Writing "Alsoomse and Wanchese" -- Almost Finished

 

I am maybe a month and a half away from publication.

 

I began serious research for this project in early 2013 and began the writing of chapters maybe two years later.  I am two chapters away from finishing my eighth editing read through of the novel’s 40 chapters.  I will do a ninth read through and declare the long process concluded. 

 

My wife, a voracious reader of fiction, recommends it.  I like it, too.

 

I believe that the writing is tight, the characters are real, the conflict is realistic, and the themes are valid.  I believe that I have conveyed the North Carolina 1580s coastal area Algonquian culture accurately.

 

“Alsoomse and Wanchese” is a story of what could have been more than it is what did happen.  In previous posts I have explained why historians know so little about Algonquians of the Pamlico and Albemarle Sounds areas during the late Sixteenth Century.  (If only Native Americans then had been advanced enough culturally to have devised an alphabet and the spelling of words to record their tribal histories and beliefs)  Historians have had to rely on what a handful of Englishmen wrote, not objectively, about their encounters with these “New World savages” to attempt to depict them responsibly.  

 

I did not want to write a novel that plowed the same material that other authors have utilized to tell a Roanoke-related story.  I did not want to feature an English character stranded – whatever the reason – and forced to cope and, perhaps, triumph in a strange land.  I did not want to write a novel the bounded me to the events that English explorers/colonizers reported to Walter Raleigh for publication.  Why repeat with subjective narration and dialogue what historians relate effectively in their works of non-fiction?  I wanted to write about the Algonquian people.  I wanted to portray their universal human frailties and strengths of character in context with what historians do know about their culture.  Imagine the millions of stories that for centuries Native Americans could have told about their loved ones, their enemies, and themselves had they had the facility to write.

 

Anchored by four perceived historical facts, my novel makes you the observer of ten months of the lives of a Roanoke sister and brother, seventeen and twenty, driven by force of character to stretch the boundaries limiting individual inquiry, experiment, and accomplishment that the Algonquian belief system and political/religious governance inflexibly defended.  Additionally, the reader is kept aware throughout most of the novel of the intention of Englishmen to intrude on the lives of these very human, subsistence-level functioning people.  Alsoomse, Wanchese, and their friends and enemies have no awareness of the imminent arrival of these outer-world strangers.  Their appearance would be comparable today, I suspect, to the sudden appearance in America – let’s say in Connecticut, for no special reason -- of outer space aliens of an advanced culture.  The last several chapters of my novel relate how the English explorers and the Algonquian inhabitants interact, each seeking accommodation with the other to advance their own interests.

 

When my novel is published, I will post several scenes on this blog site to stimulate, hopefully, your and other readers’ interest.  Below is an excerpt of my version of the first encounter between the English principals and Algonquian natives.

 

***

They stood before him, six of them. Wanchese’s eyes could not take in at once their individual differences. Altogether, they were strange-appearing. Not of his world. Not anything that he could have imagined. They gave no indication that they intended to harm him.

They were armed. They had swords, inside something covering them, hung from something about their waists. They were long swords, not the length or shape of the wooden swords he and his village’s warriors sometimes used in battle. They had something [petronels] about the length of their forearms, something narrow that pointed. These they had slung across their chests. One of them had a long spear, longer than what he and his friends used to fish. It [the bill] was not made of wood but of something he had also never seen. At the end of it was a point but also two curved cutting pieces and something else that chopped. To defeat a man with this killing spear, a warrior would have to get himself past the cutting and piercing places, grab the center of the spear, and twist it away.

These Tassantassuk carried these weapons, he believed, not for self-protection – he one against six – but to demonstrate their superior montaoc. 

As instructed, Wanchese began his formal speech of welcome. Because he knew they would not understand his language, he used slow, large hand and arm gestures. He pointed toward Roanoke. He pantomimed paddling from that direction. He pointed at his canoe. He pointed at the Great Waters, made waving motions with his opened hands, then pointed at their huge canoes. Using his right hand’s index and middle fingers, he represented himself walking from his canoe to where he stood. With the fingers of his left hand he pantomimed the six Tassantassuk coming to meet him. He touched his heart, figuratively removed it, with his opened hand offered it. With a broad sweep of his opposite hand he indicated the land and water about them.

It was now their turn. The one in the center of the group, the shortest one – too young to be their leader, Wanchese thought – spoke. His eyes flashed. He was not content. Wanchese saw emotion close to anger. Anger because I do not understood his words. The Tassantassuk had a strange protection [a corselet] over his arms, chest, and stomach. It was gray in color. Its surface looked hard. Wanchese imagined the point of an arrow bouncing off it. On his head he wore a strange object [a morion], tall and ugly and hard-looking like what protected his chest.

The others were not so protected. They covered their bodies not with animal skins but other things, things very strange. Even their arms, legs, and feet were covered. One of them, the oldest of them, wore something [a jack] over his chest that did not have the hard surface that the shorter man wore.  The surface looked soft. He could see that sewing had been done. Not like the shorter man, all the others wore something tight and soft [Monmouth cap] over their hair. Coarse hair extended from cheek bones and chins. They and what they wore stank!

The Tassantassuk next to the irritated one, the oldest one, spoke. His facial expressions suggested patience. His gestures communicated. He pointed; his right index finger made a circle about his group. He used his fingers to pantomime all of them, including Wanchese, crossing over the water to one of their canoes.

Wanchese’s face involuntarily tightened.

He thought, If they want to kill him, they would have done it. Do they want me their prisoner, to take me far across the Great Waters to their village?  He had been sent to learn about them! He would have to go with them. He nodded. The Tassantassuk pointed to the smaller of the two canoes. Wanchese nodded a second time.    

 

#

 

They were standing on the quarter deck. Harriot studied the savage. His earlier observations were confirmed.

The savage’s eyes searched, inquired. His face revealed astonishment. This man was a warrior – his scars and broken nose attested that – but he was demonstrably intelligent. How far behind us are these people! Harriot tried to imagine himself trapped in their cultural stagnation.

The man had stared at the oars of the long boat that had transported them to Barlowe’s ship. He had placed an inquisitive hand against the side of the ship before ascending the rope ladder. He had felt the gunwale, looked long at the bitts and cordage. Standing beside it, head tilted backward, he had allowed his eyes to ascend the main mast.

“Doesn’t know much, does he?” Little Amadas sneered.

“None of them do. Depend on it,” Fernandez answered.

“He wants to learn,” Harriot said.

Their looks scorned him, effectively silenced him.

“Bloody hell fire! Not quite exactly, I’d say,” Fernandez said, pretending to be English.

“We are here to make friends.” Barlowe’s eyes stayed on the pilot. “Your expressions say otherwise.”

“I’ll have the bugger know something first!” Amadas approached the savage, who, cat-like, turned to face him. Amadas pointed at the hilt of his sword. “I saw you looking at it. You may see it.” Amadas’s eyebrows lifted.

The savage stared at the hilt, looked briefly at Amadas, nodded.

“He needs to know how the land lies!” Amadas declared.  He drew his blade.

Head lowered, the savage stared. The fingers of his right hand touched the steel. He felt its edges with his thumb and forefinger. He then straightened, looked at Amadas, nodded.

“He takes your meaning,” Barlowe said.

The savage pointed at Amadas’s petronel, slung from the belt that crossed the little man’s chest.

“Rot me!” Amadas exclaimed. “Inquisitive bugger!”

“Give him a demonstration!” Fernandez grinned.

“I wonder at this,” Barlowe said.

“God’s breath, old man! I don’t give a fart in hell! I command here! White! Get a hand to bring up spare fardage! I’ll put a hole in it!”

They waited.

Amadas produced a petronel ball. He held it two feet in front of the savage’s face. He pantomimed inserting the ball in the petronel’s barrel. He took aim at a distant sailor, made an explosive sound, walked the ball the length of the quarterdeck, and thumped the ball against the sailor’s chest.

White reappeared holding the slat of wood.

“Have that man prop it against the capstan! Tell him to stand afar!”

The petronel already primed, the match lit, Amadas aimed, its butt against his chest close to his right shoulder. “Not very accurate but meant to kill charging cavalry,” he said. Harriot was amused that Amadas felt the need to explain, using words the recipient could not understand.

The savage leaned toward the petronel. The explosion and profuse smoke sent him staggering backward. Nearly squatting, he arrested his fall. Instantly, he sprung upright, muscles strained, eyes enlarged, face taut.

“Come with me!” Amadas ordered. He motioned toward the section of fardage. They walked to it, examined the hole made by the ball.

“No farting about, that Amadas!”

Your soul to the devil, Fernandez, Harriot thought. If we are to win these savages’ trust, we must be their friends, not conquerors!  God’s breath he was happy he had not been assigned to Amadas’s ship!

After they had gone below to inspect the cannon and had returned to the quarter deck, Barlowe’s servant brought forth the savage’s gifts: a seaman’s cap and shirt. The savage handled warily the woolen Monmouth cap. Harriot could see he had no understanding of woven fabric.

“Put in on, flat!” Fernandez grinned. He reached for the cap.

The savage jerked it away.

“Bloody lobcock!”

“That was not necessary.” Barlowe frowned. “Mind our instructions, Fernandez. Here.” He handed the savage a folded white shirt. He pointed at the garment worn by his servant.  It was collarless and billowy in the sleeves.

The savage received it, did not unfold it.

“Do you have with you the wine and salted beef?” Barlowe asked the servant.

The servant returned from the capstan with a wine bottle and two wine glasses. He held the glasses while Barlowe poured.

“I know you do not understand my words, but I will say this. Friends share this liquid.  It is called wine.”

The savage took the glass, held it with two hands, stared at the red color.

Two more items he has to wonder about, Harriot thought.

Barlowe cleared his throat. The savage looked at him. Barlowe raised his glass. The savage followed his example.

“To friendship” Barlowe took in a mouthful, swallowed, licked his lips, issued a contented sigh. He smiled. He made an arching, open-handed, encouraging gesture.

The savage tilted the glass, allowed the wine to enter his mouth.  He swallowed. Standing entirely still, he experienced the liquid’s taste and feel. He smiled, broadly.

Several observing seamen laughed.

The savage swallowed the remainder. Barlowe emptied his glass.

“We carry with us meat. Salted meat. I cannot say it is savory, but it helps sustain us.” The servant handed Barlowe a strip of beef wrapped in a cloth napkin. Barlowe tore off a piece, placed it in his mouth, chewed.

Receiving his piece, the savage bit into the meat and chewed. His face expressed tentativeness.  A strange taste, surely. He continued to chew. His face gradually indicated approval.



Writing "Alsoomse and Wanchese" -- Editing

 

This past December I finished the first draft – 35 chapters – of my Roanoke historical novel manuscript and began the lengthy task of editing.  Here is some of what I want to say about editing.

 

Editing encompasses everything from placing commas correctly to word, phrase, and sentence selection.  Narrating dialogue is much easier for me to do than narrating character thoughts and emotions.

 

Initially, I edit five chapters, go back to the first chapter, and edit the five chapters again.  Then I edit the next five chapters, go back, and edit a second time.  Ideally, the double editing makes the writing much better.  That is not always the result.  Sometimes the revisions are not much better than the original.

 

I do my first writing without much regard for articulate expression.  It is enough for me to get the story into words on a sloppy disc.  Thereafter, I work mostly on expression until I feel satisfied with the result.

 

After the double read-through, I edit the entire manuscript without going back.  I always find original flaws overlooked or flaws added in the previous editing.  I liken this to weeding a large, overgrown planting area.  The tallest weeds have to go first.  Afterward, I am able to see the smaller weeds.  I want them to be entirely gone after the second read-through.  They never are.  Something always needs to be improved.

 

After I have edited the manuscript three times, I have my wife do a read-through.  She is a voracious reader.  I trust her judgment.  It is difficult judging your own work.  It helps considerably to have another pair of eyes assess it.  Those eyes must, however, belong to somebody who recognizes good writing.  After my wife’s involvement, I make necessary changes and read through the manuscript again.

 

I am currently double-editing chapters 21 to 25.  A year has passed since I wrote those chapters.  I had forgotten several scenes.  Reading them was like reading another writer’s work.  Most pleased me.  Here is one such forgotten scene (edited one).

 

Inside, darkness.  She could see along the walls, mostly because she was familiar with what was kept there, wooden utensils, Machk’s bows, cutting and sharpening tools, planting and weeding poles, mortar and pestle, scraping stones, baskets containing seeds for cattapeak planting -- dark shapes recognized by a once friend now considered a personal enemy.

It had been the injury to Machk that had begun her and Nana’s estrangement. It was, unmistakably, Samoset’s death that had closed all communication between them. Until now.

Nana, lying on her raised bed in the most distant corner of the back room, was watching her.

“Nana! Get up!”

Lying on her right side, she did not stir.

“Be useful! Keep the fire burning while Wapun pries upon oysters, while your brother fishes to add to the pot!”

Nana rose to a sitting position.

“You smell! How long since you bathed? Machk and Wapun have to sleep here, also!”

“What business is it of yours? I do not want you here.” Her tone was more factual than emotional.

“Our men are trained from boyhood to accept torture and flaming death without self-pity or complaint!” Alsoomse’s demeanor was harsh. “We are taught to accept what is not fair and to continue to perform our duties as though the gods favor us. Get up! Be a Roanoke woman! Samoset is not worth grieving!”

Anger flashed in Nana’s dark eyes.

“Yes, Samoset! He is not worthy of your grief, or whatever it is that makes you such a lifeless coward!  Get up! Get up if no more than to hit me, you ugly, manless imitation of a woman!”

Nana stood. “You!” She pointed. “With your deformed face!” She jabbed her forefinger. “You brought that on yourself! Machk could have been killed! Get out of this house!”

“No! Not unless you take your stinking body now to the creek!”

Nana stepped close.

“You do not have the courage to hit me!”

Nana swung.

Alsoomse caught and held high Nana’s right fist. “I am still here. Try again!”

“I hate you!”

“Of course you do!”

Nana yanked her right hand loose.

Alsoomse slapped her friend’s face.

Eyes large, Nana looked at her.

“That is for allowing Samoset to use you!” Alsoomse slapped her with her left hand. “That is for abandoning your friends, who did not abandon you!”

Nana swung. Alsoomse allowed Nana’s right hand to strike her deformed cheek. Despite herself, she winced. Pain coursed through the roots of her teeth.

Nana’s left hand covered reflexively her nose and mouth.

“Get it out! Get it all out,” Alsoomse exclaimed, ‘but go this time for the other cheek!”

Staring at her, Nana burst into tears.

 

 

I chose randomly a scene from an earlier chapter to illustrate the kinds of changes I make during my double read-through.  I have divided the scene into five parts, the end of each part marked with asterisks. The first section within each part is my original writing, the second section is the result of my first read-through, and the third section is the result of my second read-through.

 

 

According to Osacan, Nana had explained, Nootau had fallen in love with a Choanoac girl. Odina had looked across the indoor fire at Mushaniq, seated on a mat beside Sokanon. She is jealous, Alsoomse had concluded, as jealous as me. Sokanon had found her man! At Croatoan. She had found a face full of pain.

 

According to Osacan, Nana had explained, Nootau had fallen in love with a Choanoac girl. Odina had looked across the indoor fire at Mushaniq, seated on a mat beside Sokanon. She is jealous, Alsoomse had thought, as jealous as me. Sokanon had found her man! At Croatoan. She had found a face full of pain.

 

“Osacan said Nootau fell in love with a Choanoac girl,” Nana had explained in Sooleawa’s longhouse. Odina had looked then across the indoor fire at Mushaniq, seated beside Sokanon. Odina is envious, Alsoomse had recognized, jealous as I am, that Sokanon found her man! Where I found a face full of pain!

 

***

 

She would have to be fair-minded. Careful. She had lost – she hoped temporarily -- one best friend. Her other best friend, Odina, seemed uncertain how to relate to her. Sokanon’s good fortune and her misfortune were not her cousin’s fault. Sokanon was a far better cousin than she deserved. She wanted to speak her feelings, her thoughts!

“Will you tell us stories any more?” Pules had asked. “Not … yet” was all she had been able to answer.

 

She would have to be fair-minded. And careful. She had lost – temporarily, she hoped -- a best friend, Nana. Odina seemed uncertain how to relate to her. Sokanon’s good fortune and her misfortune were not her cousin’s fault. Sokanon was a far better cousin than she deserved. She wanted desperately to speak what she thought and felt!

“Will you tell us stories any more?” Pules had asked. “Not … yet” was all she had been able to answer.

 

She had also recognized that she needed to be fair-minded. And careful. Nana now disliked her. Odina seemed uncertain how to relate to her. Her particular misfortune had been nobody’s fault but her own. How despicable that she should begrudge Sokanon’s good fortune! Sokanon was a far better cousin than she deserved! She wanted desperately to speak what she thought and felt!

“Will you tell us stories any more?” Pules had asked.

“Not … yet” had been all she had been able to answer.

 

***

 

Sokanon had spoken privately to her mother before Alsoomse and the others had entered Sooleawa’s house, having gone first to Odina’s house. During the conversations that had crossed the fire pit Alsoomse had observed closely her taciturn aunt. Sooleawa had always treated Alsoomse distantly. Her disapproval had increased after Nadie’s death. At times Aunt Sooleawa had been somewhat distant toward her own daughter. Alsoomse had thought perhaps that such behavior at certain stages of a mother/daughter relationship was normal. This evening Sooleawa was joyous.

 

Sokanon had spoken privately to her mother before Alsoomse and the others had entered Sooleawa’s house, having gone first to Odina’s. During the conversations that had crossed the fire pit Alsoomse had observed closely her taciturn aunt. Sooleawa had always treated Alsoomse distantly. Her disapproval had increased after Nadie’s death. At times Aunt Sooleawa had been somewhat distant toward Sokanon. Alsoomse had thought perhaps that such behavior was normal at certain stages of every mother/daughter relationship. This evening Sooleawa had been joyous.

 

Sokanon had spoken privately to her mother before Alsoomse and the others had entered Sooleawa’s house, having gone first to Odina’s. During the conversations that had crossed the fire pit Alsoomse had observed closely her taciturn aunt. Sooleawa had always treated Alsoomse distantly. Her disapproval had increased after Nadie’s death. At times Aunt Sooleawa had been somewhat distant toward Sokanon. Alsoomse had thought perhaps that such behavior was normal at certain stages of every mother/daughter relationship. This evening Sooleawa had been joyous.

 

***

 

As for her own return, only Wapun and Pules seemed pleased to see her.

Alsoomse thought perhaps because she could not talk nobody wished to ask her questions. Without being conscious of it they had been excluding her from their conversations. She could understand why Machk did not want to provide details about his injury and its reason. No doubt Sokanon wanted to avoid doing so, also. Talk, therefore, had coalesced on one subject: how had Sokanon and Mushaniq met and how long did Mushaniq intend to remain at Roanoke.”Indefinitely,” he had answered, bringing color to Sokanon’s cheeks.

 

As for her own return, only Wapun and Pules seemed pleased to have her.

Perhaps because she could not talk, nobody wanted to ask her questions. Consequently, they were excluding her from their conversations. She could understand why Machk did not want to provide details about his injury. Sokanon wound not have wanted to speak about it, also. Talk, therefore, had coalesced on one subject: how had Sokanon and Mushaniq met and how long did Mushaniq intend to remain at Roanoke. ”Indefinitely,” he had answered, bringing color to Sokanon’s cheeks.

 

As for her return, only Wapun and Pules seemed pleased to see her.

Perhaps because she could not talk, nobody wanted to ask her questions. Therefore, they were excluding her from their conversations. She could understand why Machk did not want to provide details about his injury. Sokanon would not have wanted to speak about either injury. Talk, not surprisingly, had coalesced on one subject: how had Sokanon and Mushaniq met and how long did Mushaniq intend to stay? ”Indefinitely,” he had answered, bringing color to Sokanon’s cheeks.

 

***

 

Alsoomse’s moroseness was sundered by Tihkoosue’s sudden entrance. Seeing her, he froze. Recovering, he took two steps toward her, knelt on one knee, extended tentatively his right arm. His face contorted. He touched her left shoulder.

“I have missed you so much!”

Their liquid eyes communicated.

Alsoomse patted the vacant space beside her.

 

Noise came suddenly from outside. Tihkoosue burst into the room. Seeing Alsoomse, he froze. Recovering, he took two steps toward her, knelt on one knee, tentatively extended his right arm. His face contorted. He touched her left shoulder.

“I have missed you so much!”

Their liquid eyes communicated.

Alsoomse patted the vacant space beside her.

 

Noise came suddenly from outside. Tihkoosue burst into the room. Seeing Alsoomse, he froze. Recovering, he took two steps toward her, knelt on one knee, tentatively extended his right arm. His face contorted. He touched her left shoulder.

“I have missed you so much!”

Their liquid eyes communicated.

Alsoomse patted the vacant mat beside her.

 

***

 

I am not pleased with some of my changes.  I hope my single read-through beginning probably next month will produce better results.



Writing "Alsoomse and Wanchese" -- Clothes and Weapons

 

Of his initial encounter with Roanoke Algonquians, Captain Arthur Barlowe wrote the following:

 

We remained by the side of this Island two whole dayes before we saw any people of the Countrey: the third day we espied one small boate rowing towardes us having in it three persons: this boat came to the Island side, foure harquebuzshot from our shippes, and there two of the people remaining, the third came along the shoreside towards us, and wee being then all within boord, he walked up and downe upon the point of the land next unto us: then the Master and the Pilot of the Admirall, Simon Ferdinando, and the Captaine Philip Amadas, my selfe, and others rowed to the land, whose comming this fellow attended, never making any shewe of feare or doubt. And after he had spoken of many things not understood by us, we brought him with his owne good liking, aboord the ships, and gave him a shirt, a hat & some other things, and made him taste of our wine, and our meat, which he liked very wel: and after having viewed both barks, he departed, and went to his owne boat againe, which hee had left in a little Cove or Creeke adjoyning: assoone as hee was two bow shoot into the water, hee fell to fishing, and in lesse then halfe an houre, he had laden his boate as deepe as it could swimme, with which hee came againe to the point of the lande, and there he divided his fish into two parts, pointing one part to the ship, and the other to the pinnesse: which, after he had, as much as he might, requited the former benefites received, departed out of our sight.

 

I have just finished my chapter that recounts this event, narrated from English scientist Thomas Harriot’s and Algonquian warrior Wanchese’s viewpoints.  It was necessary for me to research the clothing these exploring Englishmen could have worn and the weapons they probably possessed.  The internet article “Arms and Armor of the Roanoke Colonists” (https://www.nps.gov/fora/learn/education/arms-and-armor-of-the-roanoke-colonists.htm) and follow-up internet articles about these weapons and articles about sailors’ clothing in the late 16^th Century provided me the information I wanted.

 

 

Let me first describe the clothes.

 

The typical male dress at that time comprised a hat, linen shirt, jerkin, breeches, hose, and shoes. The most prevalent foot coverings were either slip-on shoes or ankle boots. Some jerkins/doublets had buttons for closures; others had holes for lacing.  Common seamen wore very baggy breeches with woollen stockings, a thigh-length blouse or coat, and a tall, hairy hat.  Sir Walter Raleigh, Sir Francis Drake, Thomas Cavendish, Jacques Sores, François Le Clerc, and other gentlemen dressed in costumes appropriate to their rank.  They wore either hose or a combination of hose and breeches (close-fitting or baggy trousers tied with ribbons or garters near the knee).  Over these came padded doublets (like a stiff, form-fitting shirt), jackets, and cloaks.  Colors were bright, and clothes were ornamented with embroidery and jewels.  A wide ruff surrounded the neck, and almost everyone wore a beard and mustache.

Seafarers since the 1570s favored the Monmouth cap, a "skull cap" which was knitted from brown wool.  http://bbprivateer.ca/site_image/H-Orig-Monmouth.jpg

A seaman's shirt was typical of the peasant worker, loose fitting and flowing so as to not constrict movement. The shirt may or may not have a collar depending on when and where it was fabricated. Collars became more typical in the mid-sixteenth century onwards as a fashion statement, known as a ruff.  A common sailor generally favored the gathered neck, and a loose flowing shirt. It became common to place a knotted kerchief around the neck as an enclosure. The black neckerchief or bandana first appeared in the 16th century and was utilized as a sweat band and a collar enclosure. Black was the predominant color as it was practical and did not readily show dirt.

 

(http://shadyislepirates.com/bbprivateer.ca/sites/default/files/images/shirt2.jpg)

"Venetian breeches" or simply "venetians" were common with sailors from the 16-18th centuries.  Originally they were "gartered" at the knees with ties or belting, and later  variations were buttoned and became common in Admiralty lists and eventually became referred to as "knee breeches."  https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/a4/7c/dc/a47cdcda640702c93b3def4f163af82a.jpg

Here is a ship captain or bosun wearing "Venetian Breeches" or "knee-breeches."

 

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/a4/7c/dc/a47cdcda640702c93b3def4f163af82a.jpg

Another type of lower garment that was worn by sailors from at least the 16th Century, was a long trouser-like garment with wide, loose fitted legs open at the bottom. In the 16th Century, this generally set the sailor apart from the landsman fashions at the time, and are generally referred to as "slops". In the Elizabethan era, these lower garments ran full length.

http://floridafrontier.com/16th_Century_Mens_Hats_files/SailorHerm.jpg

A non-sailor passenger of high regard probably wore a doublet, the chief upper garment worn by men from the 15th to the 17th century. It was a close-fitting, waisted, padded jacket worn over a shirt.  It had no collar until 1540, allowing the shirt to be seen at the neck.  The shirt was also visible through slashes or pinking in the material.  The sleeves, which at first were sometimes plain and close-fitting, became wide, padded, and slashed with complex designs. Detachable sleeves were worn after 1540. The doublet fastened down the front with buttons, hooks, or laces in the 16th Century.  Thomas Harriot and John White probably wore doublets. 
 

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/d8/e6/2f/d8e62fd14188f98b80a1840ebdebca4f.jpg

Captains of ships -- Arthur Barlowe, for instance -- anticipating combat, might have chosen to wear a coat of plates, commonly referred to as a "jack."  The jack was made of small iron plates – often from recycled pieces of older plate armor -- sewed between layers of felt and canvas.  Here is one c1590. 

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/e/e6/Jack_of_plate,_English_or_Scottish,_c1590,_Royal_Armoury,_Leeds.JPG

I have the hot-tempered, aggressive Philip Amadas wear chest armor, part of what was called a corselet.  The corselet consisted of two plates connected on the sides via hinges and bronze pins.  It was made up of a gorget, breast covering, back and tassets, full arms and gauntlets.

http://cache4.asset-cache.net/gc/164073615-corselet-in-steel-decorated-with-engravings-gettyimages.jpg?v=1&c=IWSAsset&k=2&d=GkZZ8bf5zL1ZiijUmxa7Qe67jobqYANAK2SoTLit5iNAhPK7WhYkwFQBHdcx0qC9P00CWhDUfUCbVbjTCa8%2Fsw%3D%3D

If Amadas wore a corselet chest protector, he also probably wore a morion, a type of open helmet used from the middle 16th to early 17th centuries, having usually a flat brim and a crest from front to back.  The crest or comb on the top of the helmet was designed to strengthen it. Later versions also had cheek guards and even removable faceplates to protect the soldier from sword cuts.

https://cdn-content-oz2.storbie.com/images/helmet-22-16th-century-spanish-comb-morion-helmet-296.jpg?i=5fBs7bv1Clg6y0SPhp0VY-GpW6YbnycpXeoE0hrjZeXyEzG_vApdsWo3uPkTAdLR2niOSZIwZ8-sqZvpnw1lA5z6zcna-LxQTLv28mdvhq6CXVnhrqj5FU-zlGsdV3-z2o9JHxUM5hljHXWFF5gtGyLQdWrbqLTfEp3xLgqGaMcLDstbAA3mP-FtOy66F_xpL0Vgay6PXDWTbYh05vW1b6RxHC6y_cE3GhAg08OQL9gBfO55ZXDDXQ~~

Now for the weapons.

Barlowe’s account tells us that the exploratory party fired an arquebus during their first day’s investigation of the land next to where they had anchored their ships.

Under the banke or hill whereon we stoode, we behelde the vallyes replenished with goodly Cedar trees, and having discharged our harquebuz-shot, such a flocke of Cranes (the most part white), arose under us, with such a cry redoubled by many ecchoes, as if an armie of men had showted all together.

The arquebus was an early muzzle-loaded firearm used in the 15th to 17th centuries.  Like its successor the musket, it was a smoothbore firearm.  The arquebus was a shoulder-fired firearm which used the matchlock mechanism, the first mechanism to facilitate the firing of a handheld firearm. The trigger on early arquebuses was similar to those of medieval crossbows. When the trigger was squeezed, a curved arm known as the serpentine was lowered, plunging a slow-burning match into the flashpan to fire the weapon.  (More on the matchlock mechanism below)  As a low-velocity firearm, the arquebus was used against enemies who were often partially or fully protected by steel-plate armor. Plate armor worn upon the torso was standard in European combat from about 1400 until the middle of the 17th century. Good suits of plate would usually stop an arquebus ball at long range.  However, at close range, it was possible to pierce even heavy cavalry armor, although penetration was heavily dependent on the power of the arquebus and the quality of the armor.  The arquebus needed a pole that extended to the ground to stabilize it when aimed and fired.

http://www.oocities.org/yosemite/campground/8551/equipment.gif

The matchlock was the first mechanism, or "lock," invented to facilitate the firing of a hand-held firearm. This design removed the need to lower by hand a lit match into the weapon's flash pan and made it possible to have both hands free to keep a firm grip on the weapon at the moment of firing, and, more importantly, to keep both eyes on the target.  The classic European matchlock gun held a burning slow match in a clamp at the end of a small curved lever known as the serpentine. Upon the pulling of a lever (or in later models a trigger) protruding from the bottom of the gun and connected to the serpentine, the clamp dropped down, lowering the smoldering match into the flash pan to ignite the priming powder. The flash from the primer traveled through the touch hole igniting the main charge of propellant in the gun barrel. On release of the lever or trigger, the spring-loaded serpentine would move in reverse to clear the pan. For obvious safety reasons the match would be removed before the reloading of the gun. Both ends of the match were usually kept alight in case one end should be accidentally extinguished.  An inherent weakness of the matchlock was the necessity of keeping the match constantly lit. The match was steeped in potassium nitrate to keep the match lit for extended periods of time. Being the sole source of ignition for the powder, if the match was not lit when the gun needed to be fired, the mechanism was useless, and the weapon became little more than an expensive club.

http://www.oocities.org/yosemite/campground/8551/serpentine.gif

A petronel was a 16th or 17th century firearm, defined as a horseman’s piece. It was the fire-arm which developed on the one hand into the pistol and on the other into the carbine. The name (French petrinel or poitrinal) was given to the weapon either because it was fired with the butt resting against the chest (French poitrine, Latin pectus) or it was carried slung from a belt across the chest. Petronels are found with either matchlock or wheellock mechanisms.

http://i43.tinypic.com/2r5udrd.jpg

By the early 16th Century, as armor use declined due to increasingly effective firearms while the need for individual close-combat skills decreased on the battlefield for similar reasons, there was an increased amount of civilian combat and dueling. Large crowded urban centers saw an increase in private armed fighting among all classes and a thrusting method of unarmed fencing suited to these encounters quickly developed. Under these conditions new lighter, longer, quick thrusting single-hand swords, called rapiers, specifically intended for unarmored combat, gained advantage over more traditional military cut-and-thrust swords. They were soon adopted by the aristocracy as the dueling weapon of choice. During the 16th Century, the use of these long, narrow blades for unarmored civilian fighting took hold.  Designs for this optimal thrusting sword evolved.

http://www.hoppersgiftware.co.uk/ekmps/shops/southernswords/images/16th-17th-century-english-rapier-stage-combat-sword-4378-p.jpg

A dagger is a double-edged blade used for stabbing or thrusting. Daggers often fulfilled the role of a secondary defense weapon in close combat.  Daggers may be differentiated from knives in that daggers are intended primarily for stabbing whereas knives are usually single-edged and intended mostly for cutting.  Most cultures fought mainly with pole weapons, swords, and axes at arm's length after having utilized bows, spears, slings, or other long-range weapons.  With the advent of protective plate armor during the Middle Ages, the dagger was used effectively to stab through the gaps in armor.

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/52/33/b2/5233b286fa90baf13c666bddead8eba1.jpg

A halberd was a two-handed pole weapon use prominently during the 14th and 15th centuries.  The halberd consisted of an axe blade topped with a spike mounted on a long shaft. It always had a hook or thorn on the back side of the axe blade for grappling mounted combatants.

http://c0728562.cdn.cloudfiles.rackspacecloud.com/MI17145_HR.jpg

The bill was a polearm weapon used by infantry in medieval Europe. The bill was similar in size, function and appearance to the halberd, differing mainly in the hooked blade form.  Derived originally from the agricultural billhook, the bill consisted of a hooked chopping blade with several pointed projections mounted on a staff. The end of the cutting blade curves forward to form a hook, which is the bill's distinguishing characteristic. In addition, the blade almost universally had one pronounced spike straight off the top like a spear head, and also a hook or spike mounted on the reverse side of the blade.   The black bill was5 or 6 feet long, while the forest bill was 8 or 9 feet long.  One advantage that it had over other polearms was that while it had the stopping power of a spear and the power of an axe, it also had the addition of a pronounced hook. If the sheer power of a swing did not fell the horse or its rider, the bill's hook was excellent at finding a chink in the plate armor of cavalrymen, dragging the unlucky horseman off his mount to be finished off with either a sword, spear or the bill itself. These characteristics also made it effective against heavily armored infantry, dragging them into the melee or exploiting the weak points in their armor.  The small point found on the trailing edge of some bills was also useful for puncturing armor -- concentrating the force of the blow onto the point.  During the 16th Century when most European states were adopting the pike and arquebus, the English preferred to stick with the combination of bill and English longbow. Even in the Tudor period, bills were still common with levies sent to fight the Scots.  Although obsolete as a military weapon by the 17th Century, bills were sent (along with other obsolete arms and armor) to the New World with English colonists to provide defense against Native Americans and Spanish military expeditions.

http://www.kultofathena.com/images/LT20020_2_l.jpg

Here are three excerpts from my chapter.

They were armed. They had swords, inside something covering them, hung from something about their waists. They were long swords, not the length or shape of the wooden swords he and his village’s warriors sometimes used in battle. They also had something [petronels] nearly the length of their forearms, something narrow that pointed. These they also had tucked under the something about their waists. One of them had a long spear, longer than what he and his friends used to fish. It [the bill] was not made of wood but of something he had not ever seen. At the end of it was a point but also two curved cutting pieces and something else that chopped. To defeat a man with this killing spear, a warrior would have to get himself past the cutting and piercing things, grab the center of the spear, and wrenched it away, a very difficult task.

These Tassantassuk carried these weapons not for self-protection – he, one against six, was no threat – but for display, a warning to him of their superior montaoc. 

 

***

The one in the center of the group, the shortest one – too young to be their leader, Wanchese thought – spoke. His eyes flashed. He was not content. Wanchese saw emotion close to anger. Anger because I do not understood his words. The Tassantassuk had a strange protection [a corselet] over his arms, chest, and stomach. It was gray in color. Its surface looked hard. Wanchese imagined the point of an arrow bouncing off it. On his head he wore a strange object [a morion], tall and ugly and hard-looking like what protected his chest.

The others were not so protected. They covered their bodies not with animal skins but other things, things very strange. Even their arms, legs, and feet were covered. One of them, the oldest of them, wore something [a jack] over his chest that did not have the hard surface that the shorter man wore.  The surface looked soft. He could see that sewing had been done. Not like the shorter man, all the others wore something tight and soft [Monmouth cap] over their hair. Coarse hair extended from cheek bones and chins. They and what they wore stank!

 

***

 

“I’ll have the bugger know something first!” Amadas stepped over to the savage, who, cat-like, turned to face him. Amadas pointed at the hilt of his sword. “I saw you looking at it. You may see it.” His eyebrows, an invitation, lifted.

The savage stared at the hilt, looked briefly at Amadas, nodded.

“He needs to know how the land lies!” Amadas said aggressively.  He drew his blade.

Head lowered, the savage stared. His right fingers touched the steel. He felt its edges with his thumb and forefinger. He then straightened, looked at Amadas again, nodded.

“He takes your meaning,” Barlowe said.

The savage pointed at Amadas’s petronel, slung from the belt that crossed the little man’s chest.

“Rot me!” Amadas exclaimed. “Inquisitive bugger!”

“Give him a demonstration!” Fernandez grinned.

“I wonder at this,” Barlowe said.

“God’s breath, old man! I don’t give a fart in hell! I command here! White! Get a hand to bring up spare fardage! I’ll put a hole in it!”

They waited.

Amadas produced a petronel ball. He held it two feet in front of the savage’s face. He pantomimed inserting the ball in the petronel’s barrel. He took aim at a distant sailor, made an explosive sound, walked with the ball the length of the quarterdeck, and thumped the ball against the sailor’s chest.

White reappeared holding the slat of wood.

“Have that man prop it against the capstan! Tell him to stand afar!”

The petronel already primed, the match lit, Amadas aimed, its butt against his chest close to his right shoulder. “Not very accurate but meant to kill charging cavalry,” he excused. Harriot was amused that Amadas felt the need to explain, especially using words the recipient could not understand.

The savage leaned toward the petronel. The explosion and profuse smoke sent him staggering backward. Nearly squatting, he arrested his fall. Instantly, he sprung upright, muscles strained, eyes enlarged, face taut.

“Come with me!” Amadas ordered. He motioned toward the section of fardage. They walked to it, examined the hole made by the ball.



Writing "Alsoomse and Wanchese" -- Getting through the Tunnel

 

I see a light at the end of the tunnel.  The problem now is getting there.

It isn’t helping that I just had a corneal transplant operation on my right eye that makes reading uncomfortable.  That difficulty should pass in three or four weeks.

My main difficulty is linking fictional conflict with historical events.  To reiterate, I took an actual Roanoke Algonquian – Wanchese – whom historians know nothing about prior to 1584, gave him distinctive character traits, placed him in conflict situations, and had him do decisive acts.  I gave him a sister – Alsoomse – a fictitious character, and did to her what I did to Wanchese.  Now I must integrate seamlessly both characters and other fictitious characters into two historical events. 

The first event is the wounding of Wingina, the mamanatowick (king) of six Algonquian villages along and close to the shores of North Carolina’s Pamlico Sound.  Historians are not certain who wounded him and where it happened.  This has allowed me to designate Piemacum, the weroance of Pomeiooc, and his braves as the culprits.  I should not have much difficulty involving Wanchese in this event.  Alsoomse’s left cheekbone was permanently damaged by a blow struck by Piemacum’s primary subordinate – Sunukkuhkau – earlier in the novel.

*** 

She heard the sound of shock, alarm, and Sunukkuhkau’s triumphant hoot. She fought the Pomeuooc brave dragging her. She kicked at his feet; he lifted her, shook her, his hands squeezing to her bones her biceps. Her knees bent, she kicked at his shins, her heels striking and missing. He threw her to the ground, pinned the right side of her face with his left foot. With her left hand she reached for his toes, could not find them. Suddenly she was lifted. Two braves now had control of her. Arms and legs both immobilized, she was carried horizontally before the seated.

“Stand her up!” Sunukkuhkau ordered.

“Stop this!” Woanagusso, standing, advanced.

“You have no right!” Hurit was with her.

“Get back! I will have my due!”

She saw Manteo step forward.

“Samoset, Taraquine, I need you!” she heard a male voice shout.

Sunukkuhkau’s voice: “Two arrows are pointed at your weroansqua’s chest! Any attempt to stop me will cause her death!”

Her head immobilized by the seizure of her hair, Alsoomse was yet able to see Manteo hesitate, look to his left, presumably at Woanagusso.

“Keme, stop!” It was Hurit. “Just … stop!  Control Samoset, Taraquine!  Wait!”

“Hold her arms behind her!” Sunukkuhkan ordered.

First her right, then her left, were twisted behind her. When she attempted to kick, her arms were lifted causing her to wince and rise on her toes.

Two arrow length’s distance from her, Sunukkuhkan half turned. “You heard the great insult this Roanoke did me one sleep ago,” he orated. “Her weroansqua has denied me the right to whip her. No woman commands Sunukkuhkan. My great leader Piemacum sent me here to make peace with Croatoan. Hurit and this servant spits on it! Woanagusso permits it! I will defend Piemacum and Pomeiooc’s honor!

Alsoomse spat at him.

Wheeling, he struck her left cheekbone with the heel of his massive right hand.

***

Alsoomse wants vengeance.

***

[A much later scene.  Alsoomse is visited by an intellectual male Croatoan with whom before her injury she had conversed]

He rubbed his left cheekbone, drew his left forefinger away, looked at it, then grimaced. “Strange. Sometimes the body does something intentional the mind does not order, or does not know it has ordered. I look at you, I see the damage, and my finger goes to that place on my cheek.”

She blinked. She wondered if her eyes could reveal what she thought.

“I witnessed what happened. I asked later why it happened. Therefore, I know certain things.” Seated on the upended, thick block of wood that Sokanon had occupied, Abukcheech placed the palms of his hands over his bony knees. “My first question is, ‘Do you regret what happened?’”

Alsoomse felt her eyes jump. She looked inwardly.

Two women conversing passed outside the nearest wall.

He wanted her answer. Which was it? She moved her right hand.

He nodded. He closed his legs, scratched awkwardly the left side of his head. “You had to think.” He leaned forward. “Why?”

She frowned, moved her left hand.

“No, you have to answer. It is important to know.”

She stared at him, her lips tight.

“I told you when we spoke before that you wanted to be a man.” His right thumb and forefinger rubbed both sides of his jaw. “He hit you. He did not kill you. Are you glad now that you are not a man?”

What was this weak little man’s message?

“Do you regret speaking like a man because of this injury?”

Of course! She moved her right hand.

“But you have other reasons, I think.” He looked at his active forefinger. Curled it. Looked at her. “Because of it you caused other people injury or hardship.”

She blinked, closed her eyes, moved the hand.

“Then maybe you have learned that freedom to speak, or act, requires also self-discipline. Perhaps you have learned that what you do affects others. Nobody is really independent.” He gazed at her.

Who was he to judge?

“A wise man knows that. A true woman knows that.”

She resented his superiority.

“A good woman helps her man become wise.”

A “good” woman cannot oppose injustice?

“Your eyes tell me you want vengeance.”

She scowled, jerked her right hand.

“How can you take vengeance without risking or burdening other people?”

She had no answer.

“I believe it is better to be good to people you care about and accept what you cannot control.”

Is that what he thought he was doing with her? All the while adding wood to my anger?

“I have talked enough.”

She closed her eyes. Recalled Sunukkuhkau’s ferocious face.

“I will stay here until your cousin returns.”

Do as you wish.

***

In a meeting of adversaries at Croatoan Wanchese declares his desire to fight Sunukkuhkau.

 

***

“We are pleased that the leaders of Pomeiooc, Dasemunkepeuc, and Roanoke have accepted our invitation to speak their dissatisfactions, listen, and strive to understand that our common interests are more important than  – permit me to say – selfish, individual purposes.” Manteo stood beside his seated mother, Woanagusso, weroansqua of Croatoan. To his right scowled the important men of Dasemunkepeuc and Roanoke. To his left glared the men of Pomeiooc.

…

“This man here, Sanukkuhkau. I know him. I know about him. I know him to be a cruel bully. At a meeting here two moons ago he insulted my mamanatowick and my weroance, both of whom sit before you. This man said they were weak, they were cowards.” Wanchese looked now at Tamabick. “That woman you saw at my fire is my sister. If she were here, this bully would recognize her as the woman who defended my mamanatowick and weroance, the woman who two sleeps later he struck and broke her face. He is the bully I hope someday to meet in combat.”

Wanchese turned toward Piemacum. “He, and you, are war-like people.” He looked at Manteo. “We do not need this meeting to understand who they are and what they intend.”

Piemacum’s face was inflamed.

“I will tell you exactly what I intend!” Pausing, leaning backward, he took control of his emotions. “I intend to make strong again the villages closest to the Pomouik. I will do this because you” – he nodded at Wingina – “do not!”

Wingina pointed his right forefinger. “Aquascogooc and Secotan are part of my confederation. You do not decide who protects them!” He rose.

“Aquascogooc and Secotan will decide. Not you. Not me. I will give them better reasons for them to accept me!”

Wingina took a step forward. Sunukkuhkau rose, stepped in front of his weroance.

Wanchese rose.

Watching Wanchese, Sunukkuhkau removed his knife from his apron band.

Manteo rushed between the lines of combatants. “Stop!” His hands made invisible arcs. “All of you agreed! Whatever was spoken would not cause fighting! Step back! I ask you. Everybody sit!”

Eyes locked, Piemacum and Wingina refused to move. Watching Sunukkuhkau, Wanchese slowly complied. Sunukkuhkau then sat.

Piemacum and Wingina continued to stare. Neither will sit first, Wanchese concluded.

Manteo again. “Because I am the host and one of you must sit first, … I ask, because of Wingina’s senority, that you, Piemacum, yield.”

Piemacum looked past Manteo as if he were vapor. To Wingina, he said, “If you interfere with what I and my braves do with the Aquascogooc and Secotans, I will treat you as I would the Mandoags.”

Wingina nodded. He turned toward Manteo. “Your meeting as achieved its purpose.” Squaring his shoulders, he addressed Piemacum. “We reject your assumption of authority. We will continue to serve all our people’s needs. Should you interfere, we will fight.”

***

I have not yet planned the run-up to and the actual wounding of Wingina and the event’s immediate aftermath.  This is entirely doable but I am impatient.  The tunnel is long.

The second event is the appearance and one month’s stay in July and August 1584 of the English exploratory party.  Historians do know quite a bit about what the Englishmen observed that month.  But what were the thoughts of the local Algonquians?  Historians must rely on Englishmen’s accounts of Algonquian behavior to infer native conclusions.  I am allowed, therefore, some leeway in portraying Wingina’s, Wanchese’s, Alsoomse’s, and other characters’ judgments.  I can do that, but doing so will take weeks.

I have two major worries about integrating Alsoomse and Wanchese into the narrative of these two events.  One, Alsoomse, because of the nature of the events, easily becomes a subordinate character, a bystander, an observer instead of continuing to be an instigator, a cause, and occasionally a resolver of conflict.  I do not want this to happen.  I will have to find several ways to make her relevant without violating historical truth.  Two, I have caused Wingina to doubt Wanchese’s reliability in crisis situations.  Yet, he will select Wanchese to undertake a vital mission at the end of the novel.  I have to find a way to resolve this apparent contradiction without straining reader credulity. 

The light flickers.  Depth perception is problematic.  I estimate that I have ten chapters to write to finish the first draft of this novel.  I have completed Chapter 26.  The novel will exceed 400 pages.  Will it be too long?  How will I be able to tell?  What should I cut?  Not need to attempt to answer these questions for quite some while.