A package with letter sits unopened on the round pietra dura table in the front hall of the Villa.

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The Letter Addressed to Principe Elswits wife

El segundo da de Mayo en el ao de Nuestro Seor 1780

La Mayora de la Princesa Excelente, Artemisia di Elswit

It is with sincere regrets that I must write to you today.

I have been informed our dear friend Su Prncipe ms Excelente Elswits rancho has been attacked by renegades from the local tribes. We can not confirm or deny the truth in who these devils are. Unfortunately, I can only be certain that a bloody raid has taken place. The newly started hacienda and surrounding out buildings have been burned to the ground leaving a charred footprint in the center of his dearly loved vineyards with Death triumphant at its core.

Several bodies have been recovered that we can tell were European amongst many native dead. We cannot tell, beyond their origin, who each soul was. friend or foe.

I can assure you we have given Christian rites and proper burials to these poor souls so you can be comforted in knowing they are with our dear Father. But sadly we cannot with certainty know which was our dear friend and benefactor the Principe.

These times are hard here in this new land. Our work and small mission to bring the pagan population to our Lord has suffered much over the last decade but the Principe in his hard work and generosity has helped immensely in our survival. His love and knowledge of the Grape has made it possible for the Mystery of Our Lords Sacrifice to be incarnate at our Mass with sweet wine from your husbands toil. The Principe will find many blessings and rewards for his efforts when he reaches heaven.

His valuable vineyards and their precious yield could survive. I know you would want to see his good works continue. If you can find it in your heart to deed over his lands to our small poor community we would be humbled to continue his legacy and work his lands. I have taken the liberty to request an agent of Our Most Christian Majesty be sent to you so that he may advise you what would be needed to lift the burden of this distant part of your husbands hard work from your shoulders at a time when you would benefit more from contemplation and prayers than overseeing a distant small portion of his estate.

I have included in this dispatch some personal possessions that must be your dear husbands with his journal.

May the Lord comfort and keep you.

Padre Fermn de Francisco Lasun de Arasqueta

Mission San Carlos Borromeo de Carmelo, Alta California

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In a tattered journal with the crest of the House of Elswit on cover

From the journal of Principe Capacitatodd Elswit,

Durante l'anno di nostro Signore 1780

Bello Pacifico

Casco Antiguo is as alive a port as one could imagine and here on this side of the Americasthe Spanish reign supreme. The Spanish draw most of their wealth from the South American coast and Manila. (Of course their only purpose is to bring the natives to God). No enemies venture this far in any numbers to be concerned about. And the riches of this small port are beyond imagining. To think this represents only a minute amount of the gold being sent back to Spain. They say the heat is mild now but, though equal to the temperature at home, when you add the humidity one can hardly breathe. I stayed in the shade and waited impatiently to leave for the drier climates north of here in Alta California. I chartered the ship and once loaded it was spilling over with goods. The winds were perfect for our sail north and, except for the whalers and trade ships, we were alone.

As we moved further north the jungles gave way to the barren western coast of Virreinato de Nueva Espaa. At this time of year the grass is so green and plentiful but there are few if any trees and the grass will turn a golden brown as summer approaches. Rolling hills retreat away from the dry cliffs into the distance and fade into the great desert beyond. And from that desert comes the dryness of the air. Heat literally pulling the moisture out.

As we passed the entrance into the Mar de Corts we see the last of the great migration of the whales that swim by my estate from January to late April in the thousands. These monsters are so large they can upset any size ship and send us to our Maker. Our Captain was as adept as these swimming giants are in avoiding one another as he tacts through the crowded waters. As a caution he had empty barrels in ready to throw overboard. He said the loud thunking sound as the barrels hit the water distracts them away from the ship if they get too curious. And one sailor played his pipes continually in the belief that music calms the whales. My observation is that they hardly have a thought for us in their great lives except when we pluck them from their eternal rhythm for use in our lamps and corsets.

At Acapulco we were able to do a valuable brisk business trading for spices, fine porcelain, ivory and lacquerware and also able to obtain many bolts of fine silk cloth from the Galeones de Manila-Acapulco that had just landed from the East.

Further up the coast we made a landing at San Diego to get provisions for the estate. Such a small outpost. There are at most 50 settlers not including the priests and soldiers and the Europeans are far outnumbered by the natives who just a few years ago rose up, burned down the stockade and small church killing 3 Spaniards in the process ..one being a priest. The authorities are still investigating what could have caused such madness. We traded goods for provisions for the estate. (Ever the optimist I am planning for my work and improvements to still be intact after this much time passed.) And since I did not know in what state my cattle were in I also bought up 10 good cow and one fine bull before they were slaughtered with the rest of a herd on the beach being readied for market south.

Within a week we should see the beach, small arroyo with two round hills on either side and in the far distance the high bare mountain some call El Calva that marks our destination.

At Sea

Weather cool, sea calm, winds fine.

Mission San Juan Capistrano

We spent the night on board before safely going ashore in the morning. To our South the cliffs rose high and rocky and the beach in front of us with mild waves. The Sun rose over the gentle green hills pure and strong so bright I could barely look at the smoke rising from the small mission hidden by the pepper trees and palms in the valley before us. We were greeted by a contingent of padres from the mission and soon had a small army of Juaneos Indians helping us unload the ship. With only two launches this took all day to get the goods up high enough on the sand to not be swept away when the tide came back in. Of course the bull was tethered to a uselessly small tree and was soon wandering up the valley toward the fresh water higher up the San Juan creek. I gave two Indian boys the duty of following him so that he didnt get out of sight and so we could capture him later and before he entered the missions herd unbranded.

After the guards had been posted over my unloaded cargo, and a boy sent ahead to my estate to let them know I had arrived and to send carts with oxen immediately, I then made my way up the valley to the mission for the night.

The mission had grown but had to be resettled after only a few weeks of existence. A native uprising in San Diego forced the padres to go back south to the Presidio. Within a year they were back and now after four years much has been accomplished. The adobe church is complete and decorated with many frescoes all surprisingly painted by the native converts. Interesting how our Saints and their lives seem so much more bloodied and severe in their Divinity when painted by an innocent hand. And the mission bells are hanging from a large branch of a pepper tree waiting for their campanile to be constructed. The bells were too heavy to be transported to safety during the uprising so they were buried in the vineyard. I guess the padres learned how much the natives were of help when confronted with carrying their own objects.

Hacienda San Juan Capistrano

As suspected not much work has been completed on the buildings. The Ca Elswit is a sad affair of a large foundation, some mud walls and mostly timber supports. There is not one roof complete and al open to the stars.

I had enough light to tour the grapes. Though not tended properly most vines were strong and thriving but resembled that orphan Fios head of hair before Cece could shear him. All tangled growing in every direction without care.

Much work ahead.

We sleep tonight on what clear area we can find. The horses seem anxious and tensely alert. Probably the coyote that circle our camp watching us just beyond view and the light of the campfires. We can hear them talking to each other in their eerie speech and we know we are not alone.

(In an irregular and weak hand there is only the following)

salga cuore

casa

il mio amore

Villa Vesuviana Melioria

(Then empty pages. A soft warm breeze drifts in through the open front doors.)

il ventiduesimo Aprile durante l'anno di nostro Signore 1780

Casco Antiquo, Panama

After the early storm almost scuttled our ship mid Atlantic we decided to make a heading toward Santiagode Cuba instead of the long voyage around Tierra del Fuego. This meant we would then head to Portobelo and travel by land across the Isthmus to Casco Antiguo chartering a new ship to carry me up the western coast to my estate. Portobelo is so loaded with Spanish colonial gold and silver my ship was of no interest to anyone in port and, though the wages of these other ships are tempting to my crew, they are all seasoned enough to know what conditions are like on the Oro Ships. They are more than happy to carry out my wishes to make several ports of call around the islands to trade our goods while I journey on. Panama is a short route but full of heavy work loading and unloading our wagons and horses to cross all the streams and rivers to cover the trek from east to the west coast. It is early enough in the year that our passage overland was as free of perils as possible but the Caminoi de Cruces is abundantly punctuated with gravesites to let you know that a wish for safety is more in Gods hands then yours.

We are making decent time.

We are leaving our beloved home for a long while.

Tonight as the Fire Sprite heads out to sea I think on the journey to our fattoria in Las Californias. The journey will be long. but it has been 4 years since we have seen our holdings outside the small mission San Juan Capistrano . We are excited to see if the Criolla grapes have produced a wine of any consequence and if there is the possibility of bringing back slips to our vineyards here in Melioria.

It will be a long sea voyage and we expect the turmoil caused by this endless hostility between all nations over the Inglese loss of their colonies will make it even harder. The Inglese are giving outward diplomatic agreement to the spirit of safe passage for the neutral among us. But their pirateers have free rein on the sea lanes encouraged to take as many prizes as they canthe goal tocontinually needle the Bourbons. And though officially neutral what better point to drive home to the Napoli royal family and their relatives in Versailles and Madrid that even their little peaceful cousin Melioria is vulnerable to attack.

We pray our hugging the North African coast to Tangiers and a speedy dash thru the Strait we can pass the first dangers of this trip. We pray for strong trade winds. We shall see.

A fresh warm breeze enters thru the open windows of the Villa. Looking out onto the Great Lawn I see all is in readiness for our distinguished and talented guests this weekend.

Saturday February 5 ^th is only a few days away. The En Garde fencing tournament commences at 2pm SL time so guests should be arriving shortly before so they may have their maids and valets unpack their (18 ^th ) fencing attire and be down on the terrace just before 2pm to make sure they are included on the register of participates.

As I finish counting the prize moneys and place them into the purses I can smell the fresh baked goods being prepared for the picnic baskets. How I love a wonderful relaxing afternoon spent with my near and far cousins.

http://slurl.com/secondlife/Westphalia/60/182/25

il quarto di Gennaio durante l'anno di nostro Signore 1780

Villa Vesuviana

Musing on this ever changing best of all possible worlds I think on my home and what direction it should face the future. Since 1383 when that little favor was returned from Charles III of Naples with the blessing of Papa Urban VI Melioria has stayed unchanged. Peacefully traveling through the seasons and years, enjoying her anonymity and the occasional guests journeying from afar.

But Mayer warns me that the old ways may not last through another Turmoil especially one that he and my spies tell me is looming and coming quicker and more terrible than we can ever imagine. Look on the Americas. Madre della Mary del Dio! Who would ever expect such a change? And even here in Europa one wonders how long these old Families can go on the way they have without heeding the rumbles that our Age of Science has created in our people.

Even with taking Mayers advice to diversify and expand my holdings and all the financial return I have seen he thinks it may not be enough to shelter my ancient home. And though I feel comfortable at any of my far flung estates if I were to loose Melioria in the coming storm it would be as if my true spirit had been taken from my soul.

Something must be done. I am resolved.

Therefore I will be Moderne. I will take this small tiny island and push it towards the future. I will make it a place that all can call home even if only for a few weeks so that they have a stake in its future and will safeguard its existence.

I will leverage her peaceful neutrality and expound her natural beauty and vistas. I will take her sleepy streets and make them the Promenade of Europa. The best craftsman, the best goods will fill her shops. I will invest in and encourage bankers to open up branches here that provide their clients a partnership of absolute private transaction and security no matter what nationality. Couple that with no taxation of foreign residents or their deposits I will lock in Europas wealth here so that Europa dare not march on my sweet Melioria for fear of turning their world upside down.

I see a tiny glamorous principato di Melioria. A fantasy of perfectly groomed lush gardens when the rest of the Continent is freezing in winters grasp. And my dear jewel, my home, my heart, my Villa Vesuviana (long secret) turned into the apex of sensual pleasures, brilliant culture and curative waters. A destination to rival any Spa town in Europa.

All nationalities will be met with open arms. A high point on ones Grande Tour where one sees and must be seen.

So much to do

Cece must start to bottle that old spring water immediately. I wonder if I can dress up that old maid and have her greet the ships? Hmmmmm Contact Cece Barzan for reservations for the upcoming Season. Has a nice ring to it I think.

Forward

1 novembre dellanno di nostro Signore 1779

A small pathetic discovery was made this day. I have been looking for my journal for nearly a week and I have solved the mystery.

Cece was found passed out in my wine cellar this morning after being absent for the same time as my journal.

Seems she had pilfered my journal and while reading its lurid contents fortified herself with my best wine. And worse in a drunken stupor decided to write down in my journal her visions of what she was seeing around her!

Something about a Danza Macabra, mass hysteria and haunted spirits taking over the island. When finally roused from her debauched state she ran screaming to the church, madly crossing herself. She threw open the church doors screaming, "Save me Lord I'm a good woman!" and sprawled on the cold church floor praying for 5 hours.

Poor loon has missed a glorious few days on the island. The weather temperate, surrounded by friends.

And, without her cooking, I havent eaten this well in months!