several yards up a cliff from a beach. (Later in 1979, his normally cheerful face turned grim and he became silent when he heard that two lifeboats similar to his had capsized off Scotland.) But when he spoke about the Fastnet race gale with a survivor, he said, without heroic swagger, "That was an exceptional gale for you, but it wasn't an exceptional gale for us."
Sliding at nine knots across the south-westerly seas of the predawn hours, the crew saw no boats until a small cruising yacht under storm jib came by, followed by a large sloop sailing very fast under shortened rig toward the Bishop. Lethbridge guessed that she probably was one of the leaders in the Fastnet race fleet. By 9:00 A. M., when the _Guy and Claire Hunter_ was almost fifty miles north-west of Round Island, the sea was making up with a ferocity that Lethbridge had not expected. He had experienced heavier seas, waves with larger walls of breaking water, but he had not experienced so _many_ breaking waves in these wind conditions. The sea, he observed, was worse than the wind strength would warrant. Several times the lifeboat's decks were awash up to her crewmen's waists, and one wave broke through the small window in the back of the helmsman's cabin, drenching and destroying Richard Lethbridge's camera, which had withstood several gales. (After the race, the second coxswain of the lifeboat based at Padstow, Cornwall, said, "extreme conditions were exceptional," in a letter about the gale to a yachting magazine.)
Lethbridge received reports from _Magic_ but they were incomplete and he could not locate the rudderless yacht. His crew spotted HMS _Anglesey_ , the Royal Navy fisheries protection vessel, standing by the dismasted _Bonaventure II._ When both the lifeboat and the ship were in the troughs of waves, they lost sight of the _Anglesey;_ Lethbridge estimated the maximum wave height at thirty to forty feet and he overheard the _Anglesey_ reporting sixty-footers.
Soon after, they located a Royal Navy helicopter hovering over a yacht named _Victride_ , whose crew seemed to want to be taken off. In a dialogue over their radios, the helicopter pilot and Lethbridge agreed that the crew need not abandon the yacht, but that the lifeboat should escort her to safety. This would allow the helicopter to fly to another yacht in distress several miles away. With all the radio frequencies jammed with distress calls, Lethbridge had to concentrate hard to make out the pilot's voice and keep track of their conversation. Told that they would be escorted to port, the crew of the thirty-five-foot French yacht appeared satisfied, and they got under way under storm jib. _Victride_ was knocked down several times by waves, and Lethbridge noticed that her companionway hatch was open. Since they did not have the same type of radio, there was nothing much that he could do to help. By this time, Lethbridge had become aware of the extent of the disaster; seven lifeboats had been called out. Soon after beginning to escort _Victride_ , he received a radioed request for help from another yacht, _Pegasus._ Lethbridge gave _Pegasus_ the course to Round Island, where all three boats made a rendezvous late on Tuesday evening, and the lifeboat led the two yachts into the harbor.
When he docked for refueling at 8:00 P.M., Lethbridge was surprised to hear that the conditions had been as bad at St. Mary's as in the Approaches. Several cruising boats had dragged their anchors and gone ashore; others had been rounded up by fishermen as they were blown across the harbor toward the beach. Brian Jenkins, a fisherman and slipway helper at the lifeboat boathouse, had even swum after a drifting yacht in order to get a tow line aboard her.
Although Lethbridge looked tired after his 17 hours of pounding, his spirits were high. With a sparkle in his eye, he told his friend Jenkins about the rough seas and how well the lifeboat had handled them. Once the fuel tanks were topped off, he was prepared to go out again immediately, and only after a brisk warning from the town's doctor did he allow his crew a chance to change into dry clothes and eat a quick meal. By nine, the _Guy and Claire Hunter_ was back in service three miles west of Round Island, where she made a rendezvous with _Festina Tertia_ , one of whose crew had been swept away and another, suffering from hypothermia, taken off by a helicopter. Demoralized, cold, and exhausted, her crew requested a tow into St. Mary's. The lifeboat crew threw a line, and soon they were underway through Trescoe Channel. At one stage, the line became tangled in the yacht's keel, and the two vessels drifted alongside each other for a while until the snag was cleared. By midnight, the yacht was secured at the town quay and Matt Lethbridge and his lifeboat crew were in their homes, having been out for a total of 19 hours, 45 minutes. The thirteen lifeboats called out from English and Irish stations during the gale were in service for 169 hours, 36 minutes and towed in nine yachts and escorted nine more. Some seventy yachtsmen were aboard the yachts towed in.
**The St. Mary's lifeboat was in service for more than 19 hours on Tuesday. Twelve other lifeboats were In service for a total of more than 133 hours on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. Fatigue shows on the faces of the crew of the lifeboat on return to its station. The man holding the cup is the coxswain, Matthew Lethbridge.** _Gibsons of Scilly_
Yet an irony of the gale was that the lifeboats were not able to perform their primary mission—to save lives. Only when transferring a few rescued sailors from commercial vessels to shore did any lifeboats actually carry survivors; the rest of the time, they were either searching for, escorting, or towing yachts. The actual rescues of sailors from the water or from life rafts were performed by helicopters, commercial vessels, or yachts. This was true largely because the area of greatest distress was fifty to one hundred miles from the lifeboat stations that were called onto duty, a distance that a normal lifeboat powering at nine knots could cover in no fewer than five or six hours but that a helicopter could fly in less than half an hour.
A prototype of a new type of high-speed lifeboat, the fifty-four-foot Arun, was stationed at Falmouth, on the Channel side of Cornwall. Named the _Elizabeth Ann_ , she and her crew were offshore for more than forty-three hours during the gale, at first looking for a boy missing from a beach near Falmouth, then, after a hundred-mile sprint at seventeen knots around Land's End, searching for distressed yachts in the Western Approaches. When she towed a rudderless Swedish yacht, _Big Shadow_ , into St. Mary's on Wednesday, some Scillonians were mildly offended that she and not the _Guy and Claire Hunter_ performed the service, although Matt Lethbridge paid a friendly visit to the Falmouth crew and inspected their boat. Later on Wednesday, she took the abandoned _Golden Apple of the Sun_ under tow from HMS _Broadsword._ On returning to Falmouth at noontime Thursday, the _Elizabeth Ann_ had run four hundred and fifty miles and used a thousand gallons of fuel. Her crew had eaten only what little food they could find in the yachts. Toby West, her coxswain, told a reporter that the crew of _Big Shadow_ had been warmly grateful for their rescue. "It is hard in such circumstances," West said, "to just say that you are a lifeboat doing your job." West then went back to racing a sailing fishing boat in the annual Falmouth regatta.
**The crew of _Casse Tete V_ , whose rudder had broken, secures the tow line from the lifeboat _Sir Samuel Kelly_ , based in Courtmacsherry, Ireland. The tow to port lasted twelve hours.** _Ambrose Greenway_
**Places that feature in the search and rescue operation. Ports of refuge are underlined. "LB" Indicates lifeboat stations. Land radio stations using marine radio frequencies are indicated by "Radio." St. Mawgan and Culdrose are military air bases.**
**An exhausted sailor is helped out of a van at the Cuidrose sick bay after his rescue.** _Royal Navy_
Perhaps if the Arun had been stationed at a more western harbor, she might have been able to get to the area of worst trouble by dawn on Tuesday, but the more maneuverable, faster helicopters would still have been the major lifesaving arm of the massive, coordinated rescue effort, which eventually involved about four thousand people and cost £350,000 ($770,000)—almost 90 percent of it expended on aircraft and the remainder expended on surface vessels.
But while seventy-four people were saved by helicopters on August 14 (one-half the number saved by Culdrose-based helicopters in all of 1978), sixty-two survivors were directly recovered by various surface vessels. These craft included eight military vessels ranging in size from Royal Navy tugs to the frigates _Overijssel_ and _Broadsword_ , as well as six privately owned coasters and trawlers and three yachts competing in the race. Responding to flares or Maydays, or simply chancing upon life rafts, many of the commercial vessels rescued crews and either took the survivors ashore or left them with lifeboats and resumed their course. Several naval ships stayed on station or swept designated areas during the gale. At first, the Nimrod aircraft served as on-scene commander, but on Wednesday, HMS _Broadsword_ , a new Royal Navy frigate, out on sea trials, took over that role.
**A search and rescue crew Just off a Sea King helicopter on Tuesday. (Left to right) St. Fred Robertson, Lt. Charlie Thornton, Lt. Keith Thompson, and CPO Airman Dave Roles. These crews flew alternating missions, some staying in the air as long as four hours at a time.** _Royal Navy_
Communications were a major problem. At first, the Southern Rescue Co-ordination Centre at Plymouth did not have a race entry list. The list eventually provided by the Royal Ocean Racing Club showed 336 entrants, even though the club's officials believed that fewer than 310 boats had actually started the race. But which 310? Many boats that had officially withdrawn were seen sailing around the starting line; were they spectator boats or did they actually start? In any case, the start was so crowded that identification of actual racing boats was nearly impossible. To be safe, the searchers used the larger list, so they were actually looking for 33 boats that never started. Information about boats that were located was fed into a computer that had already been programmed to calculate the overall standings. During the three days of the search, the computer periodically spewed out long lists, which were distributed by automobile and helicopter to the various rescue centers at Land's End, Culdrose, and Plymouth.
Of course, these lists were only as accurate as the data fed to the computer, and much of that data was misleading. Many boats had similar names: _Golden Apple of the Sun_ and _Silver Apple of the Moon; Imp_ and _Impetuous;_ two boats named _Pepsi_ and two others named _Pinta._ Some boats had racing numbers that differed only in one number or were identical but with different nationality prefix letters. If no sail was hoisted, no number was visible. These and other problems did not make the rescuers' job any easier. Helicopter crews frequently wasted valuable time hovering over boats with indistinguishable names; airmen who dropped down to look for survivors returned to report that they had already inspected the boats. Yachtsmen's radio transmissions often were wrong or misleading, and they sometimes did not provide information about courses and speed that was necessary for lifeboats and other vessels trying to intercept them. Calculated positions were not always accurate, either. Until systematic sweeps were established on Tuesday afternoon, the search and rescue crews on and above the water were dependent upon these transmissions for locating boats in distress. So it was that in many instances luck played a more important role than any other factor in finding yachts that had requested help.
The most significant cause of the confusion was that so many boats were in distress. With 303 boats taking so much punishment in an area of about twenty thousand square miles, the huge rescue effort—said to be the largest in British waters since the evacuation of Dunkirk—was greatly taxed.
Unlike the nearly invulnerable helicopters, the ships had to endure the same seas that were damaging the yachts. HMS _Anglesey_ and HMS _Broadsword_ had been designed specifically for rough weather, but HNLMS _Overijssel_ , the Dutch frigate on permanent guardship duty for the race, was badly strained by the storm. After being refueled by a tug on Monday evening, she steamed north-west through the fleet as the storm swept in. Her assigned task was to stay within very high frequency radio range of the Admiral's Cup boats (about forty miles in good weather), in order to take their position reports, and to radio those positions back to the mainland. There was considerable press interest in the progress of the boats in the Admiral's Cup competition, for which the Fastnet was the last and most important race.
The _Overijssel_ began to roll badly as the wind and sea increased, until at one frightening moment before dawn, a wave swept over her deck and into her engine room, where the water short-circuited the generators. Rolling to within a very few degrees of the angle of heel at which she would lose all stability and capsize, she lay in the dark for twelve minutes while her engineers worked to start the generators. The return of power was a mixed blessing for those people who, like Peter Webster, the RORC's representative, stood by the radio, over which was transmitted a stream of grim news. At dawn, the Nimrod airplane flew over with its lights flashing. "Can you see a life raft?" somebody asked the Nimrod over the radio.
"We can see five life rafts," the Nimrod answered.
**The _Overijssel_ , a Dutch destroyer, here seen from a Royal Navy helicopter, was the Fastnet race guard ship and rescued sailors despite dangerous rolling.** _A. W. Besley_
**A large breaker bears down on the _Overijssel_ on Tuesday morning. At this time, force 10 to 12 conditions predominated, with winds gusting to over sixty knots and breaking seas that were occasionally thirty to forty feet in height. The _Overijssel_ was rolling her gunwales under, and at one stage her engines shut down when the generators were flooded.** _Peter Webster_
**A dismasted, abandoned yacht on the gray wastes of broken water. Photographs tend to diminish the apparent height of the sea, especially when taken high up (as from the _Overijssel_ 's bridge) but the breaking crests as far as the eye can see give a clue about the severity of the conditions.** _Peter Webster_
"It was more and more pathetic as time went by," Webster later remembered. "There were so many messages, and we could only deal with them one at a time."
Working off the scrambling nets slung over the side, the _Overijssel_ 's crew recovered fifteen survivors and two bodies. The survivors were from the abandoned yachts _Trophy, Callirhoe III_ , and _Polar Bear._ The last-named, like _Trophy_ , was capsized as she stood by another yacht in distress. A wave picked up the stern of the thirty-three-footer and threw it over the bow. _Polar Bear_ surfaced from the violent pitchpoling with her mast broken, her cabin roof ripped open by the remains of the spar, three feet of water in the cabin, and a crew member, Brigid Moreton, with a dislocated shoulder.
The injured woman's husband, _Polar Bear_ 's skipper, Major John Moreton of the Queen's Dragoon Guards, decided to abandon ship. He announced the decision over marine radio, and the crew fired off a flare and inflated and boarded the life raft. They drifted without major incident for an hour until the _Overijssel_ appeared and, rolling wildly, slid down to them. When her leeward side dipped, they stepped off the raft onto the scrambling nets and climbed a few feet up to the lower deck. Mrs. Moreton's arm was soon treated by a doctor picked up from another yacht.
The Dutch frigate stayed on station until the two bodies she had retrieved began to decompose badly. When she docked at Plymouth on Thursday morning, the quiet ceremony of removing the coffins from her deck gave authenticity to the disaster, about which landspeople had been hearing second- and third-hand for two days.
Among the more dreadful of those stories was that of a boat named _Bucks Fizz_ , which was one of thirty-two non-Fastnet race entrants to send out distress calls heard by the coastguards. The only boat in a race for multihulls that paralleled the Fastnet race (which is open only to monohulls), _Bucks Fizz_ was a thirty-eight-foot trimaran owned by Richard Pendred, who was vice-commodore of his sailing club near Rye. The light, fast three-hulled boat was seen by several Fastnet race crews during the first two days of racing, but she disappeared during the storm. At dawn on Wednesday, she was found floating upside down off the Irish coast, and two days later, an airman was dropped from a helicopter to inspect her. Nobody was aboard. Two bodies were found later and the remaining two crew members were presumed drowned. In her crew were a man and a woman who had met on the eve of the race's start in a pub in Cowes, immediately formed an attachment, and decided that it would be fun to sail together in _Bucks Fizz._
A few crews of yachts in the race took enormous risks in responding to flares and Mayday calls from other crews. Some rescuers were themselves put in distress and had to be rescued by the military. But three crews—two English and the other one French—were brave, skillful, and fortunate enough to reach their objectives and to save a total of nineteen people from three boats, two of which sank. By coincidence, the two English boats saved French crews and the French boat saved an English crew.
At fifty-five feet in length, _Dasher_ was one of the largest boats representing the military in the race. Almost every branch of the British armed forces owns yachts for leadership training or simply to allow officers to enjoy the rigors of ocean racing, and more than a dozen Fastnet race entrants represented the army, the navy, and the air force. The skipper of _Dasher_ , Lieutenant Bob Hall, Royal Navy, decided to run before the seas when the weather deteriorated. At 4:30 A.M., the helmsman notified Hall that he had heard a cry for help. He shone a bright light out into the seas and soon saw a dismasted yacht approximately thirty yards away. Under storm sails, _Dasher_ sailed to the yacht, which Hall identified as _Maligawa III_ , a French thirty-two-footer. She was dismasted, and the glass ports in her cabin sides were smashed and her running lights were off—indications that she had suffered considerable damage. Hall shouted to the Frenchmen that he intended to take them in tow. After two practice runs in which he made sure that each crew member knew his job, Hall steered _Dasher_ close alongside the French boat and a line was passed to her crew. He then headed south-east, sailing slowly under storm sails alone, with _Maligawa_ comfortably in tow. After forty minutes of uneventful sailing, a wave knocked _Maligawa_ over on her side, throwing two of her crew overboard and flooding her with a considerable amount of water. Their shipmates hauled the two men in by their safety harness tethers. Hall decided that they were not safe, so he told the French crew to abandon ship. As their vessel started to settle deeper into the water by the stern, the six French sailors inflated their life raft, which they boarded and cut loose. The tow line was also cut, and Hall steered _Dasher_ back toward the raft and, on his first try, came alongside and picked the men up without further incident. The Frenchmen were given hot drinks and dry clothes, and Lieutenant Hall assigned them to watches so they could help in sailing _Dasher_ , a Camper and Nicholson 55 sloop, back to port. _Maligawa III_ was later confirmed as having sunk.
**Helicopters and ships located and recovered several bodies of crews who had died In the water.** _A. W. Besley photographs_
At about the same time and in roughly the same part of the Western Approaches—about fifty miles southeast of Fastnet Rock—David Chatterton's _Moonstone_ (like _Windswept_ an Offshore One-Design 34) was hove-to in the traditional way, with her small storm jib backed, or trimmed to windward, and the tiller lashed to leeward. She had twice been knocked down to ninety degrees. At dawn, Chatterton saw a life raft lying approximately six hundred yards to leeward. He turned on the engine, headed toward the raft, and made three attempts to get alongside, once falling off a wave with great force. Fearing a recurrence and the possibility of the boat rolling down to and over the raft, he hove-to just to windward and let a lifebuoy down to the raft on the end of a line. When the men in the raft had secured the line, _Moonstone_ 's crew hauled them in. The six rescued men were from the French thirty-three-footer _Alvena_ , which, they said, had been rolled over, dismasted, and, with her windows smashed in, had probably sunk. They had been in the life raft for several hours. It had capsized twice; they had righted it each time. Now loaded down with thirteen men, _Moonstone_ sailed east and eventually put in at Falmouth. ( _Alvena_ was later recovered.)
_Griffin_ , a sister ship of _Moonstone_ and _Windswept_ , was owned by the Royal Ocean Racing Club and commanded by an experienced Australian offshore sailor named Neil Graham, who taught sailing at Britain's National Sailing Centre, in Cowes. In his crew were two of his fellow instructors and four students from the school. All were knowledgeable, well-trained sailors. After the wind increased to force 10, they stopped racing at about 1:30 Tuesday morning. Half an hour later, Stuart Quarrie, at the helm, saw a wave whose near-vertical face was twice the height of most of the other seas. The wave fell on _Griffin_ , rolling her over with such violence that the curved snap hook on the end of Quarrie's safety harness tether straightened entirely as he was thrown overboard. From five yards away, he could see _Griffin_ 's keel sticking straight into the air, and her high-intensity man-overboard light blinking from under the hull in the water. Two men were trapped under the cockpit, and they soon unhooked their harnesses and swam out. The four others were inside the cabin, where, standing on the roof, they watched the water pour in the hatch. The washboards had dropped out and the hatchcover had slid forward, leaving a ten-square-foot hole that was several feet under water. After about half a minute, a wave broke against the keel and its weight slowly levered the hull upright. When she came up, the cabin was almost full of water and the deck was only three inches above the sea's level. The crew immediately decided that there was only one thing to do. The life raft was inflated, a man dove into the cabin to retrieve flares and a knife, a flare was ignited, the seven men slid into the life raft, and the bow line was cut.
About forty-five minutes later, the life raft capsized, and as they pulled it back upright, the canopy broke off and the raft changed shape from circular to tubular. They fired off one flare and, when they saw a light, several more. The light approached and became a yacht sailing under a deeply reefed mainsail.
The yacht was _Loreleï_ , a thirty-six-footer owned by Alain Catherineau, from Bordeaux, one of the fifty-five French skippers who had entered the race. Built to an older and more conservative design than some of the most recent, light boats, _Lorelei_ was a Sparkman and Stephens-designed She 36 built in England, and a smaller sister of _Toscana. Lorelei_ was about forty miles south-east of the Rock at 2:00 A.M., going very fast under triple-reefed mainsail and number-4 jib through a group of boats that had stopped racing and were lying a-hull, when Catherineau spotted a flare about half a mile to leeward. He went forward with two of his crew to douse the jib, and under reefed mainsail alone they headed in the general direction of the flare, which was the first of several. Catherineau told the helmsman, Thierry Rannou, to steer about thirty degrees to one side of the flares, which appeared like a red halo over the waves, because he was not sure what type of craft had fired them off. Six hours earlier they had sailed near a fairly large French trawler; Catherineau thought that this might be the vessel in distress and, fearing collision, he did not want to get too close to her too quickly. _Lorelei_ was rolling considerably, and the safety harnesses frequently offered the only support for the crew on deck. Soon the crew could make out two small lights on top of a black shape about fifty yards away: it was a life raft. They steered for the life raft and passed about ten feet to windward of it at a speed of three knots. One of the Frenchmen threw a line, but it did not reach the raft. Two of the men in the raft tried to reach the yacht, fell overboard, and were hauled back into the raft by their shipmates.
Catherineau then took the tiller because, as he later wrote in a description of the rescue, "I felt that we could recover those men, and to do that I had to take the helm of my boat and get in touch with her. I knew her well and could ask the impossible of her." He surprised Rannou by starting the engine and ordering the mainsail dropped. Rannou said that the engine could never drive _Lorelei_ fast enough into the seas, and after the skipper made several futile attempts to get close to the raft, he seemed to be right. Realizing that he could not develop enough speed to steer _Lorelei_ upwind, Catherineau changed tactics and instead of heading into the waves he steered parallel to them, with the wind and his unusually powerful engine pushing the sloop at five knots. About thirty yards from the raft, when he was sure that he was on the correct heading, he put the engine into reverse and the boat slowed to a stop one yard to windward of it. Two of his crew threw lines to the raft, and the men started to come aboard. Some of the men went below, but the French skipper asked the strongest of them to remain on deck to help.
The last man out of the raft was extremely weak. All he had on his upper body was a T-shirt and his safety harness, and exposure obviously had sapped his strength. He was unable even to hold his head out of the water. The French sailors hauled him on deck inch by inch every time _Lorelei_ heeled (at one stage during the rescue, she was knocked down so far that the wind vane at the top of the mast was washed away). One difficulty was that, despite his hypothermia, the man refused to let go of the handholds in the life raft; his shipmates had insisted that he hold on to them, and now his hands were so tightly clenched around them that the rescuers had to pry his fingers away. They finally were able to drag him on deck and below and, to the surprise of many, he survived. It was 4:00 A.M. The Englishmen had been in the water for almost two hours, and the rescue had taken over an hour. One of the rescued sailors came on deck to thank Catherineau, shaking his hand vigorously. Exuberant at the success of their rescue mission, the French skipper and his second in command, Rannou, exchanged an emotional embrace. Not until Stuart Quarrie told the story of _Griffin_ 's swamping and certain foundering did Catherineau realize that he had rescued not fishermen but fellow yachtsmen.
With thirteen exhausted, wet, and in some cases seasick men on board, the French sloop was uncomfortable. The demoralized Englishmen were not the happiest of shipmates as _Lorelei_ lay a-hull for much of Tuesday. When the wind started to die, Catherineau put up sail, and on Wednesday morning—some thirty hours after the rescue—she was running under spinnaker before a warm light breeze under an almost cloudless sky. Catherineau spent an hour below cleaning up the damp cabin, and then two of his crew followed him down to prepare a meal not usually served aboard racing sailboats, even by the French: _Salade de Tomates Bordelaises, Poulet Gersois, Sauté de Veau aux Carottes_ , fruit, cheese, dessert, and a Médoc. Cheered by the spectacular lunch, the Englishmen finally relaxed. _Lorelei_ docked at Plymouth late Wednesday night. The Englishmen found beds ashore, and the next day they borrowed money, bought wine and cigarettes, and returned to the French sloop to celebrate their rescue with Alain Catherineau and his crew.
Thanks to the courage and exemplary seamanship of other yachtsmen, the nineteen men of _Maligawa III, Alvena_ , and _Griffin_ joined the many other sailors rescued by helicopters and ships on the list of those saved during the gale. Besides _Maligawa III_ and _Griffin_ , three other boats sank after being abandoned. A French trawler, the _Massingy_ , took seven men directly off the English yacht _Charioteer_ , which went down soon after. During a capsize, _Charioteers_ owner, Dr. J. Coldrey, had been hit on the head by the galley stove, which had come off its mountings, suffering a seven-inch cut in the scalp and a fractured cervical vertebra. _Hestrul II_ sank after her six men were taken off by a helicopter. And _Magic_ sank while under tow after her crew was rescued by a helicopter.
The remaining nineteen abandoned yachts were later recovered and safely towed to port by Royal Navy tugs, lifeboats, and commercial vessels. Only some of the latter claimed salvage. Claiming salvage on abandoned vessels is as legal and as encouraged now as it was a century ago, although the opportunities are fewer. Owners are happy to get their boats back, and insurance companies are always more than content to settle with the salvager for a fraction of the boat's worth rather than cover the loss of the vessel. "People think the fishermen are like vultures or scavengers," a spokesman for Lloyd's Shipping told a reporter, "but really it is an accepted procedure at sea. We would be surprised if the fishermen didn't go all out for the salvage money."
When a Cornish seaman named Bert Smidt heard that abandoned yachts were adrift in the Western Approaches, he and several crew members took his coaster, _Pirola_ , out into the last of the gale. They found the abandoned _Polar Bear_ , and a man went aboard the thirty-three-footer with a towline. Soon after, The _Pirola_ came across the empty thirty-four-foot _Allamanda_ , the procedure was repeated, and the tow headed toward Penzance. The two yachts probably were worth £60,000 ($132,000). Since he could expect the insurance companies to cover at least one-third of the cost of the boats in salvage payments, Smidt had good reason to think the trip well worth the time and risk.
But the risk increased rapidly as a second, though less violent, gale blew in on Thursday. With the two yachts tossing wildly and threatening to capsize at the end of of the towlines, Smidt ordered _Allamanda_ cut loose. The man aboard rode out the storm for over ten hours before the _Pirola_ returned to retrieve her as the gale died. Three days after heading out, the coaster pulled into Penzance with the two yachts. "It's an accepted part of making your living at sea," a relieved Smidt told a reporter from the _Western Morning News._ "It was dangerous, and at times I was worried about my men. I certainly didn't want to lose any of them, money or no money."
Meanwhile, a strange drama involving salvage was being played out in Milford Haven, Wales. _Camargue_ , which had been abandoned by her crew as they leapt, one by one, into the water to be retrieved by a helicopter, was taken in tow on Wednesday morning by a French trawler, the _Locarec._ That afternoon, the tow pulled into the estuary of Milford Haven only to be intercepted by an English yacht, _Animal_ , whose crew had relaxed after their own ordeal and now concluded that the trawler was engaged in a criminal act. The Englishmen cut the towline, put their own line aboard the yacht, and towed _Camargue_ up the estuary. The French claimed salvage; the local Receiver of Wrecks, a government official, reclaimed _Camargue;_ and the Department of Trade, which has jurisdiction over salvage, said that the act of piracy in reverse was unprecedented and that it did not know what course of action to follow. As was the case with most of the rescues conducted during the Fastnet gale, the story had a satisfactory ending: the French fishermen received some compensation for their time and efforts and the owner retrieved his boat.
## **8** **ARIADNE: The Unluckiest Boat in the World**
**_Ariadne_ racing earlier In the 1979 season.** _Eric North_
ONE BOAT, _Ariadne_ , benefited little from the huge, heroic rescue effort, but like everything else that affected the thirty-five-foot American yacht, what happened was nobody's fault. _Ariadne_ was owned by a sixty-one-year-old American named Frank Ferris (nicknamed "Hal") who lived in London. An enthusiastic sailor who had raced extensively in the United States, Ferris had sailed _Ariadne_ and an earlier boat out of West Mersea, in Essex, for several racing seasons. Not tied to his home waters, he had raced his boats in the Solent, on the North Sea, and in Scandinavia. Doing moderately well and carrying the distinctive "US" nationality prefix letters on her sails and a New York hailing port on her transom, _Ariadne_ was known in British sailing circles as "that Yank boat from Mersea." She had been built of laminated plywood in Scotland and had been designed by an American named Dick Carter, whose greatest successes had been in Britain. By the standards of the late 1970s, _Ariadne_ was a beautiful boat, with traditional varnished topsides on which her name was written in large white script letters. In the fleets of chalky-white fiberglass and brightly colored aluminum boats, she was a stunning example of classic appearance melded into modern shapes and materials.
Hal Ferris was serious about his racing; that was obvious to any sailor who studied _Ariadne_ , even in her near-wrecked state after the Fastnet race as she lay against a dirty wharf in Penzance. Ferris had given her the most secure hatches to keep the ocean out, the best winches, blocks, and hydraulic equipment with which to trim and shape sails, and the most sophisticated instruments with which to measure boat performance and wind speed and direction. Much of that gear had been installed during the previous winter by Ferris and his crew, which consisted of friends and business associates, most of whom were experienced sailors.
All were Englishmen except for Ferris and Robert Robie, a sixty-three-year-old American oil company executive. Bob Robie had learned to sail at Vineyard Haven, Massachusetts, on the island of Martha's Vineyard, and he came from a sailing family. His brother, Ted, was a member of the Vineyard Haven Yacht Club crew that won the North American Junior Sailing Championship in 1933 and 1934, and another brother, Bud, carried on the tradition by serving in the winning crews in 1935 and 1936. (By coincidence, the skipper of the second-place crew in 1935 was my father. By further coincidence, I crewed for Bob Robie's former sailing instructor, Bill Cox, in the winning boat in the 1974 North American Match-Racing Championship.) Bud Robie was killed in World War II, and Ted Robie moved inland, but Bob Robie never lost his enthusiasm for sailing. He owned or chartered cruising boats in Cuba, the Canary Islands, and wherever else he could during a long, peripatetic career in the oil industry. When the Iranians nationalized their oil fields after the 1979 revolution, Robie lost his job, but he was satisfied that he now had more time available to help his friend Hal Ferris prepare _Ariadne_ for the 1979 racing schedule, the high point of which would be the Fastnet race. He was retiring soon anyway, and planned to move with his wife of thirty-six years to the resort island of Hilton Head, South Carolina, on the southeast coast of the United States, where he hoped to start a sailing school. A friend of Robie's, Kingman Brewster, the United States ambassador to Great Britain and a former president of Yale University, had been asked to sail in _Ariadne_ , but was unable to join Ferris's crew due to an unexpected meeting in Washington.
The youngest crew member invited aboard _Ariadne_ was nineteen-year-old Matthew Hunt, a gentle, mature young man who had sailed dinghies at West Mersea. The son of a doctor and a nurse, and the brother of another nurse, Matthew was himself applying to medical school. Flattered by Ferris's invitation and excited by the prospect of sailing in a Fastnet race, he also had the time available to sail in _Ariadne_ throughout most of her ambitious racing schedule.
The Royal Ocean Racing Club exists primarily to run ocean races, the most important of which and the cause of the club's founding is the Fastnet. A boat that sails in all the club's races and in other races sponsored by English and French yacht clubs will be busy almost every weekend from May through September. In a Fastnet race year, a well-organized skipper will use the early-season races to test his boat and crew for the Fastnet. That is what Hal Ferris did in 1979. _Ariadne_ competed in the North Sea, Cowes-Dinard, and Channel races, as well as in a week of competition among the Channel Islands that was sponsored by a French organization. Most of _Ariadne_ 's Fastnet crew were aboard for one or more of the early races, and Matthew Hunt sailed in many. But the entire crew of six had never been together before they assembled for the Fastnet start on August 11. In common they held a liking for the rigors of ocean racing, and affection for Hal Ferris, who was a good skipper in a sport that is, unfortunately, full of martinets. Cheerful and willing to delegate responsibility and listen to advice, he was decisive in situations that called for strong leadership. All in all, Ferris was the captain of a happy vessel. Ferris and Robie, the two Americans, were the oldest members of the crew. Two had come long distances to race. Twenty-three-year-old Rob Gilders, who had sailed in Ferris's boats for seven years, flew to England from the island of St. Martin's, in the Caribbean, where he was a sailmaker, and David Crisp arrived from Vienna, Austria. The sixth crew member was forty-three-year-old Bill Le Fevre. Despite considerable sailing experience, most of them had not sailed in a Fastnet race. In the case of Bob Robie, sailing a Fastnet was a goal that, as he approached old age and was preparing to move back to the United States, he might never again be able to attain.
The six men were divided into two two-man watches, with the skipper and the navigator, David Crisp, serving as "floaters" to help out on deck when necessary. During the easy first two days of the race, the crew ate well, rested, and kept a happy bantering as the thirty-five-foot sloop beat into the light wind, down the Devon and Cornish coasts. Few boats were in sight until the wind died to a flat calm Monday morning, when the crew was satisfied to see many larger competitors drifting nearby.
When the wind came up around noon on Monday, they set the reaching jib and were able to sail the course for Fastnet Rock at _Ariadne_ 's maximum speed. The air chilled and water started to come on deck, so the crew bundled up in their foul-weather gear and safety harnesses. Bob Robie, in fact, always wore his safety harness under his foul-weather jacket, anticipating that he would have to hook onto the boat any time that the sea was rough enough to throw spray on deck.
With the wind directly over the beam pushing _Ariadne_ over, around, and sometimes under the long swells rolling in from the Atlantic Ocean, they had a fast, exciting ride Monday afternoon and evening. Bill LeFevre suffered from some seasickness, but not, his shipmates were happy to see, as badly as he had in the Channel race, a week before the Fastnet start. Ferris had given LeFevre a new batch of pills that appeared to be doing their job well.
At around 10:00 P.M., the wind increased dramatically, and the crew tied a reef in the mainsail and dropped the reaching jib, putting up in its place the relatively small number-3 jib. But even that was too much, and they soon decreased the area of the number 3 by reefing the sail and started to work reefing the mainsail further. But the mainsail split. Flogging madly in two parts in the by now force 8 wind, the main was useless, and all hands were called on deck to claw the sail down. This was discouraging. The boat required the mainsail to keep racing in those conditions, which, though rough and difficult, were not bad enough to cause real concern. It was too rough, however, for Rob Gilders, the sailmaker, to start stitching the sail back together.
They carried on under the reefed number-3 jib for an hour, the conditions deteriorating rapidly until _Ariadne_ could not be held on her course to Fastnet Rock. Just after midnight, David Crisp heard the BBC shipping bulletin. He stuck his head through the companionway and said, "Bad news. Force 8 and 9, locally force 10." The pointer was frequently touching sixty on _Ariadne_ 's anemometer.
Almost immediately Hal Ferris said, "Let's pack it in." There was no objection. _Ariadne_ was run off directly before the wind, the number-3 was doused and the number-4 jib was set in its place. But as the wind continued to increase, with the anemometer now registering a steady sixty—its dial could read no higher—Matthew Hunt and David Crisp soon hoisted the tiny storm jib. This was a long, exhausting sail change. They pulled down the number-4 jib, dragged it aft, and shoved it down the main hatch. Opening the forward hatch would have allowed too much water below. While the storm jib was being rigged, _Ariadne_ , under bare poles, moved through the waves more comfortably. But Hal Ferris feared that they were closing too quickly on the Irish coast and, remembering the seamen's rule that a vessel is always safer offshore than near land, he wanted the storm jib up so he could steer away from shore. When daylight came in five or six hours, they could decide which harbor to head for. Perhaps it would be Crosshaven, which Matthew Hunt knew well. His father had been born there and Matthew visited Crosshaven frequently.
The greatest danger they faced was not from the wind or the waves but rather from the other boats around them. Running off before the wind with not much control over _Ariadne_ 's heading, they came across other yachts under even less control. The red and green running lights would appear and disappear behind waves with maddening irregularity, and shouting accomplished nothing in the screech of the gale and the roar of the waves. There were several close calls.
For several hours, Hal Ferris's tactic of running before it was successful. At 2:00 A.M., the storm jib ripped right down its luff. Matthew Hunt, resting below (the boat's motion was comfortable enough to permit sleep), was awakened by the clatter of the torn sail and rushed on deck to haul it down. To slow _Ariadne_ , they tied the sail to lines and dragged it over the stern. Hunt returned below to doze off in his foul-weather gear.
Sometime later, he awoke in a chaos of flying objects, his world turned upside down. _Ariadne_ had been caught under the curl of a rogue wave and rolled over. On deck, Rob Gilders, hit by the wave just as he stood to light a cigarette, was thrown overboard to the limit of the tether of his safety harness and David Crisp, at the tiller, was trapped under the boat. Crisp was just at the end of the long breath he had taken when _Ariadne_ righted herself. Gilders pulled himself aboard, and the remainder of the crew, below, tried to take stock of the situation.
The only man injured was LeFevre, but that was serious. A head wound left him bleeding and badly stunned on the cabin sole. Hunt, the doctor's son, thought that the wound perhaps was fatal. They all immediately saw they were in trouble. Water was up to their waists. It had come in through the ventilators and the large opening left by the smashed washboards.
Hunt and Gilders quickly began to clean out the cabin, throwing soggy sleeping bags, clothes, and other items into the cockpit for the others to heave overboard. As the badly injured LeFevre, already weakened by seasickness, searched for flares and life jackets that had been thrown out of their lockers by the force of the capsize, Hunt and Gilders bailed out the cabin with a bucket and a sauce pan. When the water level dropped to below the pump handle, they pumped, too. In the cockpit, Robie and Ferris tried to clean up the rigging and to cheer up the others. The mast had broken in two places, and the middle section had gone overboard leaving relatively little mess on deck.
After an hour or so, at 5:30 A.M., the sky began to lighten, and with the water level gradually dropping in the cabin, spirits improved. The life jackets and flares were found in remote corners of the cabin and were issued to all hands. Somebody laughed and said that all Englishmen should be thankful for gales since a storm off the Irish coast had defeated the Spanish Armada in 1588.
Suddenly, _Ariadne_ was rolled over again through a quick 360-degree spin. David Crisp and Bob Robie, sitting in the cockpit, were flipped over the lifelines into the sea. Crisp was towed along by the tether of his safety harness; when _Ariadne_ righted herself, he was dragged aboard by his crewmates. But Bob Robie, the man who would not go on deck without wearing his harness, was lost. Perhaps his tether broke, or the object to which he had been secured pulled out, but whatever the cause his previously trustworthy safety system failed. When _Ariadne_ righted herself, those on deck frantically searched for him. Robie soon appeared fifty yards away on the crest of a wave. He waved, they waved back, he dropped into the trough, and he was never seen again.
Dazed by a blow to his head, Matthew Hunt stumbled on deck. He came to alertness with somebody shouting into his face, "This is the Fastnet race! _This is the Fastnet race!!_ "
Dejected and exhausted, Hal Ferris sat in the cockpit, his endurance limited by his age and the effects of an automobile accident that had occurred several years earlier. In the worst storm of his long sailing career, as he described it to his crew, his boat twice had been rolled over. The first time, she had lost her rig had been half filled with water. The second time, he had lost a friend and shipmate.
By 6:00, in the increasing light, they could see huge, frothing seas like those that had shattered _Ariadne_ in the darkness of the night. The mast and rigging lay in pieces on deck and, below, the cabin was in shambles and, despite their bailing, had water up to the settee berths. One crew member was badly injured and the other four were shivering and enervated. It was a time to wonder how much more they, he, and _Ariadne_ could take of this storm.
Hal Ferris made his decision. He told the crew that it was time to abandon ship. Nobody disagreed.
The life raft was pulled out from under the mainsheet traveler in the cockpit and the inflation line was pulled. The rubber raft inflated perfectly and was dropped over the side. The five men gingerly climbed in, the bow line was cut, and the raft and the hulk that was once the beautiful _Ariadne_ drifted away from each other.
**_Ariadne_ adrift after her abandonment.** _A. W. Besley_
Morale improved immediately. The raft's motion was much more comfortable than _Ariadne_ 's, and the partial shelter provided by the tentlike canopy was a comfort after the exposed cockpit. From time to time, a wave splashed water into the raft and the crew bailed it and Bill LeFevre's blood out with a small bucket they had found in an emergency kit, which also held flares and food. LeFevre was obviously in pain, and the others did what they could to comfort him with forecasts of rescue.
About two hours after abandoning _Ariadne_ , Rob Gilders was bailing out the raft when, with his head outside the canopy, he saw a small freighter a few hundred yards away. "I see a coaster," he shouted to the men inside the canopy. He was handed a red flare, which he lit. The German coaster, named _Nanna_ , headed in the direction of the raft.
Just then, the life raft capsized. Whether because it was hit by an especially bad wave or because the men in their excitement suddenly shifted position, the raft turned upside down. Gilders, the only man who was not hooked to the raft by his safety harness, was thrown several feet away but he swam back and climbed onto the bottom of the raft. David Crisp ended up under the raft, his head safely in the air bubble. The three others were hooked to the raft, pulled themselves back, and held on to the handholds lashed to the inflated rings.
All five men stayed where they were to conserve their strength for the difficult job ahead: a lunge to _Nanna_ 's ladder and a long climb up to safety.
The captain of the coaster skillfully brought the _Nanna_ right alongside the raft, moving ahead slowly to maintain steerage way. Rob Gilders leapt onto the ladder from the bottom of the overturned raft, just catching the rungs. He laboriously pulled himself up the heaving, rolling topsides of the coaster and into the arms of her crew.
Ferris was the next to try to escape from the sea. He unhooked his safety harness from the life raft and lunged, half swimming, for the bottom rungs of the ladder, but he failed. Either missing the rungs or smashed by the rolling coaster, or both, Hal Ferris was swept away. His crew last saw him fifty yards away.
The coaster swept by and swung around in a great arc to make another pass at the raft. Matthew Hunt pulled himself up on the bottom, but when the _Nanna_ came by, she rolled away from the raft and her ladder was high over his head. All he could do was fend off the coasters topsides and bottom with his feet, to keep the raft from being pulled into her propellers.
As the coaster swung around for her third rescue attempt, Hunt pulled Bill LeFevre out of the water and onto the bottom. LeFevre seemed alert, and he helped Hunt haul the greatly weakened David Crisp, who had come out from under the raft, up on the rubber platform. Hunt told them both to hook their safety harnesses to a strap glued to the bottom of the raft so that they would not be swept away if they were washed off.
Lying on his side, watching the _Nanna_ slowly curve to him, young Matthew Hunt knew this was his last chance for survival. He felt numb all over, and the desire to lay back and go to sleep was almost overpowering. He saw the coaster turn toward him, first her plunging bow, and then her rolling topsides, and then the ladder, at the top of which, on deck, stood men beckoning and yelling, "Jump! _Jump_! This is the last chance! _You must jump!_ "
Hunt unhooked his safety harness from the strap and turned to Crisp and LeFevre and told them to be sure to do the same before they left the raft. As the coasters ladder slipped by, Hunt jumped for a high rung while Crisp leapt for a lower rung.
Hunt slowly crawled up the ladder and into the hands of _Nanna_ 's crew. Finally secure, he looked down and, to his horror, saw that David Crisp, halfway up the ladder, was still attached to the life raft by the tether of his safety harness. The life raft jerked away from the ship, the tether tightened and pulled Crisp down into the water, and he, Bill LeFevre, and the raft were swept under the ship's stern.
For the first time since the storm hit _Ariadne_ , Matthew Hunt felt helpless. Suddenly cold after hours of numbness, he staggered below with Rob Gilders, wrapped in blankets provided by the _Nanna_ 's crew. They were given hot drinks and food, and a crewman vacated his cabin for them. They slept for hours. When they were awakened late Tuesday night, the 180foot German coaster was steaming up the English Channel. The gale had died. The _Nanna_ 's international crew of Africans and Europeans, who communicated in Pidgin English, told them that they would be dropped off on a lifeboat that would take them to the mainland. Hunt and Gilders, the only survivors of _Ariadne_ , were picked up by the Lizard lifeboat at 1:00 A.M. on Wednesday, a bit more then twenty-four hours after Hal Ferris had decided to abandon the race. They were taken ashore, given money, and put on trains for home.
## **9** **The Finishers: Retreat and Refuge**
**Waves breaking near _Casse Tete V_ on Tuesday morning.** _Ambrose Greenway_
AT EIGHT TUESDAY MORNING, in _Toscana_ , Eric Swen son's watch had finished breakfast and were pulling off layers of wet clothing in eager anticipation of a long sleep, when they heard a news program broadcast over the Irish radio service. Three men were dead in the Fastnet race, the announcer said, and many more were missing. Swenson switched on the marine radio to an emergency frequency in time to hear a flat, matter-of-fact voice say, "We have taken two on board. Two others went under my stern."
John Coote, the navigator, slid open the hatch, stuck his head out, and told my watch, "Men are dying out here."
Standing behind the steering wheel in our force 10 world, I could make no sense of this report. So engaged were we in our own struggles with sea and wind that even believing that other boats were also out in the gale was difficult. Anyway, I told myself, this storm was not so bad. I measured it against the four gales I had previously experienced: one in the Gulf of Tehuantepec, off Mexico, in February 1964; another near Bermuda later that same year; a storm during the 1972 Bermuda Race; and the force 9 blow during the Cowes Week race five days earlier. No doubt about it, this was the worst one, but if we were surviving others should survive. There must have been a freak accident.
The barometer had been rising since 4:30, our logbook recorded, at a rate of almost 3 millibars (0.1 of an inch) an hour, just as rapid as the precipitous drop between 5:00 P.M. Monday and 3:00 A.M. Tuesday. The storm center had passed, yet the wind was still in the mid-fifties as _Toscana_ ran down mountainous seas, frothing, boiling, snapping at her stern. The cold wind blew spray off the breakers and our wake and onto my back, where the droplets stung like BBs through the layers of damp clothes. With most of the waves from astern and lengthening out, steering was easier than it had been the previous night, and in daylight the helmsman could now see them and look for smooth paths to run along. We took turns steering, changing every hour or so, and we were warmed and thrilled by our mad surges down the Matterhorns, over the Rockies, and around the Everests. The bow wave thundered.
The sky cleared in midmorning. The blue-green water and white breakers reflected the sun's rays with the blinding dazzle of a snow-covered mountaintop. At about eleven, a gigantic rainbow appeared astern, arching across the horizon. Never before had I seen a full rainbow—they always seem to begin or end somewhere out of sight—and I took this one, straddling our wake like the Colossus of Rhodes, to be a protective sign.
By then the radio had reported half a dozen deaths and several sinkings, and we saw with our own eyes that other boats were vulnerable. _Marionette, Silver Apple of the Moon_ , and several yachts whose hulls were hidden by waves lay under bare poles on either side of our heading as we swept along at ten knots. Some seemed to be abandoned; others had one or two men in the cockpit and were riding it out. We tried to raise them on the radio, but there was no answer. Soon after, we discovered that the antenna of our very high frequency radio (the only kind that most British yachts carry) had been blown off the mast. Eric reported their and our positions to the Land's End Coastguard station over the medium frequency radio that _Toscana_ carried to meet the requirements of American ocean races.
Because the wind seemed to lighten a bit—and also because we were getting used to it after some twelve hours of force 11 to 12 gusts—we gradually increased sail area by shaking out reefs. John Ruch and I tried to set the number-4 jib, but it ripped where it fed into the slot on the headstay and we carried on under forestaysail. By 4:00 P.M. the wind clearly was easing as the gale swept away from us, and we were left with that halfempty feeling that comes at the end of any great experience, good or bad. At 7:00 P.M., when my watch came on deck after a restful six hours below, _Toscana_ was averaging about eight knots in a force 7 wind. Astern were a handful of unidentifiable boats, and to leeward was Edward Heath's _Morning Cloud_ , unmistakable with her sail numbers clear to the naked eye. While we sailed a bit above the course to keep the forestaysail full, she ran dead before the wind with her jib hanging uselessly from the headstay. Her crew, we decided, was not trying very hard; perhaps a report we had heard about a damaged rudder was true and they were nursing her home at low speed.
With about thirty-five knots of wind and easy steering, we began to discuss the possibility of setting the spinnaker. Eric agreed, and with the entire crew on deck we set a heavyweight large spinnaker without problem. When the boats astern saw that it could be done, they too hauled up their spinnakers. Each sail was of a distinctive color. The boat three miles astern, with a blue and gold spinnaker, was _Alliance_ , a fifty-four-footer sailed by midshipmen and officers from the United States Naval Academy.
We were surprised that the crew of _Morning Cloud_ made no motion toward setting more sail. Perhaps she was being steered with emergency equipment and was heading inside the Scillies for Penzance, Falmouth, or some other close port. With our speed increased by a knot or so by the spinnaker, we gradually pulled away from her. Just at sunset, we spotted the white light revolving around the top of the Bishop's Rock lighthouse about ten miles off our port bow, and a bit later we jibed onto port tack to cut around the Isles of Scilly.
The wind continued to fade, but the seas remained high for hours and rolled the by now slow-moving _Toscana_ uncomfortably so that we could not sail dead downwind without having the force 3 breeze shaken out of the sails. After my watch came on for the dawn watch at 3:00 A.M. Wednesday, we exerted ourselves for a couple of hours trying to find the heading for the greatest speed. When we and _Toscana_ finally settled down, we slipped east at six knots on an easy beam reach, and waited for the dawn.
It was an estuary rather than ocean dawn—warm air breathing lightly over almost flat water, land in sight to leeward, the unresisting wheel held with one hand while the other raised a coffee mug to the helmsman's lips. John Ruch awakened John Coote, who decided that he would give Francie the morning off and make breakfast. Sitting quietly in the cockpit and on deck, we smelled hash and eggs through the open hatches and squinted in the unfamiliar sunlight at the competitors nearby, trying to identify them and guess how we were doing. At 6:15, Susan awakened Eric's watch. They came on deck forty-five minutes later, spouting compliments for Coote's breakfast and looking around our horizon with the cheery curiosity of the well rested and fed. My watch put on a little show for them by changing from the heavy to the light spinnaker—normally a five-man job—with only our four people. At one stage during the operation, I secured one line with my teeth and held two other lines and the steering wheel in my hands. The performance earned laughter and applause, although (of course) some spoilsport had to describe how he had once changed spinnakers with only three people. Then Eric slipped in beside me at the wheel and I told John, Susan, and Nick that we could go below and sample Coote's culinary delights and kid him about his angel food birthday cake, which he had sat on during the gale. Over breakfast, Nick talked about the pleasures of golf, and I said that I didn't play golf but had always wanted to learn dry-fly fishing. We ate the eggs and hash, and complimented Coote, and went to our bunks. I threw my clothes in a soggy heap, toweled myself off, and pulled on my nightshirt. The forward toilet was broken and the after one was leaking, so I went on deck to relieve myself. Eric took one look at me in my Scotch-plaid nightshirt and said, "What is this apparition? Something from the _Arabian Nights_?" Everybody laughed, and I responded, "Somebody's got to add a little culture around here." They all laughed again, and leaving them on the level deck in the warm sun, I went below, crawled into my bunk, and went right to sleep.
All in all, it was the best kind of ocean-racing morning: fine weather, comfortable sailing, excellent food, good shipmates; and not once did anybody mention what we had all known since Tuesday evening: that fifteen people had died, twenty-four boats had been abandoned, and hundreds of crews were unaccounted for somewhere behind us in the Western Approaches. It was our dirty little secret, and by silent agreement we were not going to discuss it until we reached shore.
At 3:24 that warm afternoon, when _Toscana_ finished at Plymouth's breakwater after a lovely day's sail, it was almost like the end of any other race. We quietly coiled the sheets and folded the sails as Eric switched on the engine and steered _Toscana_ into the end of a long raft-up of boats tied to each other, side to side. We pulled in next to a Dutch yacht, and exchanged the usual pleasantries as they took our lines: "When did you finish? How did you do? Where were you when . . . ?" Eric pulled a bottle of rum out of the liquor locker, and Francie, in her bikini, brought mugs and glasses into the cockpit, and everybody but myself settled down to the postrace drink. "Eric," I said, "I think I should get ashore." He said, "All right. See you later." I clambered over the lifelines to the Dutch boat and across the decks of the other ten boats to a slippery ladder that ran up the bulkhead.
When I reached the wharf, all semblance between this and any other race immediately ended. Solitary women stood nervously shifting their weight from one foot to the other, looking out toward the Channel. Small groups of people huddled in somber conferences. Men holding notebooks or television cameras stopped other men in sailing clothes and asked questions. A tall man with a notebook asked me if I had been in the race. I said that I had. He opened the notebook and identified himself as a reporter from the _Los Angeles Times;_ could he ask me some questions? I told him that I was on my way to the press room to telephone a report to the _New York Times_ , but I was sure they would not mind if I talked to him. He asked me to describe the winds and seas, and I did. Did we have any trouble? None. What did I know about the deaths? Nothing.
And I didn't, and for a long while neither did anybody else, but when I found the press room in the Duke of Cornwall Hotel and read some of the newspapers that were scattered about, I could see that the American reporter's approach to the race was especially cautious. Bitterly competing for circulation, the London-based, English national newspapers were out in force. Among the headlines were: "Fastnet Race of Death: 30 lives feared lost . . . 21 boats missing as a near hurricane hits yachtsmen"; "9 Die in Yacht Race Havoc: Boats sunk and abandoned as 80 mph gale lashes Western Approaches"; "The Suicide Armada"; "Victim of the Cruel Sea"; "Sinking of the Armada"; and "Cauldron of Death." For the first two days, many reporters covered the storm and its havoc as they would have approached any mishap in some remote or vaguely understood place—a mine disaster, say, or an accident in a nuclear power plant. They hovered around the gateway, buttonholing survivors and experts in an attempt to find out what had happened. Survivors at Culdrose, in Ireland, or in Milford Haven told grim stories that made gripping reading. Yet under pressure to explain how such a calamity could possibly happen, the reporters—few of whom understood weather or boats—were necessarily dependent upon yachtsmen who had not sailed in the race and whose opinions may not have had much to do with reality.
One of these sources was John Maltby, sales director of the Beaufort Air Sea Equipment Company, a manufacturer of life rafts (including ours in _Toscana_ ). He was quoted in the August 16 _Guardian_ as saying, "No yachtsman in his right mind should go out in that sort of weather, because no survival equipment can make up for human exhaustion." Maltby went on to chide the Royal Ocean Racing Club for not calling off the race when a force 7 gale was forecast. People could not take that kind of punishment. "From the empty rafts being brought in," he said, referring to life rafts, "there would seem to be backing for my belief that the equipment was stronger than the human beings." Maltby could not possibly have known at the time he gave this interview that his company had made a life raft that had broken up—the raft under _Trophy_ 's crew, two of whom were swept away to their deaths and one of whom died of exposure.
A broader perspective was offered by Des Sleightholme, the editor of the British yachting magazine _Yachting Monthly_ , who told a _Guardian_ reporter that this was an exceptional storm that hit at the wrong time: "Let's face it. If there was not a race going through that area at that time, most people would never have known the storm was taking place." Although some sailors appeared to agree with Sleightholme—Jim Hardy, a crew member on the Australian Admiral's Cup team, quoted Lord Byron: "Man marks the earth with ruin; his control stops at the shore"—a few survivors came ashore with strong opinions that somebody was at fault. The consensus seemed to be that modern racing boats were unseaworthy or dangerous and that competition drove many Fastnet sailors to take unnecessary risks. Tom McLoughlin, a young sailor from California who had been a helmsman in the French boat _Accanito_ , was quoted in the _Daily Mail_ and _Daily Mirror_ on August 16: "We were warned three days ago that there would be force 8 gales, and yet many of us deluded ourselves into thinking that the weather was going to improve. Some continued racing after it became clear that it was pointless to do so. Many small boats put to sea and sailed into conditions they knew to be dangerous. The people I respect are the ones who quit the race. The competitive urge can be a very unbalancing thing, and we are all guilty in a way of not respecting the sea enough."
This self-rebuke— _Accanito_ lost her rudder and was sailed and towed into Crosshaven—was temperate compared with the criticisms that some survivors hurled at other Fastnet crews and their boats, presumably the ones that suffered fatalities. Said one survivor, "Some of the Fastnet participants put to sea in clothes baskets. The rigging, steering, and strength of their boats were not up to the job." Another opinion: "One of the reasons for such loss of life and damaged boats is that a certain amount of safety is being sacrificed in the search for speed. There is a tremendous quest for more and more speed and so boats are being built much lighter. But materials are being used that have not been proved in the twisting contortions of a yacht in an ocean storm." (The unproven material referred to is carbon fiber, a strong lightweight substance that had been used in the construction of rudders; almost half of the fourteen broken rudders in the race were made of this material. Little other major damage had been reported.)
"Too Much Emphasis on Speed" was the headline over John Ahern's yachting column in the August 19 _Boston Sunday Globe._ Ahern quoted Ted Hood, an American yacht designer and sailmaker who did not sail in the Fastnet race: "More and more I've noticed that racing yachts are being designed for speed rather than strength, and the game has been building toward a disaster such as the Fastnet for quite a while." Hood also told Ahern that ocean-racing crews are not properly prepared for emergencies. "He is correct," Ahern amened.
In the same column, Ted Turner was given space to expound on the same theme. His _Tenacious_ stood up all right, he said. "It's those dishonest little things, skinned-out hulls to save weight, that can't take it. There's got to be some legislation against them. And there has to be something done about the people who go to sea and haven't had the experience. Designers have to change the emphasis from speed to safety. This tragedy will bring about changes. But this situation should never have been allowed to exist."
Turner had been speaking to reporters on that theme almost from the moment _Tenacious_ docked at Plymouth after finishing the race at 10:30 Tuesday night. Colorful, articulate, and opinionated, he was a celebrity among both sailors and the general public and always made good copy. Turner had been a champion ocean-racing sailor since he entered the sport in the mid1960s and was the winning helmsman in the 1977 America's Cup. At the age of forty-one, he had amassed a small fortune and a large following through his ownership of a successful television station, whose programs were beamed across the United States by satellite, and of two professional athletic teams in his home city of Atlanta, Georgia. A self-proclaimed defender of traditional values and gentlemanly virtues, Turner had in 1977 openly questioned the honesty of Lowell North, a sailmaker and an opposing skipper in the America's Cup eliminations, after North had been forced by his own boat's managers to refuse personally to make sails for Turner's boat, _Courageous._ Speaking as skipper of his own highly successful, seven-year-old _Tenacious_ , Turner had often criticized competitors who, he thought, cut corners solely to win races.
For a while after he finished, Turner's main concern was whether or not _Tenacious_ had won the Fastnet Race on corrected time. When a much smaller boat was mistakenly listed as winning, he prepared to fly back to the United States. Turner cheered up and decided to stay in Plymouth after the Royal Ocean Racing Club discovered the error. Later, when a _New York Times_ reporter asked him what had been his worst moment in the race, Turner responded, "When I was told that some little boat was the winner. I had four hours of bitter disappointment before it was straightened out. It was a big sea all right," he went on, "but we pressed on and never thought about stopping racing. One or two were seasick, but at the height of the storm we had a steak dinner."
Turner told United Press International, "Like any experience, whenever you come through it you feel better. We're not talking about the other people who died, but to be able to face it all and come through it is exhilarating. Sailing in rough weather is what the sport is all about."
On Friday, Turner was interviewed via satellite on the American Broadcasting Company television show _Good Morning, America._ The host, David Hartmann, asked him if he had been afraid during the race.
"We made it okay," Turner responded.
Hartmann repeated the question.
"I guess I'm more afraid of being afraid than actually being afraid," Turner answered vaguely. "But I was concerned. I wasn't too concerned about our survival, because they said that the worst it would be is force 10, and the waves are the biggest problem. You never know exactly what shape they're going to take. We got hit by quite a few that knocked our boat literally flat."
Despite his admission that _Tenacious_ had not always been under complete control, Turner continued to sound the theme that the gale had not threatened him. "You always feel bad when your fellow yachtsmen drown. But you never can really be completely prepared for what nature has in store. We knew it was coming. We listened to weather forecasts. But four people died on land, and how can you prepare for something like that—trees falling and walls falling?"
**Ted Turner.** _Louis Kruk_
"It was rough, r-u-f-f," he said in another interview. "It wasn't a pleasure cruise, but we had a good crew and a good, big boat. I always wanted a big boat. From what I can tell, it seems the smaller boats were the ones that got into trouble here."
In an article that he signed in the October issue of _Motor Boating & Sailing_, an American yachting magazine, Turner wrote, "I remember saying to the crew that twenty men would die that night. Regretfully, those turned out to be prophetic words." Despite being knocked flat six or seven times, he wrote, his primary fear was that of running down smaller boats in the night. "If we hit one of those lightly constructed fiberglass boats, _Tenacious_ would crush it, smash it in two and everybody aboard would be killed. Of all the things that happened that night, that was my greatest fear, and that is the only thing that had me scared—that, and the fear that something aboard _Tenacious_ might break, causing us to lose the race."
Turner concluded the article with a bit of self-congratulation: "You're supposed to have a strong vessel with crew and equipment for any condition. I feel a little like Noah. I knew that the flood was coming, and I had a boat ready that would get me through it.
"It was a storm precisely like this one that saved England from the Spanish Armada. Whenever you sail in the English Channel, you've got to be prepared for the return of that storm."
At any other time, Ted Turner's glorying in his boat, his first-place trophy, and himself might have been interpreted as a successful athlete's boyish pride, but in the context of the Fastnet race tragedies it was widely viewed as insensitive and callous. There is, however, another perspective, as Pete Axthelm, the sports columnist for the American magazine _Newsweek_ , pointed out. Axthelm was shocked at first when he read the following quote by Turner: "This is the greatest sailing accomplishment in a long time. We weren't really concerned with the conditions, we were concerned with winning." But, on reflection, Axthelm decided that he was more confused than appalled by Turners apparent insensitivity to the feelings of relatives and friends of yachtsmen lost in the race. Turner's attitude, he wrote in his column of August 27, is typical of modern-day sports, in which reality has begun to intrude on fantasy and escape. The intense pressure to win, the language of violence, the superhero stars, the modern athlete's "celebrating the good times with almost savage intensity" are, Axthelm wrote, changing the nature of our games and our understanding of them. Nothing brings this out so well as an unexpected tragedy that reminds everybody but the winners that winning is not everything. Perhaps, he suggested, some sports have become popular _because_ of their violence.
The theme that ran through Turner's comments about the Fastnet race was that he was in control and unafraid. The only fear he had, he told the American television audience, was fear itself. One of his competitors, Dennis Conner, echoed Turner's pride in fearlessness when he told the _New York Times_ that the worst thing about the race was that his boat, _Williwaw_ , did not win it. "It's no worse than the Indianapolis 500 race. We'll take our chances. The danger is part of it. We were racing all the time." Read literally, that meant that the Fastnet and the Indianapolis 500 races are equally dangerous, but what Conner probably wanted to say was that, like a race-car driver, he did not fear danger.
Turner and Conner were not alone. Almost every discussion in Plymouth after the eighty-five finishers arrived served as a means of isolating the survivors from fear, just as we in _Toscana_ had anesthetized ourselves against our knowledge of the tragedy during our sail in from the Isles of Scilly. Technical information and comparisons provided some security. For instance, just how hard it was blowing in the Western Approaches between 10:00 P.M. Monday and 6:00 P.M. Tuesday was anybody's guess, and, when the ordeal was over and the Plymouth pubs were full, a great many people were engaged in a great deal of guessing. Those who were not in the worst part of the storm and who survived with relatively little difficulty tended to discount the gale's strength in comparisons with storms they had previously experienced. The 1957 Fastnet, the 1977 race between Sydney, Australia, and Hobart, Tasmania, and the 1972 Bermuda Race were prime targets for comparison. Of _Toscana_ 's crew, for instance, John Coote had sailed in the Australian race and thought it was worse than the Fastnet; Eric Swenson said the 1972 Bermuda Race gale was the toughest storm he had experienced.
Well, then, how hard was it blowing? Fifty-five knots, sixty-five, _seventy_? And the waves—twenty feet, thirty, _fifty_? "Absurd," somebody would say, "it was never near sixty. In the 1957 Fastnet we . . . ." Eventually, the parrying and thrusting would get around to another question, the answer to which might provide some meaning for the calamity. That question was: "How did all those people die?" The only answers that seemed at the time to be emotionally acceptable were, "They made mistakes" or "Their boats broke up." Since there was no evidence either to prove or to disprove these explanations, the unsettling, true answer need never have been confronted. That answer, of course, was: "Because it was a truly terrible storm." To give that answer would be tantamount to admitting that _anybody_ could have died in the Western Approaches, and most people prefer not to believe that life is so uncertain.
People had been killed in sailboats, everybody knew that. A bad choice of season, poor seamanship, and unseaworthy boats had taken their share in the _Fleetwing, Hamrah_ , and _Airel_ tragedies. Those were technical problems, manageable in properly equipped modern boats sailed by the right people. They all could be explained. But what was threatening about the Fastnet tragedy was that _so many_ people had died in so many boats. How could anybody grasp that fact without feeling personally affected and that had _somebody_ to be at fault?
**_Siska_ 's boom broke as the storm began to die, and her crew reefed the mainsail and trimmed it without the spar.** _A. M. Patrick_
**More than a dozen boats lost rudders. Tiderace's rudder exploded and bent in the heavy seas.** _Peter Johnson_
**Many boats lost pulpits and lifelines when their masts broke. This is _Jan Pott_ 's mangled bow pulpit.** _Barry Pickthall_
**_Condor_ , one of the largest yachts in the race, set a spinnaker when the wind was still stronger than force 7 and sailed past _Kialoa_ , which had been first around Fastnet Rock, to be first to finish. The spinnaker was doused after the spinnaker sheet block broke during a wild broach and cut clean through this stainless-steel stanchion.** _Barry Pickthall_
Elsewhere, the argument that modern yachts are not seaworthy was particularly satisfying to people who owned older boats, who disliked the thought of offshore racing, or whose understanding of boats and the sea was based more on reading C. S. Forester's Hornblower novels or Joshua Slocum's _Sailing Alone Around the World_ than on practical experience. When it turned out that only five boats sank and that there was relatively little structural damage, the "bad boat" explanation was quickly jettisoned for another theory: the people who got in trouble had asked for it. They were inexperienced "Sunday sailors" with little knowledge of and even less respect for the traditions of the sea. "Many crews regard the Fastnet as a week's holiday, something to talk about when they get back home," one survivor, Richard Hughes, told the _Daily Mail._ "But when the weather turns like it did, people on board just aren't experienced enough to cope." Presumably, everybody else regarded the Fastnet as a week's work. Conditions that the Sunday sailors found dangerous and terrifying, true seamen experienced as a challenge.
The strongest criticism was reserved for the twenty-four crews who had abandoned their yachts. Since it was commonly believed that any boat afloat was safer than any life raft, the survivors and the press could come up with no explanation for the abandonments other than that the crews had panicked. There simply was no logical reason for leaving one's ship. When most of the abandoned boats that had been reported by their crews as sinking were found afloat, the critics saw further support for their attacks on the seamanship of the abandoning crews. The reports of seven deaths in or near life rafts (from _Gunslinger, Trophy_ , and _Ariadne_ ) further encouraged the critics.
Since the complete stories of most of the boats that were abandoned were not known for weeks or, in, many cases, are told for the first time in this book, many of the criticisms were based solely on a general rule of the sea: don't leave the ship. Yet the critics chose to ignore available evidence that the life rafts did save many sailors. For every man who died near a life raft, some fifteen were rescued out of one. Several survivors had suffered serious injuries that could never have been properly treated in the wrecked cabin of a wildly rolling yacht. Despite this evidence, it became widely believed that many underexperienced crews, composed of beginner sailors who never belonged in the Fastnet race to begin with, became terrified by a little rough weather and irresponsibly abandoned their structurally sound boats. Other crews, this theory continued, were surviving nicely until they were lured off their boats by Royal Navy helicopter crews. If everybody had stayed in his boat, there would have been only a few deaths.
**Several boats were rolled so violently that crew members were thrown against steering wheels with enough force to bend the rims. This happened on _Tenacious, Morning Cloud_ , and, illustrated here, the United States Naval Academy's _Alliance._** _Peter Cook_
For those who sought easy answers, who wanted to find some lesson in the calamity, and who themselves survived, this was a wonderfully attractive explanation. Initially, I was inclined to accept this theory because, based on _Toscana_ 's experience, I thought that the storm was not exceptional. Granted, I felt somewhat proud of our seamanship, and if we had succeeded in winning the race, the ego inflation which seemed to grip Ted Turner so tightly might have been tempting. Rarely does any man have opportunity to claim that he has beaten the elements. But the Plymouth bar talk quickly became transparent. Story after story from the boats that were distressed soon indicated that we were all trying to inoculate ourselves against the awareness that, at its worst, the storm was much more dangerous than, say, the 1972 Bermuda race gale, and that there had been excellent reason to be frightened.
We were engaged, then, in a kind of siege mentality. We could only admit so much about what really happened out there, like soldiers returning home from the front, afraid to confess that they had been tempted to turn tail and run like their comrades down the line. We would say this about the Western Approaches on August 14: the waves were steep, damn steep, but not steep enough to kill a true sailor; that the wind was strong, but not strong enough to blow over a solid boat; that it was bad all right, but not so bad that it forced able seamen to take to their life rafts like Sunday sailors. And we would not admit to having been frightened by vicious knockdowns, curling breakers, flooded cockpits, swinging booms.
This attitude infuriated loved ones who, having feared for our lives through the confused and frequently inaccurate stories that came out of Plymouth, embraced us tearfully only to hear that we had never been fearful, much less in danger. One skipper whispered to me after the race, "It really was a _great_ sail, the best one I've had in years." Only good taste prohibited him from repeating his memory to a public that knew that while he was out enjoying himself in the Western Approaches fifteen people drowned and hundreds more had their wits scared out of them. Whether or not my friend passed on his sentiments to his family and friends, I do not know, but his basic feeling about the race was not too different from mine or, for that matter, from Ted Turner's. When I told my closest friend that I had never been frightened and had felt challenged to my utmost, she said, with considerable heat, "I hung around the telephone for three days with tears in my eyes worrying that you were dead, _and you were out there having a good time_?"
Not until six weeks after the race was I able to recreate the experience and notice, for the first time, that responsibility and almost interminable activity had desensitized me. While a passenger on a small ferry boat heading to Block Island, which is about fifteen miles off the coast of New England, I stood on deck studying the waves. The ferry rolled with a familiar rhythm: swing to starboard, jerk, swing to port, jerk, swing to starboard. Looking forward, I saw miles and miles of waves methodically curling down at me. They were small and did not break, but they were so perservering, so ubiquitous. . . . I went into the cabin and read the newspaper.
One of the few skippers who both finished the race and admitted publicly to fear was Edward Heath, who, with Turner, was one of the two certifiable celebrities in the Fastnet. The status of the former British prime minister and his _Morning Cloud_ had been an important concern of the press. Even _Lloyd's List_ , a daily newspaper for the shipping trade, had opened its first report on the storm with, "Mr. Edward Heath's _Morning Cloud_ was reported rudderless and in trouble yesterday after a savage storm which was feared to have claimed at least two lives in the Fastnet race." When, to the surprise of _Toscana_ 's crew, _Morning Cloud_ finished at 5:45 P. M. Wednesday, a hoard of reporters and photographers clomped in their hard-soled shoes and high-heels over the decks of a dozen yachts to the ineffectual protests of a dozen angry crews, and stood waiting to capture Heath's first words.
**Former prime minister Edward Heath's _Morning Cloud_ , a member of the British Admiral's Cup team, finished the Fastnet race under a greatly demoralized crew after a bad knockdown. Heath is the man leaning against the lifelines near the stern.** _William Payne_
Normally dapper, composed, and alert, Heath looked drawn and tired. He did not mince words: "It was the worst experience I ever had. We were fighting massive seas. It was very frightening—the sort of thing you would never want to experience again." When a wave knocked the boat over, he told the reporters, he was thrown across the cabin and badly bruised. Two men, he said, were almost washed overboard. The tabloid newspapers the next day ran headlines such as "Ted: My Worst Hours" with photographs of a relieved Heath sipping a beer. A few days later Heath elaborated somewhat on his experience in a column in a Sunday newspaper, although he continued to underplay the seriousness of the near capsize, in which several men actually were thrown overboard, and he did not explain the rumor of rudder damage or why _Morning Cloud_ finished so far behind most of the other Admiral's Cup boats ( _Toscana_ gained four hours on her after Fastnet Rock). Heath never took advantage of his position in the public eye to claim for him- self any special powers, skills, or knowledge. His hesitancy fully to dramatize _Morning Cloud_ 's misfortunes and his crew's demoralization may have been based on a sincere respect for the agonies of the sailors much more unlucky than he. He may also have been sensitive to the memories of the tragedy of a previous _Morning Cloud_ which, in 1974, had sunk in the English Channel after two crew members (one his godson; Heath was not on board) were lost and drowned. A week after the storm, in an article in the _Daily Telegraph_ , Heath made constructive criticisms of the Royal Ocean Racing Club's regulations on radios and of the weather forecasting agencies, arguing that two-way radios should be required in all boats and that the time delay between weather forecasts and broadcasts should be reduced by the meteorological office. He also suggested that safety equipment be more thoroughly inspected before races and that authorities develop rules that would encourage stronger boats. Not once did he criticize the seamanship of his competitors.
Once the extent of the disaster became known, the Royal Ocean Racing Club inevitably became the focus of attention. Some people, including the widely respected yachting journalist Jack Knights, criticized the club for not calling off the race when the gale forecasts were made Monday afternoon. Many journalists looked to the RORC and its salaried secretary, Alan Green, for enlightenment on and comment about how such a tragedy could have come about.
In this most introverted of sports, the RORC was unprepared to defend or even to explain itself to the outside world. Before the gale, its officers and officials, many of whom were sailing in the race, had anticipated that their greatest problem would be with the calculation of the final standings. When the storm broke, Alan Green was preparing to settle down for two days in the Plymouth breakwater's lighthouse in order to record the times of finishers and John Clothier, a rear-commodore of the club, was feeling disappointment at having to miss sailing the race in his own yacht, _Polar Bear._
By Tuesday afternoon, Green, Clothier, and members of the RORC and Plymouth's Royal Western Yacht Club were improvising an emergency procedure in consultation with the military rescue services, compiling a list of the boats that had actually started the race, contacting the next of kin of dead or missing yachtsmen, and trying to cope with a clamoring and confused press. A very high priority was to account for all the entrants via reports from helicopter crews and lifeboats and by requesting yachtsmen to call in their status over marine radio or, if they were ashore, by telephone. Unfortunately, few radio frequencies and telephone lines were available, and many crews either did not hear the requests to report that were broadcast over commercial radio or did not have the ability to transmit messages. Through Wednesday there remained a large number of boats in a category called "Not Accounted For," including _Toscana._
Intended to be noncommittal, this phrase soon became a synonym for "sunk" in the minds of some reporters and frightened relatives and friends of Fastnet race crews. In England there were enough backup information services at hand to provide confirmation that a boat in this category was presumed safe, but in the United States concern for the lives of twelve sailors took a turn toward pessimism when most of the American boats were reported as not accounted for. In the confusion, somebody came to believe that two boats representing the United States in the Admiral's Cup, _Imp_ and _Williwaw_ , had sunk and that _Aries_ , the third boat on the team, had probably sunk.
The rumor spread like the plague in the United States through newspaper offices, boating magazines, and even the national sailing authority, the United States Yacht Racing Union. Confirmation was almost impossible, since the three boats had not yet finished and the telephone lines into Plymouth were jammed. Obituaries of some American sailors were published in their hometown newspapers. On Wednesday the _New York Times_ inserted the reports of the sinkings into a front-page story on the race, citing a spokesman for the United States Yacht Racing Union as a source. In every other way accurate and restrained, the _Times_ article had been written by Joseph Collins, an English journalist who worked at the newspaper's large London bureau. On Thursday, Collins went to Plymouth, from where I had been telephoning to the _Times_ stories about my own experiences and about the rescue efforts. Not knowing about the insertion into his article of the inaccurate news about the sinkings of the three U.S. boats, he conducted interviews with some American sailors who, when they heard which newspaper he represented, turned coldly polite. Fortunately, Collins did not attend a press conference at which Alan Green harshly criticized the _Times_ for its "grossly inaccurate" reports. Surprised by the outburst, an Australian reporter asked Green how he felt about his country's newspapers. "I'll include Australian newspapers in that charge," Green answered tersely.
One had to sympathize with Green's testiness. A reserved, cautious man who had been hired a year or so earlier to organize races, he obviously was uncomfortable at his daily press conferences when some reporters continued to ask questions along the lines of, "When are you going to stop drowning people?" Suddenly a subject of massive public interest now that it had been unlucky enough to be involved with a major tragedy, ocean racing and its traditions remained distant and complicated in the minds of people used to the immediacy and simplicity of spectator sports such as football.
"Why wasn't the race canceled when you heard the storm warnings?" Green was asked several times. He pursed his lips, looked at the floor, and in measured words said, "The way the sport is organized, it is the skipper's responsibility to decide whether to race or not."
"What should the public think about so many yachtsmen risking their lives and the lives of the men in the rescue services?"
"Public opinion will have to make up its own mind," Green answered. "And sailors must make up _their_ own minds whether they wish to face the risks of the sea."
"A Labour MP, Sydney Bidwell, says that the RORC should help pay for the cost of the rescue services because yachtsmen are 'well-heeled, well-to-do people indulging in a fairly expensive sport for their own pleasure.' What do _you_ have to say about that?"
For once, Green did not look at the floor while he answered. "I have no comment."
Each press conference included a prolonged line of questioning about weather forecasting: was it timely and sufficient? Green argued that the storm was so fast-moving and violent that it was exceptional—"freak" was a word that he used frequently. Although this appeared to let the meteorological office, which had been taking severe criticism for tardy forecasts, off the hook, the weathermen came back at Green to argue that the storm was by no means freakish. Small intense depressions can form anytime, they said, and, in fact, three times in the twentieth century there had been deeper depressions during August. Neither Green nor the sailors seemed willing to argue such a fine point. Although many people were, like Edward Heath, critical of the lagtime between weather forecasts and weather broadcasts, some critics admitted that even a timely forecast of a force 10 gale would not have given sufficient warning to allow most of the Fastnet fleet to get to port before the worst part of the storm struck.
**Alan Green.** _Jonathan Eastland_
At each press conference, Green was flanked by survivors who, in one way or another, testified as to the violence of the storm. One was Syd Fischer, an Australian whose _Ragamuffin_ was a member of the winning team in the Admiral's Cup. Australia has a reputation for weather of the most violent kind, so when the reporters—none of whom, except myself, had sailed in the race—heard Fischer say that the storm was perhaps as bad as any he had seen at home, they were impressed. Fischer estimated the peak wind speed at seventy knots.
Jonathan Bradbeer, an RORC rear-commodore, described his race in _Eclipse_ , the English boat that finished second, as "far and away above anything we've experienced before." It was, he continued, "a great experience" to go so fast under a small jib alone. Frequently, these speakers were introduced by two club officers whose own boats had been unable to finish because of damage—Commodore Donald Parr, owner of _Quailo_ , and Rear Commodore John Clothier, who owned but did not sail in _Polar Bear_ , whose crew had been rescued by the _Overijssel._
These points began to sink in by Friday, as the first euphoria of surviving wore off the sailors and most journalists finally came to understand that there was no villain to track down. The removal of the two bodies from the _Overijssel_ may have helped to put a perspective on the tragedy; so also might have a memorial service held at the Plymouth Cathedral after a somber prize awards ceremony. More than two thousand people attended the memorial service, including four Royal Navy helicopter pilots from Culdrose. Some survivors held a fund-raising party at a local pub for the Royal National Life-boat Institution. Reports about the massive and heroic rescue efforts, in fact, did much to elevate people's concerns above petty bickering and self-serving criticisms.
**A body is carried from the _Overijssel_ after she docked at Plymouth on Thursday, August 16.** _Press Association_
Queen Elizabeth sent this message to the RORC: "I have been following the course of the Fastnet race with much distress. Prince Philip joins me in sending our deepest sympathy to the families of those who died. I have much admired the courage and skill of the rescue teams in their unceasing efforts to rescue the survivors."
It is natural, the _Daily Telegraph_ noted in a wise and sensitive editorial, for people to look for scapegoats and to believe that tragedy is avoidable, but "If we still value the qualities of daring, comradeship, and endurance in our national life we should cherish the sports which foster them with the risks they carry. The lessons of Fastnet should be studied calmly and applied sensibly but in the knowledge that they can never expel danger from yachting and the conviction that it will be a sad and bad day when this seafaring people declines the challenge of the ocean."
## **10** **Lessons Learned and Unlearned**
**_Ariadne_ on Friday, August 17, moments after she was towed Into Penzance, Cornwall.** _Cornish Photonews_
**T** HE SURVIVORS OF _Grimalkin, Trophy_ , and _Ariadne_ —boats that lost nine of the fifteen men who were killed during the Fastnet race—had immediate concerns other than talking to the press.
After Nick Ward and the body of Gerry Winks were lifted from the deck of _Grimalkin_ , they were flown to Culdrose, where doctors ordered Ward transferred to Treliske Hospital, in Truro. There, he was given medication intravenously, and the doctors told him that his leg, though badly bruised, was not broken. Surgeon Commander C. W. Millar, a doctor based at Culdrose, telephoned Ward's anxious parents with the happy news that their son had been the 122nd person rescued on Tuesday, August 14.
The last the Wards had heard from _Grimalkin_ was a message relayed on Monday evening by David Sheahan's wife, who reported that all was well in the boat. Having been kept awake most of Monday night by the strong winds that buffeted their house in Hamble, near Southampton, the Wards arose to the first radio reports of death and destruction in the Western Approaches. Mrs. Ward went to work, leaving her retired husband, Stanley, to worry over the radio. At 12:30 P.M., John Clothier, the Royal Ocean Racing Club rear-commodore who had not sailed in the race, telephoned from Plymouth to say that a life raft containing three survivors of _Grimalkin_ had been found, but that Nick was not aboard. Mr. Ward picked up his wife from her job and they telephoned the bad news to another son and their daughter. With their son, Simon, and his wife, the Wards stood by the telephone and radio much (as Mrs. Ward later recalled) like wartime families waiting to hear news about relatives caught in an air raid. They attempted several times to get through to the RORC office in Plymouth, but the lines were engaged. When their daughter, Cheryl, telephoned the club's clubhouse in London, she was told to call Plymouth, but she also encountered busy signals. Meanwhile, Mrs. Ward's brother, who lived in Plymouth, went to the RORC office but there was no news there. The long, agonizing watch over the telephone was finally ended by Surgeon Commander Millar's call at 9:30.
The Wards drove to Plymouth on Wednesday, where they stayed with relatives and talked to Nick over the telephone. The next day they were allowed to pick him up at the hospital. Among his visitors during his recuperation had been the bishop of Truro, a reporter from the _International Herald Tribune_ , a representative of the Seaman's Mission asking if Nick needed help in order to return home, Mike Doyle, and Margaret Winks. Nick told Mrs. Winks of her husband's last moments on the heaving deck of the little sloop and of his message to her.
Several days after his release, Nick Ward joined Matthew Sheahan on a trip to Ireland to inspect _Grimalkin_ , which a fishing boat had towed into Baltimore. Nick remembers sensing tension between them—something he had also noticed when Mike Doyle visited him in the hospital—yet their common interest in the boat seemed to smooth over any harsh feelings about the abandonment of Ward and Winks by Sheahan, Doyle, and Dave Wheeler. They knew from photographs that somebody had gone aboard and cleared away the mess of tangled rigging, and they also knew that the boat was still floating. When the bus they were riding drove down a hill to the harbor, Ward became excited: there was _Grimalkin._ The driver asked them if they were part of her crew, and they said they were. "Well," he responded genially, "don't tell anybody here or everybody in town will want to buy you a drink." They somehow kept the news of their arrival quiet.
When they went aboard, they found that some money had been taken—possibly by salvagers as reasonable compensation for the rescue—but in most respects she was ready to be rerigged and taken to sea again. Sheahan and Ward set to work cleaning _Grimalkin_ up and planning for future races.
Stanley Ward was not willing to forget that his son had been left for dead. Although he respected Nick's desire to forgive the three men who abandoned _Grimalkin_ , he made it clear that he thought the decision to leave them was unseamanlike. How strongly his feelings were influenced by his relationship to Nick may be judged from the warm, thankful letters that he wrote to Surgeon Commander Millar and to the parents of Peter Harrison, the young midshipman who had dropped down to the sloop from the Royal Navy helicopter. "It does seem to me," Mr. Ward's letter to the Harrisons ended, "that despite the gloom and tragedy which seems to cover our dear land, there is still bright hope for the future whilst young men like your son, and perhaps our Nicholas, flourish and prosper."
_Trophy_ , three of whose crew died after their life raft split apart, drifted in the Western Approaches for two days before HMS _Angelesey_ , the Royal Navy fishery protection vessel, took her in tow during the gale that sprang up Thursday. While under tow, the dismasted _Trophy_ capsized twice and the _Anglesey_ finally let her go on Friday. She was soon taken under tow again by a power yacht on her way from Sweden to Portugal, which pulled her into Falmouth.
Her owner, Alan Bartlett, became an unwilling celebrity of the disaster because he was the brother-in-law of a popular English comedian, Eric Morecomb. After being interviewed by Nicholas Roe for an excellent story about _Trophy_ 's experiences that appeared soon after the gale in the _Sunday Telegraph_ , Bartlett tired of the attention and stopped talking to writers. Simon Fleming, the ginger-bearded man who had hauled Bartlett out of the water and was later left to drift alone in a section of the raft, shaved off his beard and went back to sailing. During a race the weekend after his ordeal, Fleming discovered two things: first, his arms were so weakened and sore that he was almost helpless in the boat; second, he was frightened, and he several times asked himself if the boat he was in would capsize. He looked forward to sailing in another Fastnet race, but, he has asserted with the same anger that may have kept him alive that cold Tuesday morning, "I'll never get into a liferaft before the boat sinks. I'll lay somebody out before I do that again."
After the _Nanna_ rescued him from _Ariadne_ 's capsized life raft, Matthew Hunt called his mother on the coaster's radio telephone. Mrs. Hunt was nearly frantic when she heard the news of the gale, for not only was her nineteen-year-old son out in the Western Approaches, but also her husband was aboard _Morningtown_ , the RORC's escort vessel. Dr. Hunt was no less worried. While _Morningtown_ stood by such damaged yachts as _Trophy_ , her radio blared out reports of distress, among them the deaths of four men from _Ariadne._ Not until Tuesday night did Dr. Hunt know that Matthew was alive and Mrs. Hunt believe that both her husband and her son were safe.
Matthew himself did not know until Wednesday morning that, as he suspected, Hal Ferris had died. On the front page of the _Daily Mail_ was a large photograph of an airman dropping down to a comatose man floating face up in a life jacket, his hands folded across his chest. Ferris was still breathing when he was hauled into the helicopter, but his eyes were rolled back. Despite continuous mouth-to-mouth resuscitation performed by the airmen, he died during the short flight directly to Truro Hospital. He had survived in the water for over five hours, longer than anyone could have reasonably expected.
First reported sunk, _Ariadne_ was recovered and towed to Penzance, where she lay for almost three months under the care of the Receiver of Wrecks. Apparently she was vandalized sometime between her abandonment and her arrival at Penzance, the intruders cutting through the bulkheads that separated the cabin from the cockpit, perhaps to remove electronic instruments that Hal Ferris and his crew had installed so carefully. In early November, she was hauled out of the water, placed on a flatbed truck, and taken to Plymouth to be sold.
Matthew Hunt was a sad young man when he returned to his home near Colchester, in Essex, and the public response to the race and to _Ariadne_ 's tragedy did nothing to cheer him up. Few people knew much about the boat except that her owner had been an American and that she had lost more people than any other yacht in the race. There were nuisance telephone calls and outright criticisms in the press of the crew's seamanship. Matthew and Rob Gilders visited with Bob Robie's widow and sons, who were eager to know what had happened, and they attended David Crisp's funeral. Matthew's strong, supportive family and friends rallied around and tried to cheer him up. His friends were able to convince him to learn the exuberant sport of windsurfing, and he was made happy by the news that he had been accepted into medical school and so could follow in his father's footsteps.
**An airman drops down to Frank Ferris, the owner of _Ariadne._ Mora than any other photograph, this one, published in newspapers worldwide, spoke of the horror of the Fastnet race storm. Barely alive when this was taken, Ferris died In the helicopter on the way to the Truro hospital.** _Royal Navy_
In late August, stung by attacks on Hal Ferris's judgment by Bob Fisher, yachting correspondent of the _Guardian_ , Matthew Hunt wrote the following letter, which soon was published in the newspaper:
Sir: I would like to reply to an article by Bob Fisher in which he criticizes people in the Fastnet race for ignoring safety "rules." He made particular reference to the yacht _Ariadne_ as an example of a boat whose crew abandoned ship when it was not necessary.
I entirely agree that one should stay with the boat for as long as possible. In my opinion, however, and in the opinion of all the other people on the boat, this is what we did.
On the first roll, we lost the mast, half-filled with water, and a man was badly injured. On the next roll, we lost a man. Had we done a third roll, which was almost inevitable, we might have lost another man or been badly injured by the hard-pointed interior of the boat; we might have sunk without being able to launch the life raft; or we might have lost the life raft—who knows?
Also, having been bailing the boat for a long time, we would probably have been too exhausted to cope with another knockdown.
I also feel it is worth mentioning the terrific feeling of security once we were in the life raft, and I'm sure that the psychological boost gained from this enabled us to keep going for a few minutes longer—very valuable moments in my case.
Matthew Hunt
Colchester, Essex
Although several bodies of men thought to be Fastnet race fatalities were discovered in fishing nets pulled aboard trawlers along the Cornish and Irish coasts, the remains of Bob Robie and Bill LeFevre were not found. Neither was the body of David Sheahan, owner of _Grimalkin._
Memorial services were held for the Fastnet dead in Sydney, Australia, Cowes, and, in November, the RORC's own service at St. Martin's-in-the-Fields church in London. The lord mayor of Plymouth established a fund for the families of men who had died in the race to which almost £21,000 (over $45,000) eventually was contributed—£12,000 ($26,000) by the Australian government. The Royal National Life-boat Institution directed a special appeal to non-British sailors who had sailed in the race. The British Yachting Journalists' Association awarded its annual Yachtsman of the Year award not to a race winner, as is the custom, but to Alain Catherineau, skipper of _Lorelei_ , the French yacht that had saved seven survivors from _Griffin._ Some Americans proposed an award that would honor the memory of those who died in the race by being given to racing sailors who display conspicuous gallantry and seamanship in rescue attempts.
After the general-audience press moved on to other subjects, the autumn issues of British, European, and American yachting magazines were filled with technical studies of the storm itself and of what might possibly have gone wrong, most of them written from a practical, what-can-we-learn-here point of view. Only in the regional news columns of an English magazine, _Yachting Monthly_ , was the intensely human side of the tragedy replayed from month to month as local correspondents mourned the deaths of friends, repeated accounts of individual experiences aboard boats that survived the storm, described the heroism of the rescuers, and praised the warm reception provided to distressed yachtsmen by harborside towns—particularly those along the coast of Ireland.
Except in those columns, the flood of descriptions, analyses, and opinions died down in November as everybody awaited the report of an inquiry into the race that was conducted by the Royal Ocean Racing Club and the Royal Yachting Association. Apparently worried about possible government interference in their activities, and obviously desirous of learning as much as possible about the storm and the ways in which crews and boats reacted to it, the inquiry committee devised and mailed to each of the skippers three copies of a questionnaire that asked about the race in enormous detail, with more than 230 questions. The survey was about as thorough as one could hope, although it did take some things for granted. For instance, when it asked the skippers for information about barometer readings, it assumed that all boats carried barometers. Most did; this is the most basic means of evaluating weather. One boat that did not was _Aries_ , Michael Swerdlow's forty-six-footer that was a member of the American Admiral's Cup team, whose crew apparently felt that weather broadcasts would tell them all they needed to know. In addition, since the questionnaire would be evaluated by a computer, many of the answers were in a "yes/no" format. There was no provision for "maybe," which sometimes was the only possible answer.
In any case, the inquiry received back completed forms for 235 boats, plus forms for another 30 that were returned too late for evaluation. The final seventy-six-page report released on December 7, less than four months after the gale, was based on the experiences of 78 percent of the boats in the fleet. (Since the questionnaires were to be distributed by each skipper to the two most experienced crew members, a total of 669 actual questionnaires were returned; the committee did not describe how it handled differences of opinion between crew members in the same boat.)
Briefly, the report confirmed that this storm was something special. About 70 percent of the respondents estimated maximum wind speed at force 11 or above (fifty-six or more knots), and the significant (or largest average) wave height at greater than thirty feet (44 percent thought the largest waves were forty feet or more in height). The effects of this seaway were extraordinary. Forty-eight percent of the boats reported knockdowns to horizontal or almost horizontal. Thirty-three percent reported that they had experienced a knockdown beyond horizontal, including a 360-degree roll—a total of seventy-seven boats. (Unfortunately, the question was misleading and it would have been easy to indicate that a rollover had been experienced even if a boat was knocked down to just beyond horizontal. Conservatively assuming that only half of those boats—thirty-eight—were actually rolled over entirely, one-eighth of the entire Fastnet fleet still experienced the catastrophe of a complete capsize.) Of the twenty-three respondents who abandoned their boats, all but one experienced a complete rollover, and while a disproportionate number of smaller boats were rolled entirely over, six of the forty respondents in Class I (boats between about forty-four and fifty-five feet) claimed to have been rolled over.
While there was data to suggest that the lighter, shallower boats such as _Grimalkin_ , which have become popular in ocean racing over the past two or three years, may have been more vulnerable to these catastrophic knockdowns than heavier boats such as _Toscana_ , the inquiry committee was not able to state absolutely that a causal relationship existed between the type of boat design and ability to take the seas in the Western Approaches. Forty-three percent of those knocked over answered yes to the question, "Would any boat of similar size inevitably have suffered a knockdown?" (the same percentage did not answer and only 13 percent answered no).
Some other data: 14 percent experienced "significant" structural damage, 11 percent suffered damage to steering gear, and 18 percent suffered "significant" damage to the mast. One-third said that entry of water was a problem; 11 percent said that the amount of water in the boat affected the decisions that were made. Serious injuries occurred below in 5 percent of the boats, almost all of them during rollovers. Eleven percent of the respondents experienced at least one instance of safety harness failure. Twelve life rafts were washed overboard, and of the fifteen that were used, five capsized.
The inquiry addressed the questions of crew experience and knowledge by asking how many long-distance races of various lengths the skippers had sailed and then factoring the results against the record of knockdowns and damage. Experience levels were high. Seventy-seven percent of the skippers had sailed in seven races between one hundred and two hundred miles long, 56 percent had sailed in seven or more races between two hundred and five hundred miles long, and 55 percent had sailed in at least three races longer than five hundred miles. A slightly disproportionate number of the less experienced skippers experienced rollovers and hull or rig damage, and a disproportionate number of the most experienced skippers did _not_ have problems—-but once again, the differences are small.
What was the greatest danger? "Steep breaking sea"—44 percent; "knockdown/capsize"—16 percent; "crew injury," "man overboard," and "rig damage"—6 percent each.
Answers to various questions indicated that all four traditional storm tactics—lying a-hull, running before it with warps dragging and without warps dragging, and heaving-to—worked about equally well. Three-quarters of the respondents said they would use the same tactic again. In the words of the committee, "No magic formula for guaranteeing survival emerges from those who were caught in the storm. There is, however, an inference that active rather than passive tactics were successful and those who were able to maintain some speed and directional control fared best." That certainly was the experience in _Toscana, Police Car_ , and _Lorelei_ , whose skipper found that he could conduct the rescue only when he approached _Griffin_ 's life raft at speed. The committee concluded that other factors at play in avoiding bad knockdowns included the skill of the helmsman and whether or not a boat was unlucky enough to be caught by an especially bad wave. While Britain's Institute of Oceanographic Sciences told the inquiry that the Labadie Bank could not have influenced wave height or shape, 57 percent of the respondents to the questionnaire felt that the depth of water affected the sea conditions.
The crews that abandoned their boats believed that the risk of staying on board was unacceptably high, the committee reported, although two boats "were abandoned simply on the grounds that the life raft was likely to provide more security than the virtually undamaged hull of the yacht." (The inquiry committee did not cite by name boats other than the three that rescued competitors.) The committee praised the rescue services and, while pointing out that error is inevitable in such unusual conditions, the seamanship, navigation, and courage of the yachtsmen themselves.
Neither two-way radios nor a smaller fleet nor any other single factor would have forestalled disaster, the committee appeared to conclude. This was an experienced group of sailors exposed to an exceptionally severe sea condition. Some of the boats may not have been quite as stable as they should have been, and some equipment should have been stronger, yet as elucidated in the report's last paragraph, the lesson was: "In the 1979 race the sea showed that it can be a deadly enemy and that those who go to sea for pleasure must do so in full knowledge that they may encounter dangers of the highest order."
Whether drawn from narratives or statistics, this lesson did not at first seem universally understood—or, if it was, it may have led some people into and not away from great risks at sea.
On September 21, five weeks after the storm, thirty-two men and women started a race from Penzance to the Canary Islands, from where they would race to Antigua. Each sailor was alone in a boat no longer than twenty-one feet. Twenty-five boats had finished at Tenerife by late October. Of the others, three sank, two quit the race because of leaks, and two more were not accounted for. Fortunately, nobody died. In the 1977 running of this race, which was called the Mini Transat, two people were lost.
While this race was under way in the autumn of 1979, a Massachusetts real estate investor named John Tuttle was preparing his boat and a crew for a sail across the North Atlantic Ocean. _Desperado_ , an extremely lightweight 57-foot sloop, was waiting in New York City for a gale with which she could tag along as it crossed the ocean. Turtle's goal was to break the record of a bit over twelve days for the fastest transatlantic passage by a sailing vessel, set in 1905 by the 185-foot, three-masted schooner _Atlantic._ When the propitious storm appeared, _Desperado_ got under way. On December 8, her mast damaged, and several sailors injured after encounters with two gales, _Desperado_ was abandoned in mid-Atlantic by her nine crew members, who were picked up by a British container ship. "When the mast was jammed into the trough" of a forty-foot wave, Tuttle told the _New York Times_ , "we stopped like we had hit a brick wall. Food exploded out of the refrigerator and flew into the navigation station. Cottage cheese became a lethal weapon."
**The Irish yachting port of Crosshaven. Some of the yachts which abandoned the race made fast near the Royal Cork Yacht Club.** _Irish Times_
Later that month, during a gale off the coast of Australia, a yacht named _Charleston_ went down with five hands while being sailed to the start of the race from Sydney to Hobart, Tasmania. _Charleston_ was a new, untested thirty-five-footer. A few weeks after _Smackwater Jack_ , a well-tried boat of about the same size, disappeared during a storm while she was returning to New Zealand from the finish of the race. In her four-person crew were her designer, Paul Whiting, and his wife. That same storm forced _Condor of Bermuda_ , the huge sloop that had been first to finish the Fastnet race, to lie under bare poles for three days in seas reportedly as high as fifty feet. While nothing more may ever be known about the loss of the nine sailors, surely these victims of the sea—like the fifteen men of _Grimalkin, Trophy, Ariadne_ , and the other unlucky yachts in the Fastnet race—had rushed willingly down the hills to the water, only to find themselves caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Who should judge whether they were there for the wrong reason?
## Acknowledgments
**T** HE HELP AND ENCOURAGEMENT given me while I conducted research for and wrote this book might appear to be the result of an international conspiracy. That I sailed in the Fastnet race is due to Eric Swenson, who asked me to join him in _Toscana_ —an American boat named after a region in Italy. Eric eventually became a source of information, a sounding board for ideas, and my American editor.
The idea of writing a book on the gale and the havoc it wrought was first suggested to me by Sir Peter Johnson, an Englishman who, as the seventh baronet of New York, has American blood in his veins. Peter sailed in the race, and served as a research assistant and my English editor.
I conducted research in England during three trips in August, September, and November, 1979—a total of seven weeks in London, Essex, Hampshire, Devon, Cornwall, and the Isles of Scilly. My hostesses, who were unfailingly hospitable and tolerant of my ridiculous schedule, which often included dawn departures and midnight arrivals, were Mrs. Blanche L. Prescott, of Putney Heath, London, and Lady Caroline Johnson, of Lymington, Hampshire. Peter Johnson, his partners, Erroll Bruce and Richard Creagh-Osborne, and the pleasant and efficient staff at Nautical Publishing gave me the freedom of their office and helped me over many logistical hurdles.
I talked with dozens of survivors of the storm, many of whom are named in the text, but I especially would like to thank three men who courageously relived for me their painful experiences in boats that suffered fatalities: Nick Ward, of _Grimalkin_ ; Simon Fleming, of _Trophy_ ; and Matthew Hunt, of _Ariadne._ They are three of the bravest men I know. Other veterans of the race who were helpful were John Coote, our navigator in _Toscana_ ; Gary Jobson, Jim Mattingly, and Greg Shires, of _Tenacious_ ; John Kilroy, of _Kialoa;_ Dave Kilponen and John Marshall, of _Aries;_ Larry Marks, of _Morning Cloud;_ Malin Burnham, of _Williwaw;_ German Frers, Jr., of _Acadia;_ Dave Allen, of _Imp;_ and Chris Bouzaid, of _Police Car._ Pat Wells and Peter Webster, who were aboard _Morningtown_ and HNLMS _Overijssel_ , provided information about the rescue effort. Mrs. Robert Robie and her family very kindly took time at a difficult moment to talk with me about their husband and father, who was lost from _Ariadne._
Matthew Lethbridge, coxswain of the St. Mary's lifeboat, gave over most of a day to answer my questions about lifeboat duty, the Isles of Scilly, and his crew's service during the Fastnet gale. Brian Jenkins, also of St. Mary's, and Toby West, coxswain of the Falmouth lifeboat, also helped this American understand that most English of organizations, the Royal National Life-boat Institution.
The following provided unpublished reports and letters about or photographs of the storm: Alain Catherineau, of _Lorelei;_ John Ellis, of _Kate;_ Major J.K.C. Maclean, of _Fluter;_ George Tinley, of _Windswept_ (whose record was a twenty-page transcript of a telephone conversation with Richard Creagh-Osborne, whom I thank again); Peter Cook, editor of _Yachts and Yachting;_ and John Driscoll, then assistant editor of _Yachting World._ Major Hall, editor of _Yacht Racing/Cruising_ , and Bill Wallace, of the _New York Times_ , arranged for me to cover the Admiral's Cup and the Fastnet race for their publications, thereby providing me with press credentials.
My old friend Eric Olsen appeared in Plymouth at the very moment when I agreed in principle to write this book, and the next day, August 19, he offered me the benefit of his considerable knowledge of boat construction and seamanship during a brainstorming session as we drove along the narrow roads of Cornwall. After we returned to the United States, we spent another fruitful day studying weather maps and tracking the gale, and he later offered several insights into the causes of the calamity in the Western Approaches.
Erroll Bruce, who probably knows more about going to sea in small boats than any other man, read early drafts of the manuscript and was helpful on the subject of the psychological effects of storms on sailors. Ingrid Holford, in Lymington, and David J. Schwab, of the Great Lakes Environmental Research Laboratory at the University of Michigan, provided information about wave formation. Steve Lirakis, of Newport, Rhode Island, provided insights about safety harnesses. Hal Roth and Harvey Loomis gave the final manuscript thorough, helpful readings.
Three public relations offices were helpful. Second Officer Judy Sherwood and Chief Petty Officer Pete Ferris provided photographs, allowed me to interview a helicopter crew, and clarified printed reports during my two visits to the Royal Naval Air Station at Culdrose.
Tim Hunt, press officer at the Southern Rescue Co-ordination Centre at Plymouth, gave me access to his file of clippings and explained the mechanics of the search and rescue services. And the staffs at the London and Poole offices of the Royal National Life-boat Institution supplied information about the lifeboats.
I would like to emphasize that at no time did I receive special assistance from the Royal Ocean Racing Club, which was extremely busy with its own—very different—study of the gale and its effects on the Fastnet race fleet. The report of their inquiry (conducted in partnership with the Royal Yachting Association) was by my side as I was completing the manuscript on December 14, and I have summarized its major findings in chapter 10. Theirs is a thorough analysis based on questionnaires filled out by over two hundred skippers. This book, on the other hand, is a narrative based on interviews and published material about some seventy yachts and rescue craft. We appear to agree on every important conclusion. Sailors interested in highly technical matters will find the report fascinating; it is available from the Royal Ocean Racing Club, 2 St. James's Place, London SW1A INN, or from the United States Yacht Racing Union, P.O. Box 209, Newport, Rhode Island 02840.
Finally, I would like to thank several people who have helped during the four months I worked on this book by providing the perspective that every author needs. Charles Taylor and my friends on Roosevelt Island, New York, helped me to understand some personal reactions I have had to the calamity. My parents provided important housekeeping support and were enthusiastic guinea pigs for various drafts of the manuscript. Ann Marie Cunningham, lately of the Presidential Commission on the Accident at Three Mile Island, in her own way encouraged my attempt to understand and explain an event about which she has unpleasant memories, knowing that my work on this tragedy has been as important to me as her work on another disaster was to her. I hope that the dedication page properly thanks my sons, William Pierce and Dana Starr Rousmaniere, for their patience and encouragement.
J.R.
## **Appendices / Sources / Index**
## Appendix I
**Summary of Finishes, Abandonments, and Sinkings**
* Boats were assigned to various classes not by their overall length but by their International Offshore Rule ratings, which are determined by a formula involving many speed-producing and speed-inhibiting factors and which are intended to indicate the potential speed of racing boats. When the race is over, the IOR ratings are factored against the boats' elapsed times on the course to calculate corrected times, which are then compared to determine the overall standings. Since some large boats may have relatively low ratings and some small boats may have relatively large ratings, the "approximate size limits" only indicate the size range of the majority of boats in each class. For example, in Class III there were entered several forty-footers and one thirty-footer. The IOR limits for each class are assigned by the Royal Ocean Racing Club at the beginning of each racing season.
## Appendix II
### **Rescue Services**
_**Fixed-wing Aircraft**_ Nimrod Mark 1 aircraft based at Kinloss and St. Mawgan flew a total of 109.25 hours on August 14, 15, and 16. The Royal Air Force Nimrod is an antisubmarine warfare, four-engine aircraft that is also used for search and rescue. It has a crew of twelve and carries eight life rafts for dropping. Its communications include double sideband, single sideband, aero very high frequency and ultra high frequency, and marine very high frequency radios. It is also equipped to receive signals from emergency location transmitters. Closing down two of its Rolls-Royce Spey 250 jet engines, it can fly for extended periods of time, and with facilities for two navigators, it often is designated as on-scene commander in search missions. The first Nimrod assumed this role early on the morning of August 14 before handing over to HMS _Broadsword._
In addition, one French Atlantique flew for eight hours on August 16, and an Irish Beech King aircraft flew six sorties for a total of 18.3 hours. The total fixed-wing air time was 135.55 hours.
**_Helicopters_** Taking off at Culdrose, Royal Navy helicopters flew sixty-two sorties for a total of 195.05 hours. These were Wessex, Sea King, and Lynx helicopters. Flying from Chivenor and Brawdy, RAF Whirlwind and Sea King helicopters flew nine sorties for 17.1 hours. Irish helicopters flew two sorties for 4.2 hours. The total hours for all helicopters were 216.35.
On August 14, helicopters recovered seventy-four survivors and two bodies from yachts and life rafts. On August 17, another body was recovered.
**_Military Surface Vessels_** The Dutch frigate HNLMS _Overijssel_ and the British fishery protection vessel HMS _Anglesey_ participated in the search and rescue operation from the onset of the storm, late on the night of August 13, until August 16. The British frigate HMS _Broadsword_ assumed the role of on-scene commander at 5:30 P.M. August 14 and served through August 16. Two tugs, RMAS _Rollicker_ and _Robust_ , participated in the operation from August 14 through August 16. Other military vessels in the search were HMS _Scylla_ , RFA _Olna_ , and the Irish patrol vessel _Dierdre._
**_Nonmilitary Vessels (other than lifeboats_ )** Commercial vessels known to have aided in the search and rescue were MV _Nanna_ (the West German coaster that saved the survivors of _Ariadne_ ), the MV _Chestree_ , the trawlers _Sanyann, Petit Poisson_ , and _Massingy_ , and a Dutch trawler carrying a side number "6."
**_Lifeboats_** Thirteen Royal National Life-boat Institution stations in Ireland and England were called into service, the first at 10:15 P.M. August 13 and the last at 4:14 A.M. August 16. They served a total of 169.6 hours and towed in nine yachts, escorted in nine yachts, and took a doctor to a yacht.
**_Communications_** Unlike the American Coast Guard, in Britain HM Coastguard is a shore-based organization responsible for coordinating rescue services. The Land's End Coastguard station monitors marine radio frequencies and is responsible for much of the eastern Atlantic. The Southern Rescue Co-ordination Centre, at Plymouth, kept in constant touch with the Land's End station and coordinated navy and air force operations.
**Some Rescue Positions**
## Appendix III
Search and rescue helicopters reported the following incidents at estimated positions on August 14. The key numbers refer to the chart above, and the time given is Greenwich Mean Time, one hour earlier than British Summer Time, which is used in the text. Though the yachts in the race were stretched along the course between Land's End and Fastnet Rock, most helicopter activity was evidently in an area centered seventy miles west-north-west of Land's End, and with about a forty-mile diameter.
## Sources
### Books and Articles
Ames, Ben, "To Cuxhaven in _Hamburg_ ," "Yachting," October 1936
Axthelm, Pete, "Tragedy in Toyland," _Newsweek_ , August 27, 1979
Beck, Horace, _Folklore & the Sea_ (Middletown, Ct.: Wesleyan University Press and Mystic Seaport, 1973)
Belloc, Hilaire, _On Sailing the Sea_ (London: Rupert Hart-Davis, 1951)
Briggs, Katherine M., A _Dictionary of British Folk-Tales in the English Language_ , part B, vol. 2 (London: Routledge, 1970)
Campbell, Joseph, _The Mythic Image_ (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1974)
Coles, K. Adlard, _Heavy Weather Sailing_ (Clinton Corners, N.Y.: John de Graff, revised edition, 1975)
Collins, Wilkie, "To the Scilly Islands," in _Rambles Beyond Railways_ , _or Notes in Cornwall Taken A-Foot_ (London: Westaway Books, 1948)
Elder, Michael, _For Those in Peril: The Story of the Life-Boat Service_ (London: John Murray, 1963)
Fowles, John, _Shipwreck_ (London: Jonathan Cape, 1974)
Gill, Crispin, _The Isles of Scilly_ (Newton Abbot: David & Charles, 1975)
Holford, Ingrid, _British Weather Disasters_ (Newton Abbot: David & Charles, 1976)
Holford, Ingrid, _The Yachtsman's Weather Guide_ (London: Ward Lock, 1979)
Larn, Richard, _Cornish Shipwrecks_ , volume 3, _The Isles of Scilly_ (New York: Taplinger, 1971)
Loomis, Alfred F., _Ocean Racing, 1866–1935_ (New York: Morrow, 1936)
Luard, W.B., _Where the Tides Meet_ (London: Nicholson & Watson, 1948)
Middleton, E.W., _Lifeboats of the World_ (New York: Arco, 1978)
Parker, Selwyn, "Anatomy of a Disaster," _Magill_ , September 1979 Partridge, Eric, _Origins: A Short Etymological Dictionary of Modern_ _English_ (New York: Macmillan, 1958)
Phillips-Birt, Douglas, _British Ocean Racing_ (London: Adlard Coles, 1960)
Plym, Gustav, _Yacht and Sea_ (London: Adlard Coles, 1961)
Royal Navy, _The West Coasts of England and Wales Pilot_ , 10th and 11th editions
Royal Ocean Racing Club and Royal Yachting Association, _1979 Fastnet Race Inquiry Report_ (London, 1979)
Van Dorn, William G., _Oceanography and Seamanship_ (New York: Dodd, Mead, 1974)
The events that occurred in the Western Approaches on August 13, 14, 15, and 16 received immense international attention, and the accounts published at that time in many newspapers and magazines were important sources. The British and American yachting magazines listed below published many accounts and analyses of the storm in issues between October 1979 and March 1980. Nicholas Roe's article, "Last Race of the Yacht _Trophy_ ," in the August 19 _Sunday Telegraph_ , was perhaps the best piece of journalism published immediately after the race. Another London Sunday newspaper, the _Observer_ , devoted much of its magazine of November 25 to an article about the race, "Pitch-Poled in the Fastnet," which was one of the few analyses of the disaster written for the general reader.
**Newspapers**
LONDON— _Daily Express, Daily Mail, Daily Mirror, Daily Star, Daily Telegraph, Guardian, Lloyd's List, Observer, Sunday Telegraph._ (Due to a strike, the _Times_ was not published at the time of the storm.)
PLYMOUTH— _Western Evening Herald, Western Morning News._
OTHER BRITISH—Camberly _Star_ , Falmouth _Packet_ , Isle of Wight _County Press_ , Windsor _Advertiser._
UNITED STATES— _Boston Globe, New York Times, Washington Post._
AUSTRALIA— _Australasian Express, Sydney Morning Herald._
**Magazines**
BRITAIN—Devonport _News, Navy News_ , Royal Naval Sailing Association _Journal, The Lifeboat, Seahorse, Yachting Monthly, Yachting World, Yachts and Yachting._
UNITED STATES— _Latitude 38, Motor Boating & Sailing, Sail, Sea, Sports Illustrated, The Telltale Compass, Yachting._
CANADA— _Pacific Yachting._
**Index**
_Acadia_ , 139, 157
_Accanito_ , 17, 226
Admiral's Cup, 24, 34–35, 71, 110, 189, 242, 244, 247
competition in boat design for, 77–80
Ahern, John, 227
_Airel_ , 116, 232
air-sea rescue helicopters, _see_ helicopters, air-sea rescue
_Alidia_ , 122
_Allamanda_ , 200–201
Allen, Dave, 110
_Alliance_ , 222
_Alvena_ , 196, 200
America's Cup, 46, 227–28
Ames, Ben, 141–42
Ames, Henry, 116
Ames, Richard, 116
Ames, Robert, 116
anemometers, range of, 138
_Angelsey_ , HMS, 18, 117, 179, 189, 255
_Animal_ , 201
_Ariadne_ , 203–16, 236, 253, 256–59, 266
crew members of, 207–8
design of, 206
racing preparations of, 206–7
sails of, 209–11
_Aries_ , 117, 146, 147, 244, 260
_Arkadina_ , 71
_Association_ , HMS, 171
_Atlantic_ , 263
Atlantic Ocean, North, 116
Australian races, 76, 232
Axthelm, Pete, 230–31
_Azenora II_ , 20
Azores high, 41, 48, 49
Aztec Indians, flood myth of, 169
Baldwin, Paul, 119
barometers, in postrace inquiry, 260
Bartlett, Alan, 122–33, 255
Beaufort Air Sea Equipment Company, 225
Beaufort scale, 40–41, 44–45
_see also_ force
Belloc, Hilaire, 165
Bermuda race, 68, 76, 220, 232, 238
_Big Shadow_ , 186
_Billy Bones_ , 71
Bishop's Rock lighthouse, 162, 170, 178, 179, 222
blooper (big boy), 82
Bodman, Philip, 117
_Bonaventure II_ , 117, 179
_Boomerang_ , 150–51, 157
booms, 90, 102, 116
_Boston Sunday Globe_ , 227
Boudet, 71
Boutle, A. J., 71
Bouzaid, Chris, 154, 156
Bowker, Peter, 147
Bowyer, Robin, 125, 127, 132
Bradbeer, Jonathan, 247
breakers, formation of, 159
Brewster, Kingman, 207
Bristol Channel, 52, 140
_Britannia_ , 69, 176
British Broadcasting Corporation shipping
bulletin, 40–41, 44, 45, 49–52, 56, 67, 88, 89, 100, 210
_British Weather Disasters_ (Holford), 140
broaching, defined, 153
_Broadsword_ , HMS, 186, 188, 189
Brown, Russell, 118
Bruce, Erroll, 56
Bruce, Peter, 138
Buckley, Tom, 177
_Bucks Fizz_ , 192–93
Burnham, Malin, 139
Burrow, Bill, 178
Byron, George Gordon, Lord, 226
_Callirhoe III_ , 192
_Camargue_ , 20–21, 201
Cambodian refugees, 172
Campbell, Joseph, 169
Camper and Nicholsons, 31, 33, 196
Cape Horn, 109, 153
capsizes:
of _Alvena_ life raft, 196
of _Ariadne_ , 211–12
of _Ariadne_ life raft, 214
of _Camargue_ , 20–21
causes of, 153
of _Cavale_ , 117–18
of _Charioteer_ , 200
of _Grimalkin_ , 19–20, 58–59, 60
of _Gunslinger_ , 119–22
in _Hamrah_ tragedy, 116
of _Magic_ , 20
number of, in postrace inquiry, 153
in postrace inquiry, 260–61, 262
of _Trophy_ , 125–26, 192
of _Trophy_ life raft, 127–29
of _Windswept_ , 113–14
carbon fiber, in rudder construction, 226–27
_Carina_ , 76, 116–17
Carter, Dick, 206
Catherineau, Alain, 197–200, 259
_Cavale_ , 117–18
Channel Islands, 208
_Charioteer_ , 200
_Charleston_ , 266
Chatterton, David, 196
Cheek, Dale, 97
Churchill, Sir Winston, 173
Clear Island, 104
Clothier, John, 243, 247, 253
Coast Guard, U.S., 46
Coldrey, J., 200
Coles, K. Adlard, 76
Collins, Joseph, 244
Collins, Wilkie, 141
_Colossus_ , 171
_Condor of Bermuda_ , 20, 109, 266
Conner, Dennis, 231
Coote, John, 76, 80, 87–91, 100–104, 220, 223, 232
Coriolis effect, 47, 48
Coumentaros, George, 150
_Courageous_ , 228
Coveney, Hugh, 24
Cowes, 67
Cowes Week race series, 69–71, 90, 122, 140, 208, 220
Cox, Bill, 207
Creagh-Osborne, Richard, 56
crew members:
experience of, in postrace inquiry, 261–62
friends as, 111
inexperience of, as cause of deaths, 227, 236, 238
Crisp, David, 208–9, 210–15, 258
"Cruise of the _Tomtit_ , The" (Collins), 141
Culdrose Naval Air Station, 18, 19, 20, 21, 25, 59, 133, 188, 225
currents, 170
Low Y in creation of, 160, 165
seiches, 160
wave size and, 158–59
Darling, Grace, 173
_Dasher_ , 193–96
Day, Thomas Fleming, 116
deaths, 24, 117–33
on _Airel_ (1977), 116
on _Ariadne_ , 212, 214–16, 256–59
"bad boat" explanation of, 226–27, 232–36
boat abandonment as cause of, 237–38
on _Bucks Fizz_ , 193
causes of, 225–27, 232–39
of David Sheahan, 58, 59
of Dorey, 117–18
in Fastnet race (1931), 75, 115, 163
in Fastnet race (1977), 75
in first transatlantic race (1866), 116
on _Grimalkin_ , 20, 25, 58, 59, 602–64, 253–55, 259
in _Hamrah_ tragedy, 116
inexperienced crews as cause of, 227, 236, 238
postrace reactions to, 224–50
on _Schiller_ , 170
in Southern Ocean Racing Conference series, 115–16
on _Trophy_ , 129, 132, 133
Turner on, 228, 230–31
of Winks, 60–64
depressions, 44, 46–56
dangerous quadrant of, 48, 56
defined, 41
force 10, of 1936, 141–43
of mid-August 1970, 143
rough seas created by, 159–60
shallow vs. deep, 47, 48
speed of, 48
_see also_ Low Y
_Desperado_ , 263–66
Dorey, Peter, 117–18
Doyle, Mike, 33–34, 57, 58–59, 254
drogues (sea anchors), as storm tactic, 112, 114, 127, 129, 163
Duncan, Roy, 178
_Eclipse_ , 110, 111, 138, 151, 247
Eddystone Light, 86
_Elizabeth Ann_ , 182–86
Elizabeth II, Queen, 176, 250
Ellis, John, 156–57
_Elseli IV_ , 75–76
English Channel, 67, 80, 86, 230
European Continental Shelf, 163
Everson, Peter, 126–29
Fame Islands, 173
Fastnet race:
as biennial, 143
as component of Admiral's Cup, 24, 189
increase in fleet of, 30
as international standard of racing, 68
in 1925, 31, 68, 74
in 1931, 75, 115, 163
in 1955, 76
in 1957, 75–76, 232
in 1973, 34
in 1975, 34
in 1977, 34, 75
testing of boat for, 208
Fastnet race (1979):
average boat weight in, 139
Classes in, 31, 40, 261, 273n
course description of, 31, 32
entrants by nationality in, 71
entry requirements for, 71–74
finishers of, 109, 147, 220–24, 227, 228–31, 242, 273
first postrace reactions to, 224–50
length of, 18, 31
number of boats in, 31, 71, 110, 188
postrace inquiry on, 153, 259–63
RORC safety requirements for, 34, 35, 74, 82, 151
start of, 31, 40, 47, 67, 71
summary of finishes, abandonments and sinkings in, 273
winner of, 109, 147, 228
Fastnet Rock, 17, 31, 40, 52, 56, 89, 104, 110, 146, 242
distress area in relation to, 157, 162
fathom, length of, 163 "feel," defined, 83
Ferris, Frank "Hal," 206–16, 256, 258
_Festina Tertia_ , 24, 118–19, 182
fetch, defined, 158
_Field_ magazine, 74–75
Fischer, Syd, 247
Fisher, Bob, 258
_Flashlight_ , 118
_Fleetwing_ , 116, 232
Fleming, Simon, 124, 125–33, 255
flood myths, 169
Flowers, Mike, 122
_Flutter_ , 138, 157
fog, 41
causes of, 86
force (Beaufort scale), 40–41
3 ("Gentle Breeze"), 80
4 ("Moderate Breeze"), 40, 41, 44, 88
5 ("Fresh Breeze"), 40, 41, 44, 88
6 ("Strong Breeze"), 44, 88, 89, 160
7 ("Moderate Gale"), 40, 41, 44, 45, 88, 225
8 ("Fresh Gale"), 40, 41, 44, 45, 49–52, 89, 140, 210, 226
9 ("Strong Gale"), 52, 75, 82, 100, 163, 210, 220
10 ("Whole Gale" or "Storm"), 44–45, 52, 100, 141–43, 163, 165, 210, 228, 247
12 ("Hurricane"), 138, 156, 165
Ford, Alan, 112, 114
Forester, C. S., 236
Frers, German, Jr., 139
gales:
in Bermuda race (1972), 220, 232, 238
etymology of, 141
_Pilot_ on, 140–41
_see also_ force; winds
Gibson family, 171–72
Gilders, Rob, 208, 209, 211–16, 258
Gill, Crispin, 141
_Golden Apple of the Sun_ , 21–25, 186, 188
_Good Morning, America_ (ABC TV show), 228
_Go with Noakes_ (BBC TV show), 170
Graham, Neil, 197
Grand Prix skippers, 77–80
Great Lakes, 160
Green, Alan, 243, 244–47
Gribble, Wilf, 21
_Griffin_ , 196–99, 200, 259, 262
_Grimalkin_ , 19–64, 133, 157, 253–55, 266
crew members and assignments of, 33–34, 35–40
design of, 31, 162, 261
preparation of, 31–36
Grinney, Smiler, 25
groundswell, 41, 44, 87, 159
_Gunslinger_ , 119–22, 236
Guy, Roy, 178
_Guy and Claire Hunter_ , 172, 174, 176, 178–82, 186
Hall, Bob, 193–96
_Hamburg_ , 141–43, 146
Hamilton, Sir William, 171
_Hamrah_ , 116, 232
Hardy, Jim, 226
Harrison, Peter, 25, 255
Hartmann, David, 228
Heath, Edward, 69, 140, 239–43, 247
_Heavy Weather Sailing_ (Coles), 76
helicopters, air-sea rescue, 18–25, 59, 64, 138, 157, 274
_Hestrul II_ , 200
Higham, Tony, 143
Hill, Rodney, 124
Hillary, Sir William, 173
Holford, Ingrid, 46, 140
Holland, Ron, 24, 31
_Hollandia_ , 171
Holman and Pye, 122
Honolulu race, 68
Hood, Ted, 227
Hudson, C. H., Colonel, 75, 115, 163
Hughes, Richard, 236
Hunt, Dr. and Mrs., 256
Hunt, Matthew, 207–8, 210–16, 256–58
hypothermia, defined, 56
_Imp_ , 110, 151, 188, 244
_Impetuous_ , 188
injuries:
of Burnham, 139
of Coldrey, 200
in Cowes Week race series, 69–71
of David Sheahan, 58
on _Gunslinger_ , 121–22
of Heath, 242
of Kilroy, 109
of Le Fevre, 211–15
on _Mosika Alma_ , 117
of Thrower, 118–19
of Tinley, 113–14
on _Veronier II_ , 118
of Ward, 57–64
of Warren, 114
of Winks, 58–60
_Innovation_ , 140
Institute of Oceanographic Sciences, 262
insurance companies, 200, 201
International Offshore Rule rating, 71, 273n
_Intrepid_ , 46
Isle of Wight, 31, 40, 69, 143
_Isle of Wight County Press_ , 69
Isles of Scilly, 20, 21, 31, 109, 162, 170–72, 174–78, 222
shipwrecks in, 170, 171–72
_Isles of Scilly, The_ (Gill), 141
jackwires, 98
Jagerson, Sherry, 76, 96, 104
James, Rob, 109
_Jan Pott_ , 139
jibs, 82, 98–99, 110, 111, 147, 209, 210–11, 221
Jenkins, Brian, 180
Jobson, Gary, 147
Johnson, Peter, 140
Johnstone, Mary, 46–47
J-30, 162
_Kate_ , 156–57
_Kialoa_ , 71, 108–9, 139
Kilponen, Dave, 146
Kilroy, John, 71, 108–9
Kinloss air base, 18
Knights, Jack, 243
Kuralt, Charles, 170
Labadie Bank, 162–65, 262
Land's End, 31, 41, 52, 86, 170, 188
distress area in relation to, 157, 162
Land's End Coastguard station, 17, 19–20, 45, 221, 275
Laslett, Graham, 117
Le Fevre, Bill, 208, 209, 211–15, 259
Lethbridge, Harry, 176, 178
Lethbridge, James, 176
Lethbridge, Matthew, 174–86
Lethbridge, Pat, 176
Lethbridge, Richard, 176, 178, 179
lifeboats:
Arun-type, 182–86
of RNLI, 172, 174, 176, 178–82, 186, 275
lifelines, 99
Lizard, the, 80, 86
Lloyd, Bob, 119
Lloyd's Shipping, 200
_Locarec_ , 201
London _Daily Mail_ , 226, 236, 256
London _Daily Mirror_ , 226
London _Daily Telegraph_ , 160, 243, 250
London _Guardian_ , 225–26, 258
London _Lloyd's List_ , 242
London _Sunday Telegraph_ , 255
London _Times_ , 143
Long Island Sound, 34
Loomis, Alfred F., 68, 90
_Loreleï_ , 197–200, 259, 262
_Los Angeles Times_ , 224
Loutherbourg, Philip James de, 143
Low X, 49–52
Low Y, 47–63, 67–68, 116–33, 138–40, 143–65
_Ariadne_ in, 209–14
other storms compared to, 220, 231–32
path of, 50–51
shape of, 157, 160
_Toscana_ in, 93–104, 146, 238
_Trophy_ in, 122–33
trough of, 160, 162
_Windswept_ in, 111–15
Luard, W. B., 163–65
Lundy, 49–52
lying a-hull, as storm tactic, 111, 112, 140, 153, 162, 262
McBride, Francie, 80, 87, 90, 223, 224
McGarry, Gerry, 151
Maclean, J. K. C., Major, 138–39, 157
McLoughlin, Tom, 226
_Magic_ , 17, 20, 177, 179, 200
mainsails, 82–83, 101–2, 108–9, 110, 151
reefs in, 101
_Maitenes II_ , 75, 163–65
_Maligawa III_ , 193–96, 200
Maltby, John, 225
Mann, Richard, 125
_Marionette_ , 221
Marks, Larry, 140
_Massingy_ , 200
Mattingly, Jim, 147
_Mickey Mouse_ , 114
Millar, C. W., 253, 254, 255
Mini Transat (1977), 263
_Moonstone_ , 196
Morecomb, Erie, 255
Moreton, Brigid, 192
Moreton, John, 192
Morland, Derek, 126–27
_Morning Cloud_ , 69, 140, 222, 242
_Morningtown_ , 58, 124–29, 256
_Mosika Alma_ , 117
Moss, Arthur, 21
_Motor Boating & Sailing_, 230
_Mythic Image, The_ (Campbell), 169
_Nanna_ , 214–16, 256
National Institution for the Preservation of Life from Shipwreck, 173
National Weather Service, U.S., 47
Nautor, 77
Needles, 40, 80
Neuberth, Jeff, 150
_Newsweek_ magazine, 230–31
_New York Times_ , 224, 228, 231, 244, 266
Nicholls, John, 143
Nimrods, 18, 20, 117, 129, 188, 189, 274
Noakes, John, 170
North, Lowell, 227–28
North American Junior Sailing Championship (1933–1934), 207
North American Match-Racing Championship (1974), 207
North Sea Race (1979), 124, 208
Noyes, Nick, 80, 87, 90–91, 97–103, 223
Noyes, Susan, 76, 80, 87, 90–91, 97–103, 223
Nye, Richard S., 76
_Oceanography and Seamanship_ (Van Dorn), 159
Offshore One-Design-34
Class, 111, 196
oil spills, 170–71
_Overijssel_ , 18, 133, 150, 186, 189–92, 247
Parfet, Doug, 98–99
Parr, Donald, 247
Partridge, Eric, 141
Pattison, Rodney, 21
_Pegasus_ , 45, 180
Pendred, Richard, 192
_Pepsi_ , 188
Peterson, Doug, 111
Philip, Prince, 250
_Pinta_ , 188
_Pirola_ , 200–201
Plym, Gustav, 75–76
_Polar Bear_ , 192, 200–201, 243, 247
_Police Car_ , 153–54, 157, 262
Pooping, 156
defined, 153
Puxley, John, 126–29
_Quailo_ , 247
Quarrie, Stuart, 197, 199
racing, _see_ yacht racing
radio direction finders, 87
_Ragamuffin_ , 247
Rannou, Thierry, 198, 199
Rashomon Premise, 146
Red Cross, 173
reefs, 82–83, 98, 101–2
_Regardless_ , 17, 24
rescue operations, 17–25, 117, 177–201, 262
for _Ariadne_ , 214–16
boat positions estimated in, 157
coastguard report on, 157
commercial vessels in, 187–88, 214–16
communications problems in, 188–89
in Cowes Week race series, 69–71
for _Grimalkin_ , 19–25, 59, 64, 133
helicopters vs. vessels in, 186
map of, 184
by race crews, 123–25, 192, 193–200
of RNLI, 174, 177–86
summary of services, 274–75
for _Temeraire_ , 143
waves as obstructions in, 138
Retarrier Ledges, 170
Richard, Earl of Cornwall, 141
RNLI, _see_ Royal National Life-boat Institution
Robie, Bud, 207
Robie, Robert, 207, 208, 209, 212, 258, 259
Robie, Ted, 207
Roe, Nicholas, 255
Rogers, Jeremy, 111
rogue waves, 159
RORC, _see_ Royal Ocean Racing Club
Round Island, 180, 182
Round Island lighthouse, 170, 177, 179
Rousmaniere, John:
background of, 68–69
in Cowes Week race series, 69–71
in Fastnet race (1979), 69, 76, 80, 83, 86–91, 96–104, 146, 157, 220–24
postrace reaction of, 224–25, 238–39
racing experience of, 76, 220
Rousmaniere, John (ancestor), 68
Rousmaniere, Lewis, 68
Rousmaniere, William, 68
Royal National Life-boat Institution (RNLI), 172–86, 250, 259, 275
founding of, 172
policies of, 173, 178
Royal Ocean Racing Club (RORC), 71, 75, 122, 196, 243–47, 250
criticism of, 225, 243, 245, 247
escort vessel of, _see Morningtown_
postrace inquiry of, 153, 259–63
primary purpose of, 208
race entry list of, 188
safety requirements of, 34–35, 74, 82, 151, 243
Royal Western Yacht Club, 243
Royal Yachting Association, 153, 259–63
Royal Yacht Squadron, 31, 40, 71
Ruch, John, 80, 87, 90–91, 96, 98–103, 221, 223
rudders, of carbon fiber, 226–27
Runnelstone buoy, 86
safety equipment, RORC required, 34–35, 74, 82, 151, 243
_Sailing Alone Around the World_ (Slocum), 236
sails, 80
of _Kialoa_ , 108–9
of _Tenacious_ , 147
of _Toscana_ , 80–86, 97–99, 101–2, 151–53, 221, 222, 223
St. George's Channel, 140
St. Mary's Island, 171–72, 180
St. Mary's lighthouse, 170
salt water, weight of, 139
salvagers, 178, 200–201, 254
in Isles of Scilly, 171
rights of, 24, 200
_Schiller_ , 170
Scripps Institute of Oceanography, 158–59
sea:
British view of, 169–70
as symbol, 169
_see also_ waves
Sea King-type helicopters, 20, 25, 59, 133, 274
search and rescue operations, _see_ rescue
operations seiches, 160
Seven Stones rocks, 170
Seymour, Thomas, 171
Sheahan, David, 30–45, 56–59, 60, 67, 254, 259
Sheahan, Matthew, 34, 57–59, 254
Sheahan, Mrs., 253
sheets, 83, 98
shipwrecks:
nineteenth-century, 170
salvaging of, 24, 171, 178, 200–201
Shires, Greg, 147
shoal water, 159, 162–63
_Silver Apple of the Moon_ , 188, 221
sinks, 47, 48
_Siska_ , 151
Sleightholme, Des, 225–26
Slocum, Joshua, 236
_Smackwater Jack_ , 266
Smidt, Bert, 200–201
Smith, Russell, 125, 127, 129
Solent, 40, 71, 80
_Sorcery_ , 102
Southern Ocean Racing Conference series (1979), 115–16
Southern Rescue Co-ordination Centre (SRCC), 17–25, 188, 275
Spanish Armada, 140, 230
Sparkman and Stephens, 77, 197
spinnakers, 82, 83, 109
stanchions, 99
staysails, 82, 83, 98, 151
Stephens, Olin, 150
Stevenson, Charles, 118
storm sails, 110, 151, 210–11
storm tactics, 165, 262
drogues as, 112, 114, 127, 129, 163
lying a-hull as, 111, 112, 140, 153, 162, 262
oil to flatten waves as, 163
Swan, 47, 77
Swenson, Eric, 69, 76, 80, 86–88, 97–100, 104, 146, 220–24, 232
Swerdlow, Michael, 260
_Sydney Morning Herald_ , 151
_Tarantula_ , 19
Tasker, Rolly, 151
_Temeraire_ , 143
_Tenacious_ , 146–50, 157
race finished by, 227, 228–31
Terry, Rodney, 178
Thrower, Sean, 118–19
Tinley, George, 111–15, 116, 138
_Torrey Canyon_ , 170, 176
_Toscana_ , 65–69, 76–104, 109–10, 138, 157, 162, 197, 262
battle scene of, 93–104, 146, 238
crew members of, 76, 80, 97
design of, 76–77, 80, 150, 261
race finished by, 220–24, 242
racing tradition represented by, 77–80
sails of, 80–86, 97–99, 101–2, 151–53, 221, 222, 223
_Tenacious_ compared to, 146–50
use of wind measured in, 83–86
transatlantic races, 68, 116
first (1866), 116
Trescoe Channel, 182
Trescoe Island, 172, 178
_Trophy_ , 59, 122–33, 157, 225, 236, 253, 255, 266
hull reinforcement of, 122, 123
rescue operation attempted by, 123–25, 192
trysails, 82, 151
Turner, J. M. W., 143
Turner, Ted, 146, 227–31, 238, 239
Turtle, John, 263–66
United Press International, 228
Valentia Island, 89
Valhalla Maritime Museum, 172
Van Dorn, William G., 159
_Veronier II_ , 118
_Victride_ , 179–80
violence, Axthelm on, 231
Wallace, Bill, 162
Ward, Mrs., 253–54
Ward, Nick, 34, 35, 36, 56–64, 253–55
Ward, Simon, 253
Ward, Stanley, 253, 255
Warren, Charles, 112, 114
Watts, Roger, 118
waves, 179
Bouzaid on shape of, 156
breakers, 159
capsizes caused by, 153
Ellis on shape of, 156
factors determining size and shape of, 45, 158–59, 262
loops of line in breaking of, 114
Maclean on, 138–39
oil in flattening of, 163
rogue, 159
shape of, as danger, 138–40, 143, 158–59
weather, 34, 40–56, 74, 138–65
Azores high, 41, 48, 49
BBC broadcasting of, 40–41, 44, 45, 49–52, 56, 67, 88, 89, 100, 210
causes of, 47
Coriolis effect, 47, 48
for Fastnet race (1957), 75–76
fog, 41, 86
French forecasts of, 44–45
groundswell and, 41, 44, 87, 159
inconsistencies in, 157–58
in Isles of Scilly, 170
Worth on, 74–75
_see also_ depressions; force; Low Y;
winds Webster, Peter, 189–92
Wells, Pat, 124, 127
Wessex helicopters, 20–25, 274
West, Toby, 186
_West Coasts of England and Wales Pilot_ (sea handbook), 140–41
Western Approaches, 31, 41, 45, 49, 56, 87, 170
distress area in, 157, 162
handbook for, 140–41
Labadie Bank in, 162–65, 262
rescue operations in (1970), 143
rescue operations in (1979), 17–25, 59, 64, 117, 133, 178–201
water depth in, 163
_Western Morning News_ , 201
Wheeler, Dave, 34, 58–59, 254
_Where the Tides Meet_ (Luard), 163–65
Whiting, Paul, 266
_Wild Goose_ , 17
Williabey, G. J., 118
_Williwaw_ , 139, 231, 244
winds, 138–39, 231–32
atmospheric conditions and, 47
Beaufort scale and, 40–41, 44–45
currents created by, 160
in "dangerous quadrant," 48
at dawn, 87
direction of, as parallel to gradient lines, 160
strong, classic rig for, 147
waves affected by, 158, 159, 160, 165
_see also_ force; gale
_Windswept_ , 110–15, 157, 162
crew members of, 111
Winks, Gerry, 33, 35–36, 56, 58–64, 253
Winks, Margaret, 36–40, 60, 254
Wolf Rock lighthouse, 170
Woods, Stuart, 76
World Ocean Racing Championship, 108
Worth, Claud, 74–75
_Yacht and Sea_ (Plym), 75–76
_Yachting_ , 141–42, 150, 154
Yachting Journalist's Association, British, 259
_Yachting Monthly_ , 226, 259
_Yachting World_ , 115
yacht racing:
early, 74, 77, 116
lure of, 30–31, 67
ocean, record of fatalities in, 115–16
rules and requirements of, 45, 74, 80, 147
semiprofessionalism in, 77
technological revolution in, 30–31, 80
as WASP preserve, 68
Yacht Racing Union, U.S., 244
_Yachtsman's Weather Guide, The_ , Holford, 46
## Praise for _Fastnet, Force 10_
"Other books have portrayed the awesome power of the sea, but _Fastnet, Force 10_ conveys its most frightening aspect: the impersonal ferocity, heedless of your curses or prayers, and, as you tire, its tirelessness."
—Carleton Mitchell, sailing writer and three-time Bermuda Race winner
"A gripping book of hair-raising, sometimes heartbreaking anecdote and cool analysis."
— _New York Times Book Review_
"A narrative worthy of the best sea literature."
— _Los Angeles Times_
## Copyright
A satellite photograph of the eastern North Atlantic Ocean, taken on August 13, 1979. _U.S. National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration._ Fastnet Rock, Tuesday, August 14. _Irish Times._
THE TEXT of this book is composed in photocomposition Caledonia, with display type set in Eurostile. Composition and manufacturing are by the Maple Vail Book Manufacturing Group. Maps by Peter Milne. Drawings by Richard Everitt. Book design by Majorie J. Flock.
Copyright © 2000, 1980 by John Rousmaniere. _All rights reserved._
First published as a Norton paperback 1993; reissued with new introduction 2000
Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data
Rousmaniere, John
"Fastnet, Force 10."
Bibliography: p.
Includes index.
1. Fastnet Yacht Race. I. Title.
GV832.R68 1980 797.1'4 80-12760
ISBN 978-0-393-34032-7 (e-book)
W. W. Norton & Company, Inc.
500 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10110
www.wwnorton.com
W. W. Norton & Company Ltd.
Castle House, 75/76 Wells Street, London WIT 3QT
| {
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} | 4,716 |
Megazosteria är ett släkte av kackerlackor. Megazosteria ingår i familjen storkackerlackor.
Kladogram enligt Catalogue of Life:
Källor
Externa länkar
Storkackerlackor
Megazosteria | {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaWikipedia"
} | 2,794 |
Egg-spot pattern and body size asymmetries influence male aggression in haplochromine cichlid fishes
Theis, Anya and Bosia, Tania and Roth, Tobias and Salzburger, Walter and Egger, Bernd. (2015) Egg-spot pattern and body size asymmetries influence male aggression in haplochromine cichlid fishes. Behavioral ecology, 26 (6). pp. 1512-1519.
Official URL: http://edoc.unibas.ch/41855/
Assessing an opponent's strength is an important component of attack strategies in territorial combats between males. Body size is often considered to directly influence an individual's strength, but other honest visual signals may also affect the assessment of opponents. Among such visual signals are the so-called egg-spots, a conspicuous ovoid marking on the anal fin of male haplochromine cichlid fishes, made up of carotenoid-containing and other pigment cells. It has long been assumed that egg-spots are mainly relevant in courtship and spawning behavior, and previous work has focused primarily on their function in intersexual selection. Recently, however, both body size and egg-spots have been suggested to play a role in male–male interactions. To test whether egg-spots function in female choice or whether egg-spots and/or body size function as a predictor of strength and the subsequent attack strategy in male–male interactions, we performed a series of behavioral experiments in the haplochromine cichlid Astatotilapia calliptera. The trials revealed a limited involvement of egg-spots in female choice, yet a much stronger influence in male interactions. Territorial males combined information from the strength assessment based on body size and egg-spots to adopt their attack strategies. They launched more attacks against the larger intruder with many egg-spots compared with the smaller intruder without or with fewer egg-spots. Our study provides evidence that egg-spots serve as honest visual signal and that the level of asymmetries in egg-spot pattern and body size determines the relative impact of each trait in strength assessment.
05 Faculty of Science > Departement Umweltwissenschaften > Integrative Biologie > Behavioural Ecology (Amrhein)
05 Faculty of Science > Departement Umweltwissenschaften > Integrative Biologie > Evolutionary Biology (Ebert)
Roth, Tobias and Theis, Anya and Salzburger, Walter and Egger, Bernd
doi: 10.1093/beheco/arv104 | {
"redpajama_set_name": "RedPajamaCommonCrawl"
} | 5,362 |
Phenacopithecus ist eine ausgestorbene Gattung der Primaten, die vor rund 35 Millionen Jahren im späten Eozän im Gebiet der heutigen Volksrepublik China vorkam. Die Gattung wurde erstmals 2004 wissenschaftlich beschrieben. Typusart der Gattung ist Phenacopithecus xueshii.
Namensgebung
Die Bezeichnung der Gattung ist abgeleitet vom griechischen Wort φέναξ pʰénax, "Täuscher" oder "Betrüger" sowie vom gleichfalls griechischen Wort πίθηκος píthēkos, "Affe". Das Epitheton der Typusart, xueshii, ehrt laut Erstbeschreibung Professor Huang Xueshi "in Anerkennung seiner zahlreichen Beiträge zur Erforschung der Säugetiere des frühen Känozoikums in China und seines unermüdlichen Einsatzes für die Rettung der Nanbaotou-Fauna".
Zugleich mit der Typusart wurde auch die zweite Art der Gattung, Phenacopithecus krishtalkai, erstmals wissenschaftlich beschrieben. Das Epitheton dieser Art, krishtalkai, verweist auf Dr. Leonard Krishtalka, der am 11. Mai 1994 das Typusexemplar (und bislang einzig bekannte Fossil diese Art) entdeckte.
Erstbeschreibung
Der Erstbeschreibung von Gattung und Typusart im Jahr 2004 liegt als Holotypus ein einziger, isoliert gefundener Prämolar P4 zugrunde, der aus einem rechten Unterkiefer stammt (Sammlungsnummer IVPP V11998.4; IVPP = Institut für Wirbeltierpaläontologie und Paläoanthropologie der Chinesischen Akademie der Wissenschaften). Als Paratypen wurden diesem Prämolar 15 weitere, ebenfalls isoliert gefundene Zähne und Zahnfragmente zugeordnet, darunter ein Unterkiefer-Milchzahn P4 sowie mehrere Prämolaren (P2, P3, P4) und Molaren (M1, M3) aus Unterkiefern und Oberkiefern, ferner ein rechter Unterkiefer-Eckzahn. Alle Zähne stammen vom Fundort Nanbaotou, und zwar aus der Zhaili-Fundschicht der Heti Formation, Yuanqu Basin, Provinz Shanxi, Volksrepublik China (Koordinaten: 35°08.14′ N, 111°51.80′ E).
Die Abgrenzung der neu eingeführten Gattung gegenüber anderen Gattungen erfolgte anhand von Merkmalen der Zahnoberflächen und insbesondere gegenüber Eosimias, Arsinoea Bahinia und Catopithecus, wobei angemerkt wurde, dass die Individuen von Phenacopithecus ausweislich der Zahngröße vermutlich 160 bis 300 Gramm wogen und somit größer als Eosimias, aber kleiner als Bahinia waren.
Holotypus von Phenacopithecus krishtalkai ist ein Oberkiefer-Fragment mit drei erhaltenen Zähnen (P4, M1 und M2, Sammlungsnummer IVPP V11997). Von der Typusart abgegrenzt wurde Phenacopithecus krishtalkai anhand von Merkmalen der Zahnoberfläche des Molars M1. Fundort war Locality 7, Rencun-Fundschicht der Heti Formation, Yuanqu Basin, Provinz Henan, Volksrepublik China (Koordinaten: 35°03.01′ N, 111°48.82′ E).
Belege
Primaten
Primates
Ausgestorbener Primat | {
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} | 23 |
Stock Up/Stock Down (August 5 - August 12)
Stock Up: the following guys have moved up our rankings over the past week.
Philip Rivers, QB, Chargers
Bringing back WR Malcom Floyd was huge for Rivers. The Chargers were looking at using either Patrick Crayton or rookie Vincent Brown as their #2 WR. Those guys will now battle for the #3 job, while Floyd and Vincent Jackson provide Rivers with a pair of monster targets on the outside. Throw in TE Antonio Gates, and Rivers is once again working with one of the most dangerous groups of pass-catchers in the league.
Matt Stafford, QB, Lions
Stafford looked to be in midseason form in the team's 1st exhibition game on Friday night. Playing 2 series, he finished 6 of 7 for 71 yards with 2 TDs and 0 INTs. If he can stay healthy, Stafford seems like a lock to finish among the top-10 fantasy QBs.
Joe Flacco, QB, Ravens
The addition of WR Lee Evans gives Flacco his 1st legitimate deep threat since he joined the Ravens. He has a solid pair of receivers now in Evans and Boldin. Flacco is back in the discussion as a low-end QB1.
Andy Dalton, QB, Bengals
The starting job is his to lose. Dalton has been taking most of the 1st-team reps in training camp and got the start in the team's preseason opener. He wasn't a disaster, completing 11 of 15 balls for 69 yards with 0 TDs and 1 INT.
Rex Grossman, QB, Redskins
With QB John Beck sitting out with a sore groin, Grossman played the entire 1st half of Washington's preseason opener. He was efficient, completing 19 of 26 balls for 207 yards and a score. While the Redskins' coaching staff has praised Beck all offseason, this performance by Grossman has to put him right in the mix for the starting job.
Ray Rice, RB, Ravens
OC Cam Cameron revealed that RB Ray Rice will "play a major role in short-yardage and goal-line [situations] this year." Rice gave way to RB Willis McGahee in the red zone last season, and it was widely-believed that RB Ricky Williams would handle most of the goal line carries this year. But if the Ravens make good on Cameron's statement, Rice could easily double last year's 5-TD output.
Jahvid Best, RB, Lions
Best is the big winner of the past week. RB Mikel Leshoure's season-ending Achilles injury makes Best Detroit's clear-cut lead back. The team brought in free-agent RBs Jerome Harrison and Mike Bell for depth, but this is Best's backfield. We now have him projected to see a little over 15 touches per game.
Felix Jones, RB, Cowboys
The Cowboys' coaching staff seems confident in Jones' ability to take on a bigger workload this year after the departure of RB Marion Barber. "I think he's gotten physically stronger in the couple of years he's been in the NFL," HC Jason Garrett said of Felix. "He's shown he can be more durable and I think he's just ready to take the next step as a player." Jones registered a career-high 233 touches last year and could see even more in 2011.
Reggie Bush, RB, Dolphins
Bush was listed as the 1st-string RB on the Dolphins' preliminary depth chart. We're thinking that it's just a case of seniority and that rookie Daniel Thomas will still lead this backfield in touches. But it's becoming clear that Bush will have a bigger offensive role in Miami than he did in New Orleans.
Tim Hightower, RB, Cardinals
Multiple Redskins insiders have dubbed Hightower the favorite to start Week 1. He came out in the team's preseason opener and rushed 10 times for 44 yards. This still figures to be a committee attack -- with both Ryan Torain and Roy Helu involved -- but Hightower looks like the Redskins back to own in fantasy.
Brandon Jackson, RB, Browns
With RB Montario Hardesty continuing to struggle with knee problems, Jackson has emerged as the favorite to open the season as Cleveland's #2 back. He's unlikely to see many carries but could play a significant role on 3rd-downs.
Jerome Harrison, RB, Lions
We're surprised it took Harrison – and his career 4.8 yards-per-carry average – so long to find a job. Landing in Detroit isn't ideal, but there's still upside here. We're expecting Harrison to beat out Maurice Morris and Mike Bell for the team's #2 RB job. He'll likely see a handful of touches per game behind Jahvid Best. But Best has struggled big-time with durability over his last couple seasons, so Harrison is a decent bet to get a few starts at some point this season.
Maurice Morris, RB, Lions
Morris got a big bump up our rankings after Leshoure went down. But then he slid back down when the Lions added Jerome Harrison and Mike Bell to the backfield. We're expecting Morris to slot in as the #3 back behind Best and Harrison, but he could see some goal line work as the biggest back of the trio. Still, he won't be a fantasy option without an injury to one of the guys ahead of him on the depth chart.
Stevan Ridley, RB, Patriots
The rookie was a stud in his NFL debut, rushing for 64 yards and 2 scores on 16 carries. He added 7 catches for 74 yards and another TD. RBs BenJarvus Green-Ellis and Shane Vereen were both inactive, but Ridley certainly looks ready to make an impact this year. New England's backfield is one messy picture.
Derrick Ward, RB, Texans
With Ben Tate missing camp time with a bum hammy, Ward has tightened his grip on Houston's backup RB job. At this point, consider him Arian Foster's handcuff.
Mario Manningham, WR, Giants
We've been sky-high on Manningham for awhile now, so he only got a slight bump up our rankings with WR Steve Smith's move to Philadelphia. It's still good news for Manningham, though, as he's now locked-in as the #2 option in the Giants' passing attack.
Lee Evans, WR, Ravens
Evans got a big bump up our rankings with his move to Baltimore. He's a nice complement to WR Anquan Boldin, and QB Joe Flacco has the arm to get it to Evans deep. Consider him a boom-or-bust WR3 option.
Devin Hester, WR, Bears
This one was a shocker. Hester has been running with the 1st-team offense in camp, and OC Mike Martz named him the team's starting flanker on Monday. While electric in the open field, Hester still hasn't really developed into an NFL-caliber WR. He caught just 40 of his 73 targets for 475 yards and 4 TDs last year. But with his role seemingly ready to grow in 2011, he's climbing our rankings. Hester still isn't a recommended fantasy starter though.
Emmanuel Sanders, WR, Steelers
The foot problems are becoming worrisome. Sanders had surgery on both feet this offseason and then underwent a follow-up procedure on August 1st. He was originally expected to miss 3 weeks, but his recovery has gone better than expected. The team now believes he'll be back on the field this coming week. If the foot problems are behind him, we still like Sanders to eventually pass Hines Ward for Pittsburgh's #2 WR spot. Plenty of upside here.
Roscoe Parrish, WR, Bills
He should see a nice bump in targets with the departure of WR Lee Evans. Parrish quietly caught 33 balls in 8 games last year and could be a sneaky PPR option this season. He's currently dealing with a bum hammy, though, so we'll be keeping a close eye on him.
Jabar Gaffney, WR, Redskins
Traded to Washington just a couple weeks ago, Gaffney is already running with the 1st-team offense. It looks like he has the early edge on Anthony Armstrong and Leonard Hankerson for the #2 WR spot. Even so, there's not much upside here on an offense piloted by some combination of John Beck and Rex Grossmann.
Terrell Owens, WR, free-agent
ProFootballTalk.com reported on Tuesday that Owens is just a couple weeks away from being completely recovered from this offseason's torn ACL. T.O. underwent surgery about 4 months ago, so we find this one tough to believe. Still, it's looking like he'll at least be ready to get back on the field and potentially make a fantasy impact in the 2nd half of the season.
Jason Avant, WR, Eagles
Avant moved down our rankings and then back up this past week. While he'll likely eventually lose the #3 WR job to recent signee Steve Smith, Avant could open the season in Philly's starting lineup if Jeremy Maclin is still out with that mysterious illness. He's worth a look at the end of your draft.
Victor Cruz, WR, Giants
After a big preseason, Cruz was invisible when the games counted last year. But with WR Steve Smith's departure, Cruz has a legitimate chance to win the team's #3 WR job this season. He'll need to beat out rookie Jerrel Jernigan, but Cruz's experience gives him the early edge. He's looking like an intriguing late-round flier.
Brandon Gibson, WR, Rams
Gibson has been running with the 1st-team offense since training camp started. The Rams' WR depth chart is still fluid, but Gibson is worth monitoring. He's entering his 3rd NFL season and quietly racked up 53 catches for 620 yards last year.
Brandon LaFell and Legedu Naanee, WRs, Panthers
LaFell and Naanee will battle for Carolina's #2 WR spot after David Gettis' season-ending knee injury. LaFell has the early edge based on his tenure with the Panthers, but Naanee might be more talented. Neither guy is a recommended fantasy option in Carolina's sub-par passing game though.
Denarius Moore, WR, Raiders
The rookie has been drawing rave reviews in training camp. Although he's a bit undersized at 6'0 and 194 pounds, Moore can fly. He ran a 4.37 40-time at this year's Combine. We added him to our WR rankings, but he's still unlikely to make a fantasy impact this year. Keep an eye on him keeper and dynasty leagues though.
David Nelson, WR, Bills
Consider Nelson the early favorite to pick up the extra targets left behind by WR Lee Evans. But Brad Smith, Donald Jones, and Marcus Easley are in the mix too. Your best bet is to avoid this situation.
Kevin Boss, TE, Raiders
We like the move to Oakland for Boss. The Raiders' sub-par WR corps will mean more targets for Boss. He's reportedly been impressing early in training camp, and beat writer Steve Corkran believes Boss can double the 30 receptions he averaged in 4 seasons with the Giants. We'd take the under on 60 catches, but Boss is looking like a viable TE2
Travis Beckum, TE, Giants
Beckum is suddenly all alone atop New York's depth chart. Kevin Boss is gone to Oakland, and Ben Patrick announced his retirement just a week after signing with the Giants. It's a golden opportunity for Beckum, who has caught just 21 balls through 2 NFL seasons. He has the size and athleticism to do some damage though. He's an intriguing late-round flier.
Fred Davis, TE, Redskins
The ultra-talented backup may see an increased role this season as Chris Cooley struggles returning from offseason knee surgery. If Cooley misses games, Davis could step in as a legitimate TE1 in fantasy.
Evan Moore, TE, Browns
Moore has reportedly been the star of Browns camp so far. "Moore is big in coach Pat Shurmur's offensive plans," beat writer Tony Grossi says. He's still #2 on Cleveland's depth chart behind Ben Watson, but Moore is a "move" TE. Look for the Browns to get both guys on the field together more often this season. It's still tough to get excited about Moore's upside on this offense though.
Dennis Pitta, TE, Ravens
Don't count him out of the race for Baltimore's starting TE job just yet. TE Ed Dickson is missing time with a hamstring injury. Pitta drew the start in the preseason opener, racking up 47 yards on 4 catches.
Stock Down: the following guys have moved down our rankings over the past week.
Eli Manning, QB, Giants
Manning's weaponry has taken a blow over the past couple weeks. He lost TE Kevin Boss to Oakland, and then WR Steve Smith to Philadelphia. Manning will be fine with Hakeem Nicks and Mario Manningham as the starters, but an injury to either one of those guys could spell trouble.
Ryan Fitzpatrick, QB, Bills
Downgrade the bearded one after the departure of WR Lee Evans. Behind WR Steve Johnson, the Bills will trot out some combination of Roscoe Parrish, David Nelson, Donald Jones, Brad Smith and Marcus Easley. Ouch!
John Beck, QB, Redskins
While Beck sat out the preseason opener with a groin injury, QB Rex Grossman looked good leading the 1st-team offense. The race for Washington's starting job is still wide open.
Bruce Gradkowski, QB, Bengals
Rookie Andy Dalton is getting the majority of the 1st-team reps at camp and drew the start in the team's preseason opener. Gradkowski is looking like a strict backup unless Dalton falls flat on his face.
Mikel Leshoure, RB, Lions
The rookie will miss the entire 2011 season with a torn Achilles. And that's the type of injury that could ruin the rest of his career. It'll be a long road to recovery.
Daniel Thomas, RB, Dolphins
We're not buying the idea that Reggie Bush will be Miami's feature back. But it is becoming clear that he'll have a major role. That puts a dent in Thomas' upside, although we still have him projected for 261 total touches.
Shane Vereen, RB, Patriots
The rookie has missed over a week of camp with a hamstring injury. He has the talent to emerge as New England's lead back between the 20s, but he needs to get back on the field if he wants to make an early-season impact. Fellow rookie RB Stevan Ridley was impressive in New England's 1st preseason game, while Vereen watched from the sidelines.
Montario Hardesty, RB, Browns
Hardesty has yet to participate in team drills at training camp. It's clear that he's still not recovered from last year's knee surgery. Hardesty has an intriguing skill-set -- and the Browns want to get him involved in the offense -- but he just can't seem to get healthy. Look for Brandon Jackson to open the season as Cleveland's #2 RB.
Jason Snelling, RB, Falcons
We were hoping the underrated Snelling would land a bigger role on the free-agent market this offseason. Instead, he ended up returning to Atlanta, where he'll be a clear backup. There's still upside here, but only in the event of an injury to RB Michael Turner.
Tashard Choice, RB, Cowboys
Despite being ultra-productive in his limited opportunities, Choice can't seem to get out of the doghouse in Dallas. The latest report has his roster spot in danger of being taken over by some cat named Lonyae Miller. It's becoming clear that Choice needs to get out of Dallas before he'll get a sizeable offensive role.
Bernard Scott, RB, Bengals
He's missed most of training camp so far with a hamstring injury. We love Scott's skill-set, but durability continues to be a major problem. He'll need a Cedric Benson injury to see significant playing time this year.
Ben Tate, RB, Texans
Tate has been sitting out with a hamstring injury. After missing all of 2010 with a fractured fibula, durability is definitely becoming a concern here. Derrick Ward is strengthening his grasp on the team's backup RB job.
Jacquizz Rodgers, RB, Falcons
The re-signing of RB Jason Snelling makes Atlanta's backfield a crowded situation. The explosive Rodgers should still mix-in for a few touches per game, but that won't be enough for him to be a fantasy factor. He's only worth targeting in keeper and dynasty leagues.
Chris Ivory, RB, Saints
Add sports hernia surgery to Ivory's list of ailments. He underwent surgery a week ago, and now needs to recover from that, in addition to last year's Lisfranc fracture. Ivory could very well start the season on the PUP list. And even if he's healthy, he's just 4th on the Saints' depth chart.
Kendall Hunter, RB, 49ers
Hunter has reportedly been struggling mightily in pass protection. Not surprising considering he goes just 5'7 and 199 pounds. Hunter will need to show major progress if he wants to see the field this season. For now, we'd consider Anthony Dixon the handcuff for Frank Gore owners.
Jeremy Maclin, WR, Eagles
We're officially worried about Maclin. He left training camp on Thursday and returned home to St. Louis to undergo further testing. Maclin has been out with an undisclosed illness and has reportedly looked frail while watching from the sidelines at camp. The team still believes he'll be ready by Week 1, but we're not convinced.
Marques Colston, WR, Saints
We've been telling you for awhile now to stay away from Colston. The fact that he's been held out of practices with swelling in his surgically-repaired knee is just confirmation that he's not worth the gamble. Colston figures to be a regular on New Orleans' injury report this season.
Johnny Knox, WR, Bears
This one still has us scratching our heads. Knox was Chicago's most effective WR last year, but he's been demoted to the 2nd-team early in camp – behind Roy Williams and Devin Hester no less! Once considered a WR2 with upside, Knox can no longer be counted on as a fantasy starter unless the depth chart changes.
Steve Smith, WR, Panthers
Smith suffered a dislocated finger on Tuesday and was expected to miss 7-10 days. He should get back on the field sometime this week. While Smith obviously isn't in danger of losing his starting spot, the missed time still hurts as Carolina installs a new offense with (likely) a new QB.
Steve Smith, WR, Eagles
Smith gets a slight nudge down our rankings with the move to Philadelphia. He joins a more explosive offense, but will have a lot more competition for targets. He won't be seeing the 9 looks per game he averaged with the G-Men. Coming off microfracture surgery -- and a candidate for the PUP -- Smith is still on our Do Not Draft list.
Plaxico Burress, WR, Jets
Burress has missed a good chunk of camp with an ankle injury and won't play in the team's preseason opener. Can't say we're surprised considering he's 34 years old and hasn't played a down of NFL football in 2 years. We'd be surprised if Plax played all 16 games this season.
Greg Little, WR, Browns
Little has reportedly been struggling mightily with drops in camp. Too bad because he's getting a golden opportunity with WR Mohamed Massaquoi sidelined. Little is still a good bet to be in Cleveland's Week 1 starting lineup.
Mohamed Massaquoi, WR, Browns
Speaking of Massaquoi, he's missed the past 2 weeks of training camp with a chip fracture in his left foot. He's expected back at some point this coming week, but he's missed valuable time to get comfortable in HC Pat Shurmur's new offense.
Anthony Armstrong, WR, Redskins
It looks like Armstrong has lost his spot in the starting lineup. Recently-acquired WR Jabar Gaffney has been running with the 1s in camp, while Armstrong joins the fray in 3-WR sets. It makes sense -- the 5'11, 185-pounder's best fit is in the slot.
David Gettis, WR, Panthers
Gettis is done for the year after tearing his ACL in practice on Thursday. He was looking like the favorite for Carolina's #2 WR spot.
Torrey Smith, WR, Ravens
The rookie looked lost in Baltimore's 1st preseason game Thursday night. The Ravens went out and added WR Lee Evans the next day. That pushes Smith back into the more reasonable #3 WR spot. He's now only worth a look at the end of deep fantasy drafts.
Mark Clayton, WR, free-agent
Clayton continues to rehab from last year's torn patellar tendon. He's reportedly still "a ways away" from being ready to get back on the field and seems like a long-shot to make an early-season impact.
Titus Young, WR, Lions
The rookie has missed almost all of camp so far with a hamstring injury. He's no longer a lock to start the season as Detroit's #3 WR, although he'll get there eventually.
Vincent Brown, WR, Chargers
Brown's sleeper appeal took a sizeable hit when the Chargers re-signed WR Malcom Floyd. On top of that, Brown has missed a good chunk of training camp with a quad injury. He's falling behind Patrick Crayton for the #3 WR job and isn't worth a pick in redraft leagues at this point.
Jerricho Cotchery, WR, Steelers
Cotchery heads to Pittsburgh, where he'll likely slot in as the 4th WR behind Mike Wallace, Hines Ward, and Emmanuel Sanders. Antonio Brown could even push Cotchery down to #5 on the depth chart. He'd need an injury or two to be a fantasy factor.
Chris Cooley, TE, Redskins
Uh oh. Cooley underwent arthroscopic knee surgery this offseason, and the knee is still giving him trouble. HC Mike Shanahan admitted that the team is "concerned" with the situation, and Cooley will be held out of training camp for "at least a few weeks." Consider Cooley a risky fantasy pick.
Ed Dickson, TE, Ravens
Dickson has missed the past week of camp with a hamstring injury and sat out the team's preseason opener. Starting in his place, TE Dennis Pitta caught 4 balls for 47 yards. Dickson's grip on the Ravens' starting job is tenuous at best, so he needs to get back on the field. | {
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} | 6,073 |
Thomas Marris Kitwood (* 1937 in Boston; † 1. November 1998 in Bradford) war ein englischer Sozialpsychologe und Gerontologe.
Leben
Als Sohn eines lokalen Geschäftsmanns studierte Kitwood zunächst mit einem Rugby-Stipendium am King's College (Cambridge) und schloss sein Studium 1960 mit einem naturwissenschaftlichen Bachelor ab. Er wandte sich der christlichen Theologie zu, absolvierte eine kirchliche Ausbildung und wurde 1962 zum Priester ordiniert. Im Anschluss nahm er eine Stelle an einer kirchlichen Jungenschule in Lake Victoria in Uganda an. Dort lernte er seine spätere Frau Jenny Cooper, die Tochter eines Missionarsehepaares, kennen. Ein Sohn wurde in Uganda geboren, eine Tochter später in England. Durch den Militärputsch 1971 und die darauffolgende Diktatur Idi Amins sah sich die Familie gezwungen, Uganda zu verlassen und nach Bradford zurückzukehren. Dort verließ Kitwood die kirchliche Laufbahn und nahm ein Studium der Psychologie, Sozial- und Erziehungswissenschaft auf. 1977 promovierte er bei Rom Harré mit dem Thema Values in Adolescent Life. 1979 wurde er Lektor an der Universität Bradford, 1992 ebendort Senior-Lektor für interdisziplinäre Humanwissenschaft. Er begann als Psychotherapeut zu arbeiten und veröffentlichte 1980 das Buch Disclosures to a Stranger: Adolescent Values in an Advanced Industrial Society.
1985 begann sein Interesse an der Verbesserung des Umgangs mit dementen Menschen und die Zusammenarbeit mit Kathleen Bredin, durch die Kitwood Zugang zur humanistischen Position Carl R. Rogers bekam. 1998 wurde er Professor für Demenzpflege und Psychogerontologie an der Bradford Universität. Er hielt Vorträge in den USA und erweiterte den Forschungsbereich der Demenzpflege an der Universität Bradford zu einer eigenen Abteilung mit grundständigen und postgradualen Studienmöglichkeiten.
Werk
Kitwood entwickelte in den Jahren von 1987 bis 1995 als Reaktion auf eine von den Naturwissenschaften und der Medizin geprägte Sozialpsychologie und Pflegekultur eine neue Theorie zum Umgang mit dementen Menschen auf der Basis des Personzentrierten Ansatzes und der Klientenzentrierte Psychotherapie des amerikanischen Psychologen und Psychotherapeuten Carl R. Rogers. Gemeinsam mit Kathleen Bredin entwickelte er Konzepte einer veränderten Demenzpflege und mit dem Dementia Care Mapping entsprechende Methoden ihrer Evaluierung.
Angesichts seiner sowohl privaten als auch professionellen Erfahrungen im Umgang mit demenzkranken Menschen stellte Kitwood dabei das "medizinische Modell" wegen seiner Implikationen und Widersprüche grundsätzlich in Frage. Entsprechend diesem Paradigma stand die neurologische und medizinische Sicht bei der Demenzerkrankung im Vordergrund. Dem Erleben von Menschen mit Demenz wurde kaum Beachtung geschenkt. Auffälliges Verhalten wurde als nicht verstehbarer Ausdruck der Demenz gedeutet. Pflege und Betreuung hatten lediglich einen palliativen Charakter. Diese Sichtweise bot nach Kitwood eine ungünstige Grundlage für die Demenzpflege, die bei den Pflegepersonen leicht Ohnmachts- und Schuldgefühle auslöse ohne ein alternatives Konzept anzubieten.
Dem stellte Kitwood ein neues Paradigma gegenüber, das von der betroffenen Person und ihrem Erleben ausging. In einer neuen "Demenzpflegekultur" sollte die Einzigartigkeit der dementen Person beachtet und gewürdigt werden. Im Zentrum des Konzepts steht die Beziehung von interagierenden Menschen. Der Fokus ist nicht auf die Heilung der Demenzerkrankung ausgerichtet, sondern auf Wohlbefinden und eine gelingende Beziehung. Das Konzept beinhaltet die Auffassung, dass in der Begegnung mit dem demenzkranken Menschen auch die Pflegenden etwas gewinnen und dass nicht nur der Erfolg therapeutischer Bemühungen von Bedeutung ist, sondern dass die aufmerksame Begegnung selbst einen Wert in sich darstellt.
Wie auch in der Klientenzentrierten Psychotherapie sieht Kitwood auch die von Demenz betroffene Person als Expertin für ihr Erleben und richtet seinen Fokus auf den Aspekt der Begegnung nach Martin Buber. Dessen Konzepte von der "Ich-Du-Beziehung" und der "Begegnung" gelten als geistige Heimat von Carl Rogers, weshalb seine Anthropologie auch große Ähnlichkeit mit Bubers Konzept aufweist. Berührungspunkte gibt es hinsichtlich der von Carl Rogers formulierten Grundbedingungen (Echtheit, Wertschätzung und Empathie) für eine hilfreiche Beziehung von Person zu Person. In Bubers Ich-Du-Begegnung sieht auch Kitwood den entscheidenden Ansatzpunkt zum Verständnis des Personseins. Er betont, dass es zum Verständnis der Demenz wichtig sei, das "Personsein im Sinne von Beziehung zu sehen."
Rezeption
Der Ansatz Kitwoods hat neben denen von Naomi Feil, Erwin Böhm und Cora van der Kooij maßgeblich die Pflege und den Umgang mit dementen Menschen verändert und in Deutschland Eingang in die Leitlinien Demenz gefunden. Auch andere in der Betreuung dementer Menschen tätige Berufsgruppen beziehen sich auf den Ansatz Kitwood, so z. B. die Ergotherapie, die Kulturgeragogik, Musikgeragogik, und Musiktherapie,
Viele Wohn- und Pflegeeinrichtungen für Menschen mit Demenz betonen in ihren Hausprospekten, dass sie nach den Konzepten Kitwoods und verwandten Ansätzen arbeiten.
Schriften (Auswahl)
Demenz. Der person-zentrierte Ansatz im Umgang mit verwirrten Menschen 6. Auflage Huber Verlag, Bern 2013 ISBN 978-3-45685-305-5
Disclosures to a Stranger: Adolescent Values in an Advanced Industrial Society, Law Book Co of Australasia 1980 ISBN 0-7100-0463-X
Dementia reconsidered, Open University Press, 1997
Mind that child!, Writers and Readers Publishing Cooperative, 1977
Values in adolescent life, University Microfilms, 1976
Weblinks
Kitwoodmodell und Umsetzung in der Praxis
Artikel Karin Welling in Unterricht Pflege 2004/5
Einzelnachweise
Sozialpsychologe
Gerontologe
Engländer
Brite
Geboren 1937
Gestorben 1998
Mann | {
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} | 1,261 |
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