“But, won’t some officer question me?”
“Perhaps, but if you stick to your cover story they will have no recourse but to take you along. Once they meet up with the Victory I’ll bet anything that the captain of the Pickle will gladly transfer you away from his seamen.”
“Most likely he’ll toss me overboard.”
“No. We intend to give you a rank of Surgeon who was working in the Australian station as they get set to build their own fleet. This will explain nobody knowing you.”
“Well, every lad in England loves to play at being a sailor and to meet Lord Nelson.” He looked around and said as he shook his head, “What am I speaking about? I still cannot fathom where I am or rather, when I am, so to speak. Tell me, does everyone in this time period travel in time?”
“No, just a handful of my club members.”
“So, why don’t you send a present day medical man back? Why would you want someone that knows just a thimble full of what a modern surgeon knows?”
“Because although ninety plus years have passed for you since the Battle of Trafalgar, it is over two hundred years for any of our club members and although lots have changed in your time, you still would have it easier to enter their world than we would. Also you are from the area and know the ins and outs while for us everything has changed from 1805 and although we train to enter their times it is always much better for a person from the area to complete a mission.” Bill paused then added, “Doctor Watson, I cannot order you or make you go back should you decide against it. Should you say no, the mission is something that will have to be done by one of our people.”
“What? Somebody else? No, I do wish to go on this so-called mission. I get to meet Lord Nelson and that is worth all of the fears I have of going back past my own time. I’m truly sorry if I led you to believe that I would turn it down. In fact I wish to start as soon as possible.”
Bill sat back with a smile of relief on his face. “That is good news, my friend. We can get started right away.”
“The sooner, the better,” Watson added.
“Well,” said Bill as he looked at his grandfather clock, “it’s 10:15 and it would be a good idea to get a good night’s sleep as it will be a long sea voyage in a sailing ship of 1805.”
Shirley and Watson agreed and Bill led them to their rooms.
It was 11:00 o’clock when Bill tapped lightly on Shirley’s door. Her smiling face appeared as the door opened a fraction. Bill tilted his head towards his apartment and whispered, “Samson is afraid to sleep alone and he pulled the bearskin rug off the bottom of the bed and it fell onto the floor.”
“Well,” she whispered as she opened the door and stepped out, “I simply must help him out.”
Samson was settled on Bill’s bed when the bedroom door opened and he saw Bill and Shirley enter the room and slip under the bearskin rug on the floor at the foot of the bed. He wiggled under the covers where the giggling was harder to hear.
The next morning Matt tapped on Bill’s bedroom door and said, “Sir, breakfast is served in the alcove. I knocked on Doctor Watson’s door and he will be ready in fifteen minutes. I also knocked on Miss Holmes’ door but she did not answer. Perhaps she is in the shower. If you see her will you tell her breakfast is ready? Thank you and I’ll take Samson out as you all eat.”
Shirley sat up with her hands over her mouth. “I better sneak back to my room before Watson tries to wake me.” They went to the bedroom door and Bill opened it a crack.
“All’s clear.” She went to her room before anyone was the wiser.
Twenty minutes later they were seated at the table in the alcove enjoying eggs, bacon, ham, toast and tea.
After breakfast Bill went to Matt and briefed him on the upcoming mission.
“Very well, sir. Hopefully after lunch I’ll have everything ready for you.”
As the three ate the breakfast he prepared, Matt glanced in the dressing room mirror. The outfit he had on he had worn more than once when he knew that the Orpheus, a ship from England, had docked and carried items that he wished to bring to the club. The first time he visited was on a cold
December morning in 1804.
The Orpheus had icicles hanging from every inch of her. The last time the ship’s purser had told him that on the next trip the Orpheus would be carrying fine English linen and Matt wanted to purchase some for the club. He went aboard as passengers walked down the slippery gangway carrying their luggage and the crew unloaded brand new English furniture and placed them on a large four-horse wagon.
Matt went to an open hatch and called down, “Lieutenant Whiting. Are you down there, sir?”
The glow of a hand-held oil lamp appeared and as it got closer to the open hatch Matt saw the purser look up at him. “Greetings, Mister Whiting,” he called down as he raised his tri-corner hat, “ Welcome back to New York, sir.”
“Ah! Mister Worthington,” the smiling uniformed man answered as he started to walk up the narrow wooden stairs, “Good to see you again, sir.”
“By the looks of the Orpheus it was a cold trip.”
“Indeed it was! And with the wind in our face for most of the trip, a long one as well.”
The five foot five-inch man tipped his tri-corner hat and his long blonde hair went straight back in the wind. The two men shook hands and Matt asked, “The last time we were together you said that you might be bringing a bolt or two of fine English linen. Has that come to be?”
“Indeed it has, sir. Would you like to come down the hatch and see it?”
“As much as I wish to,” he answered, “I would rather buy you something to drink in a warm establishment for keeping your word.”
“Sir, it would honor me greatly to have a drink with you and,” he said pointing to a low wooden building across from the dock, “the sign blowing back and forth in the wind states that it is the Wild Duck Tavern, which is a friendly place for sea-faring folk.”
Matt smiled as he held his hat tightly to defeat the wind from blowing it away, “Then the Wild Duck it is.”
The time traveler brought Whiting lunch and drinks as they chatted about the way ships left their dock only when it was full of cargo and or passengers. Matt felt that it was his duty to the club to always be on the lookout for various ways of traveling and the time traveler knew that in 1818 the various ship owners would start making schedules instead of keeping the ships tied up until they were full.
Matt sat back from the small wooden table with the empty pewter plates and full mugs of ale and said to Whiting, “I would wager that instead of leaving port only when the ship is full of passengers and cargo, if the people and cargo establishments knew that your ship was leaving at a certain time, they would be on time. A plus is that if a schedule was established there would be more cargo and passengers buying space on her as they could now be sure of leaving and arriving on time rather than sitting around for days and even weeks while waiting for her to be full.”
Whiting nodded, “While I agree with you, my friend, my captain has the final word and he is not the ship’s owner and the owners say that we stay tied up until full.” He looked around and whispered, “However, I hear that I am up for a promotion to captain and should I get a ship, I will strive to open the eyes of the owners.”
Matt lifted his half-full mug and said, “To Captain Whiting!”
Whiting smiled, hefted his glass and said, “Hopefully, my friend. Hopefully.” They finished their drinks and Matt walked back to Whiting’s ship and after paying, carried the two bolts of linen back to the club.
While Bill chatted with Shirley and Watson over breakfast, Matt gave a last glance at himself in the full-length mirror. His reflection showed a typical man of New York City, 1805. He wore an informal daytime outfit that matched a sketch done of the famous George (Beau) Brummell the fashion ideal of his age. Matt wore a deep blue cloth coat where the front ended higher than his waist but the sides dropped down to form a set of tails at the rear. Double-breasted brass
buttons popped out against the blue and when buttoned, it showed the tan waistcoat, a then version of a vest. The waistcoat’s color matched the long pantaloons, which were tucked into his knee-high black Hessian boots. On his head was a tall black hat but with a fashionably small brim. At Matt’s neck was a high, white, tied and stiffly starched cravat, which took Matt hours of practice to feel comfortable putting it on. Lastly, Matt put a long black, high collared cape over his shoulders and tied it around his neck as he thought, It can be chilly in September down by the docks.
Now enjoying their coffee in the den, Bill was telling both Shirley and Watson how the History Watchers of the future sent drones back in time and recorded events that were then turned into holograms and hand delivered to him when, after a tap on his den’s door Matt entered. All three looked as a man of 1805 entered the room and said as he tipped his hat, “Please excuse me, but as there is a mission coming up I must step back and set up the traveling.”
As he opened the door to the past, Watson looked with an open mouth and asked as Matt closed the door, “Is-Is he going on this mission with us?”
Bill shook his head and said, “No. Matt is going to set up our travels. He’ll be back and brief us all.”
At the bottom of the stairwell, Matt took out his Time Frequency Modulator and typed in his password then SEPTEMBER 14, 1805, TEN A.M., pressed the activate button and opened the door.
DATELINE: SEPTEMBER 14, 1805 TEN A.M. PLACE: THE TIP OF FUTURE TOMPKINS SQUARE PARK, NEW YORK CITY
Because the building that became the 1800 Club was not built until 1820, Matt knew that he was going to appear in a small area filled with trees and bushes that would become Tompkins Square Park in the future. He opened the door a crack and hearing birds singing he knew that the coast was clear of humans. Next he peeked out and opened the door more. Once he was sure that he was alone he quickly stepped out of the club’s security door and into the grassy section of New York. He picked up three small stones and set them in a seemingly random pattern, but to him they showed where the door that will take him back to the 1800 Club was. Because he was familiar with this time period he stepped out and headed south towards the docks of New York.
After a fifteen-minute walk the grass turned first into hard packed dirt roads then into the newly cobblestoned streets of the city and with that homes and businesses appeared as did people and cabs, which Matt hailed. Twenty-minutes later he stood on the dock that looked like a forest of tall trees with so many masts sticking up into the air. As the wind blew in from the ocean, Matt wrinkled his nose as the scent of rotting fish, horse waste and garbage lying on the sidewalk seemed to drift along on the sea breeze. Although store owners and men and women pushing carts all shouted as they hawked their wares, they seemed to be fighting a losing battle against the screeching sea birds that numbered in the hundreds all diving and attacking the dead fish and rotting garbage.
Looking at the line of ships loading and unloading their cargo of people and goods he knew that the ships that were loading would leave sooner than the ones unloading and he walked along the wooden wharf looking them over.
He spotted the Orpheus and with a satisfied smile walked up the gangway as she loaded cargo. A tall sailor walked past carrying a bag of flour and Matt asked, “Excuse me, sir, but is Lieutenant Whiting about?”
Without stopping the man answered, “Naw! He’s no longer with the Orpheus. He got promoted and sails with the Penguin.”
Matt let him go about his job and left the ship to go over his plans. As most of the ship’s officers ate and drank in the Wild Duck, he headed that way hoping to set up a trip for three. He no sooner entered than his name was called out. He turned to see Whiting coming his way with outstretched arms.
“Mister Worthington! How wonderful it is to see you again.”
The two men shook hands as Matt noted a different cut of uniform on him. “Am I right to address you as Captain Whiting?”
“I’d prefer James, as my given name should be used by my friends.”
“James it is and mine is Matt. Congratulations.”
“Thank you, now please sit and allow me to buy you a drink.”
Over a few drinks Matt found out that Whiting was promoted and given his own ship, the Penguin.
“She’s a Packet ship,” he declared with a smile. “Designed to carry passengers in top rate cabins along with a slightly lower class of cabins for a lesser price. Along with the passengers the ship carries cargo and the Royal mail. And,” the captain said, “best of all I’ve talked them into trying my ship as a scheduled ship. I’ve already put the word about that we leave on time, full or not. Many of the captains believe me to be daft. And perhaps for the first few trips we shall not reach our monetary goal, but when they know that they can rely on our schedule we shall come in well above the average.”
“I believe that your plan will work, my friend. Tell me, what is the date that you will dock in London?”
The captain took out a folded sheet of paper and opened it and said, “October 4.”
“Now,” the new captain asked, “what is it that you are looking for? I have some English cabinets that the person who ordered them has not shown up.”
“Not today, my friend. But I do wonder if perhaps you have three top rate cabins available for this trip back to England?”
“I do. In fact I have seven available. Are you traveling to England?”
“Not I,” Matt answered, “but three acquaintances of mine whom I cherish very much. Your ship would be perfect.”
Whiting asked with raised eyebrows, “Will they be here by noon tomorrow? We must cast off promptly.”
“Absolutely. What do they need to bring along?”
“Just themselves and their luggage. Do you have a return date for them or are they staying in England?”
Checking a slip of paper Matt said, “Yes, I do. They would like to leave on November 5. Is that too far in advance to tell if you will be in England?”
“A bit far to know for sure. However I shall remember that date and if I am in port, they will be welcome to sail back to New York with me.”
“And would you be able to recommend a nice clean place that they might stay in while they are in England?”
“Yes. The Green Heart on Seeley Street. A short cab ride away from the docks. Very upscale if that is their desire.”
“It is indeed their desire.”
Whiting took a notebook and short pencil from his inside pocket and said, “Would you give me their names, Matt?”
“Yes and if it was to your liking I will pay their fare right now.” At a nod from the captain Matt gave him their names and paid their fare across the ocean. Putting the bills in the notebook Whiting closed and put it back in his pocket as he said, “Believe me, my friend, they will have a pleasant trip in fine quarters.”
“Of that, I’m sure, captain,” Matt checked his pocket watch and said, “I’m afraid that I must return and help my friends get ready for their trip.” He stood and offered his hand as he said, “Once again congratulations, Captain Whiting. I wish you a safe crossing and hope to see you again soon.”
The captain stood and shook Matt’s hand, “It was pleasant to see you again, Matt, and I look forward to meeting your friends.”
It was three o’clock in the afternoon when Matt stopped the cab he had hired. It was at the edge of the forested area and as he paid the fare the driver asked, “Sir, is this not a bit away from town for a gentleman such as you to be in?”
Matt smiled as he gave him a tip that matched the fare, “I’m meeting a friend here in a moment or two, but thank you for your thought. Might I ask you to be at this very same place tomorrow morning at ten o’clock? There will be three friends of mine looking for a cab ride to the docks.”
The cab driver put the large tip away, smiled and said as he started to drive away, “I shall be here for your friends at ten sharp, sir. Tell them that Johnnie will be waiting for them. Rest assured.”
Wit
h a smile Matt walked casually looking around as though he was enjoying the greenery. Seeing nobody around he entered the wooded area and after a ten-minute walk arrived at the familiar section of the forest. He leaned against a tree and casually kicked a stone away from his destination; the time portal door of the 1800 Club. He took out his Time Frequency Modulator and entered his password then set June 3, 2015, 4:00 p.m. After he kicked away another stone he reached into seemingly thin air, grasped the doorknob, pulled the door open and quickly stepped inside of the stairwell. He then pressed the activate button on his TFM and went up the stone steps to the landing of Bill’s den, knocked and opened the door.
DATELINE: JUNE 3, 2015 PLACE:, THE 1800 CLUB, NEW YORK CITY
Matt entered the den and saw that Bill had served tea and there was an empty cup on the tray. “Matt,” he said as he pointed toward the empty cup, “please join us.”
“Thank you, but no, sir. I just had something to drink and must set up small valises for you three. Dinner will be at seven this evening and I shall brief you on your traveling plans.”
Dinner was an old Irish dish: mince. Ground chop meat and onions in brown gravy settled into the center of a dollop of mashed potatoes and small, sweet peas surrounding the food that now resembled a castle with a moat. They ate in the alcove and over tea in the den Matt entered the room with two valises one of which he placed on a hassock and removed an outfit.
“Gentlemen, I’ll be showing you the contents of one valise as the second one contains the same type and amount of clothing and accessories. As usual space is tight and the less the better. I’ve packed four jackets, all of the same design as the one I wore today. One is black one is brown, one tan and one dark blue. All have matching vests and pantaloons. This allows you many combinations of dress and gives you the appearance of having packed twice as much as you did. Five white shirts and four different colored cravats. Five sets of underwear, all quick drying after being washed. One high collar, black cape and one pair of black leather gloves, a tall collapsible dress hat and two pair of boots, one black, the other brown. Five pairs of knee high white stockings and lastly a bar of shaving cream with a straight blade. Please select a tooth brush and tooth powder from the bathroom cabinet” He looked at the two men and added, “If I’ve missed anything, please let me know.” He turned to Watson as he lifted a blue jacket out of his valise, “And for Doctor Watson I’ve included a British Naval uniform for when he becomes Surgeon Watson.” He held up a blue frock coat with gold Navy buttons then a pair of matching pantaloons, knee high white stockings and a tri-corner hat with gold piping. “You can use one of the white shirts and high collars beneath the jacket along with your black shoes.”
TimeTravel Adventures of The 1800 Club [Book 12] Page 10
