Manifest 390: History Hath Triumphed

Link to article: Manifest 390: History Hath Triumphed.

@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Baumans&display=swap');
@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Charm&display=swap');

:root {
#page-title{
     display: none;
}
 .footnotes-footer{
     display: none;
}
}
div.paper {
    padding: 20px;
}

```
font-family:Times
```

font-family: Tangerine; font-size: 1.7em;

font-family:Times; background: linear-gradient(rgba(240, 200, 200, 0.3), rgba(240, 200, 200, 0.5)), url(

font-family: Tangerine; font-size: 1.7em;

font-family:Times; background: linear-gradient(rgba(240, 200, 200, 0.3), rgba(240, 200, 200, 0.5)), url(

font-family: Tangerine; font-size: 1.7em;

font-family:Times; background: linear-gradient(rgba(240, 200, 200, 0.3), rgba(240, 200, 200, 0.5)), url(

font-family: Tangerine; font-size: 1.7em;

font-family:Times; background: linear-gradient(rgba(240, 200, 200, 0.3), rgba(240, 200, 200, 0.5)), url(

font-family: Tangerine; font-size: 1.7em;

```
font-family:Charm; font-size: 1.1em;
```
```
font-family: Tangerine; font-size: 2em;
```

font-family: Tangerine; font-size: 1.7em;

border: solid 1px #000000; background:#ffffff; padding: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;

```
margin:20px
```
```
width:100%;
```
```
width:100%;
```
```
width:100%;
```
```
width: 50%
```

```
paper
```
```
paper
```
```
paper
```
```
paper
```
```
paper
```
```
paper
```
```
scp-image-block
```
```
block-center
```
```
scp-image-caption
```
```
UC_footing
```
```
blockquote
```
```
blockquote
```
```
blockquote
```

[[include :scp-wiki:theme:unusual-cargo]]

[[module css]]
@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Baumans&display=swap');
@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Charm&display=swap');

:root {
#page-title{
     display: none;
}
 .footnotes-footer{
     display: none;
}
}
div.paper {
    padding: 20px;
}
[[/module]]
[[>]]
[[module Rate]]
[[include :scp-wiki:component:author-label-source start=--
|name=StrangerSwing
|no-right-margin=*]]
= **Manifest 390: History Hath Triumphed**
= Written by [[*user StrangerSwing]]
----
= Read more from me at [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/the-stranger-swings | my author page.]]]
----
[[include :scp-wiki:component:author-label-source end=--]]
[[/>]]
[[div class="paper" style="font-family:Times"]]
[[=]]
++ The R. H. Commission on Unusual Cargo
+++ Authorized by the Board of Regents of said Commission
+++ Manifest 390
Curator: [[span style="font-family: Tangerine; font-size: 1.7em;"]] Harrison Wetherby[[/span]]
[[/=]]
++ Storage Instructions
Given the colony does not take kindly to outside interference, its seizure is forlorn. The colonists must not be apprised of their predicament on pain of death, and all lengths must be taken to prohibit colonists with child from leaving. If an unexpected vessel happens upon an apparition of the colony, its captain is to be bribed, and its shareholders convinced the venture ended in shipwreck.

++ Cargo Description
The Cargo is an event that has befallen numerous European colonies across the New World. When the Cargo manifests, the colonists are convinced that they are Englishmen residing on the isle of Roanoke in 1585. Consequently, they pose a significant risk to themselves as they employ scavenging and hunting techniques distinct to the Americas, unaware of their true whereabouts.

It is possible that there are many criteria for the apparition of the colony, but only two have been confirmed:
* The colonists number no more and no less than one hundred,
* Precisely one colonist is with child.
[[/div]]

[[div style="font-family:Times; background: linear-gradient(rgba(240, 200, 200, 0.3), rgba(240, 200, 200, 0.5)), url("https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/theme:unusual-Cargo/TOAST-PAPER.jpg");" class="paper"]]
++ Manifest Remarque 1
I set up camp with rations in a secluded cavern, making sure to avoid the colonists' exploratory habits. It seems they did not arrive with the greatest cartographers, as the soil was infertile and the reservoirs were sparse. They showed much uncertainty, as their ship rations had begun to wear thin, and the second fleet of colonists and rations had not yet arrived. Chief among their concerns was the Governor's wife, Mary, who was three months pregnant and needed the most nurturing.

Though the supporting fleet arrived two days late, their arrival was a great boon. There were only twelve newcomers, and a plethora of supplies from muskets to wheat seeds, but a great change was seen in their behaviours as the final man disembarked ashore. Where a deckhand had gone below deck with a straw sack and hatchet to throw the inedible seeds overboard and slaughter the wethers for mutton and cotton, he resurfaced to hand them to the farmhands. Carpenters picked up their hammers to erect sheep pens and crop fences upon unfit and unstable ground. Over the following days, the farmers checked their crops and livestock again and again, befuddled by their refusal to bloom and graze. They doused these ‘fields’ in ruined mudwater from the basin, choking the starved soil further. I considered offering the colonists the rations from my tent, but decided against it, both as instruction from my employer, and because I knew better than to tamper with such things.

On the ninth day, I woke not to the spiteful malaise of a colony in starvation, but to complete and utter silence.

Men and women were sprawled on the grass, worn quite literally to the bone. They were not at Death’s threshold, more its gradient. A snail’s pace transition from a populace of character and livelihood to a bony heap of desiccated organisms. No longer at risk of confrontation, I retrieved the census from the Governor’s quarters and went around counting the dead. After the ninth cadaver, I heard the first noise of the morning: a demented moaning coming from an adjacent tent. I rushed over, and found the Governor’s wife reeling on the floor of her quarters. Her eyes lit up at my arrival, gesturing in distress at her sprawled legs. The discomforted moaning escalated from angry groans to hyperventilating and soon to primal screams. Her throat was far too dry to entertain such a thing, but it was as though her body had reconfigured to support just that; a scream emanating from the blood of the heart.

Mary’s babe is a penny’s thickness and a sloth’s vigour, but is otherwise in health. He will remain in my care for the remainder of my voyage.
[[>]]
[[span style="font-family: Tangerine; font-size: 1.7em;"]]Harrison Wetherby[[/span]]
[[/>]]
[[/div]]

[[div style="font-family:Times; background: linear-gradient(rgba(240, 200, 200, 0.3), rgba(240, 200, 200, 0.5)), url("https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/theme:unusual-Cargo/TOAST-PAPER.jpg");" class="paper"]]
++ Manifest Remarque 2
[[include :scp-wiki:component:image-features-source |hover-enlarge=--]
|enlarge-amount=6
|speed=250
|float=true
|align=center
|width=400px
|url=http://scpdsandbox.wikidot.com/local--files/manifest-390:uncharted-colonies/winter_village_rembrandt.png
|add-caption=false
]]
The snow was eight feet deep. One hundred and one bodies were found.
[[>]]
[[span style="font-family: Tangerine; font-size: 1.7em;"]]Harrison Wetherby[[/span]]
[[/>]]
[[/div]]

[[div style="font-family:Times; background: linear-gradient(rgba(240, 200, 200, 0.3), rgba(240, 200, 200, 0.5)), url("https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/theme:unusual-Cargo/TOAST-PAPER.jpg");" class="paper"]]
++ Manifest Remarque 3
Men and women from all nations and walks of life, Dutch or English, aristocrat or vagabond, farmhand or governor, these colonists all share their discomfort collectively and without word.

Guilt.

One does not take up colony life for the same reason scholars travel to Berlin and artists travel to Paris. Every meal a man's burden, every drink a fool’s gamble, every sleepless night bleeds into every hour of back-breaking labour as you learn to crave the icy European winds you once hated. If they ever will be born, your offspring will live equally miserable and short lives, and perhaps their offspring after that. And then there's the natives, who threw stones at your ship and screamed as your anchor fell. They know something. They’re not just protective of their property - that’s whiteman talk. They know you shouldn’t be here. So why are you here?

Despite all the hardship and tragedy, colony life has never grinded a soul. They come pre-ground, for ease of storage. These folks, whose lives play out against the backdrop of abject disregard, they learn that nothing could truly //belong// to them. So when they hear the boatswain on the port advertising a life in freefall, where they are their own responsibility, where they boast ownership of the gangrene between their toes and the smog on their retinas, they will fight tooth and nail to be thrown in a cargo hold to whichever continent is vacant. They will die young and agonisingly, but they will have done it for themselves.

It is true that Europeans will slaughter the natives simply for land rights and profit, but you mustn’t forget the people who take those orders. Why are the colonists here?
[[>]]
[[span style="font-family: Tangerine; font-size: 1.7em;"]]Harrison Wetherby[[/span]]
[[/>]]
[[/div]]

[[div style="font-family:Times; background: linear-gradient(rgba(240, 200, 200, 0.3), rgba(240, 200, 200, 0.5)), url("https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/theme:unusual-Cargo/TOAST-PAPER.jpg");" class="paper"]]
++ Manifest Remarque 4
I find it amusing that the Company was set on hurtling me around these tragedies like some sadistic sightseer, forcing me to endure massacre after self-massacre, without instructing me to trace it to its source. Perhaps they fear any men sent to the true Roanoke Island will return unrecognisable? Regardless, here I am.

There are four recognised stages of post-mortem. The first, //pallor mortis//, was present in the trees around the colony. The soil was rich and untilled, yet the foliage seemed almost too afraid to soak it. The second, //algor mortis//, creeped beneath my shins. A thin layer of mist coated the island, grasping at my extremities and keeping me light on my feet. The penultimate, //rigor mortis//, showed in the layout of the colony. Where one would expect a hasty and disorganised assemblage of tarps and crop fences, there was an unsettling perfection to everything. The tents were pegged at exact 45º angles, each precisely four feet from each other. But search as I did, //livor mortis// was wholly absent. The island was devoid of colonist blood.

In a light-footed retreat to my ship, I bumped into a dying tree of oak with a phrase carved in its bark. “CROATOAN”. I will investigate further.
[[>]]
[[span style="font-family: Tangerine; font-size: 1.7em;"]]Harrison Wetherby[[/span]]
[[/>]]
[[/div]]

[[div style="font-family:Charm; font-size: 1.1em;" class="paper"]]
[[=]]
From Sir Walter Raleigh,

To Her Majestie and Excellencie Qveene Elizabeth of the Realmes of Englande,

Dated 9^^th^^ September, 1603 Anno Domini,
[[/=]]

[[span style="font-family: Tangerine; font-size: 2em;"]]**T** [[/span]]his urgent lettre constitutes my plea of innocence to the charge of embezzeling the Crowne’s resources intended for Roanoke’s establishement. My testimonie seeks to frie me from my chargest, and to prouve the guilt of my first mate, The Right Honourable James White.

From a place of great prestige following my uoyages prior, Her Majestie's Houes of Commones granted me letters patent to, "claim or reclaim landes, covntries and territories from ignorance and svperstition, that the Gospell of Jesus Christe be sette forth." Soon following an order from Her Majestie's parliament to surveille and harass the lucrative silver trade of the conquistadores in the Americas, I set sail on the 24^^th^^ of Mæ, 1587, with my first mate and prospective governor The Rt. Hon. John White, overseeing a partie of 120 colonists.

White had departed London in dysgrace after the bastard impregnacion of his daughter, Eleanor Dare. Knowing his political foes would quickly undo him for this, he flee’d Europe to shield his daughter and future granddaughter from such individuals, and unsullie his reputation with noble leadership. It is my understanding that the courts have ruled White a good faith actor forced to disobey the law by my hand, and I must protest that this is furthest from the truth.

We took caucion to sequestre ourselv’s from patrolling armadas, and we found anchorage deep in an untouched archipelago. I tasked the deckhands with penning the wethers and erecting the provisional tents, while I assembled an expedicion team to map the locale and scout any Spaniard outposts. We found none, instead making the acquaintance of a tribe of Indigenous folk. One starts decrying us in Spanish tongue, of which our translator explained regarded taxation. “You hath bled our rivers dry,” It cryes. “You cannot expect us to bear more riches for you!” It was clear this brute took our company for conquistadores that have no doubte been exploiting their skill in golde panning to bolstre their metal trade. In this moment, I realised a great opportunity to gain this thing’s truste, and took advantage of its disposicion.

[[include :scp-wiki:component:image-features-source |hover-enlarge=--]
|enlarge-amount=6
|speed=250
|float=true
|align=right
|width=200px
|url=http://scpdsandbox.wikidot.com/local--files/manifest-390:uncharted-colonies/secoton_white.jpg
|add-caption=false
]]

“Feare nott, deare fellow,” I liased. “We share thy beurning hatre for these heathen taxmen. They have kneaded thee way of life with follied iconolatry and sophysticated technologyes to paint themselves as gods. I tell thee Now, no uncertaintie could comme from the one Treu God.” With this, a great reliefe caym across him, and he discretelie showed my partie to a conquistadore outpost. It becaym clear they took their secluscion for granted, as their lacklustre dyfenses seemed incappable of repellyng even the smallest of milicias. My thoughts whent to John in these moments, whose valour whould be wholly restored if word may spread he conquired a conquistadore camp without casualtie. I decided it was tyme to rallie my men.

Wen I reteurned to our colonie, White rush’d to me with a grymace. The roustabouts had neglected to salt the croppes before we departed, and they have now opened a lazaret packed with fruit flies and canker. I admitt, John and I were both tempted to keelhaul the bastardes like pirates, but White narrowly teurned me awæ from this macabre notion.

I gathered my men and anounnced our primary concern was the seckurement of a source of nourishment. A foole suggested a compromising plea to the conquistadores, whom whould surely use such a vulnerabilitie to sullie Her Majestie’s reputacion and slaughter us all. Another asked if we were to scavenge for food ourselves, to which I incquired archly if he was Christe Himself, capable of sequestring 100 meals from a desert such as this. To my suprysex, it was John whom suggested we peursuade the Natives to regale us with their supplies whyle we prepare to besiege and loot the more fruitful conquistadore outpost. So we retorned to the Natives, and presented to them a simple proposal, “Offer but a weeke of taxation to feed my colenistes, and I will slaughter thy debtors in cold blood.” An air of friction escaped the tribal leader’s stoicism no doubt, but it accepted our gambit.

White was deeplie transfix’d on the concuest of the outpost. The nitetime watchmen told me in pryvate that he would often sneake from his sleeping quartres at nite to phantasise about the siege. Our leisure conversations were subsumed by war games and military parlance and I soon learn’d to regret relegating the coffee beans to his care. He swyftly spirall’d into a state familiar to every ship captain, one of favouryng valour over one’s own hælth. The flesh beneath his eyelids loosened as he entrenched himself in the stentch of rum and the boundaries between the spoken word and the interior thought fell beneath his feet. The most miniscuel of inconveniences, from his fray’d shoelaces to squawking birdes anger’d him to his core, causing him to stumble onto the ship to rummage through the deck’s liqueurs and leave shatter’d glasses in his wayke. We feared him verily.

The morning of the siege, I awoek with a calme I had long craved. I hope’d that the trivial conquest would put John’s hært to rest and reteurn his focus to the welfare of the colenie, but alas, the calme swiftlie departed when I found John’s quartres emptie and our armymen remov'd from theire posts. I needed not intterogate the colenistes, as I sighted a great conflagration where the Natives were settled. My legges transported me posthaste before I had time to call enforcements or evaluate the battleground. Through the tears brought on by acrid plumes, I could see nought but melding shades of redde and orange. Somewhere beneath the defeaning roar of inferno, I discovered the tormented cryes of the Native girls in their huts, no doubt awoken by the blaze envelouping them. I waded through charcoal as one wades through snow, impeeding my overwhelming nausea and dysequilibrium. Each step entrenched me further in the surrealitie of my circumstances, grasping my emotional responses at eatch end and pullying them impossiblie taut. A question comes to an emptie mind: why did we come Here?

In the nucleus of the unravellyng, I recognis’d the tribal leader twitching beside the crimson corn fields. A steele fyrestriker had been dryven into his hært, presumablie the same instrument that has left a red slit across his thrœt. What remain'd of his willpower outstretch'd an arm to me and I cradled his head in my arms. I would've seen him crie if the flames were not sufficient to wipe the tears from our faces. "Listen well," he mouth'd. I gentlie moved my ear to his lips, and recoyled at a globule of his spitt landing on my lobe. "A plague o' you, and a plague o' your ventures of ego and valour. A plague o' the Whiteman an' all He takes pride in. Never let Him think He can belong where He can't, and damn’d be those who do." He pass'd in my arms, incantyng other curses in his Native tongue.

As the tribal man stilled, I look'd up to see John on the edges of the conflagration. He did not smile, nor weepe, nor laugh, he simply watched in an effort to comprehend his actions. Even from fiftie metres distance, I could see he was graspyng the flint tight enough to part his flesh, with red and white ichor seepyng from his palme. This was the last anyone ever saw of Roanoke's first mate.

The Crown's courtes struggel to believe these magicks caused the sudden disappearance of Roanoke Colonie, instead castyng me aside and chargyng me with grand embezzelment. I have soured my favour with thee, and I am perhaps wryting this account as a diary insteade of a legal document, but there are far more things causing my insomnia than legal troubles. I am sure you will see.

[[>]]
[[span style="font-family: Tangerine; font-size: 1.7em;"]]Sir Walter Raleigh[[/span]]
[[/>]]
[[/div]]
----
[[div style="border: solid 1px #000000; background:#ffffff; padding: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]
-----
[[=]]
**Incident Log**
[[/=]]
----
[[div style="margin:20px"]]
[[div class="scp-image-block block-center" style="width:100%;"]]
[[image https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/51/Casey_Station_November_2005.jpg style="width:100%;" {$alt}="{$Casey Station, Antarctica.}" link=#]]
[[div class="scp-image-caption" style="width:100%;"]]
Casey Station prior to the anomaly.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]
**Location:** Casey Station[[footnote]]Population: 102.[[/footnote]], Antarctica

**Date:** 14/01/2016

**Description:** Dr. Hattori is deemed criminally responsible for impregnating a colleague during his research tenure. He is escorted to the nearest seaplane base via helicopter, and the pilot recalls, “The minute the aircraft cleared Casey’s airspace, I noticed a flicker in my rear-view mirror. The base, which is mostly corrugated demountables on rocky ground, had been replaced wholesale by a plateau of dead grass. There was nothing else except a black spot in the middle of it, which I made out as a dying oak tree.”

Investigations are ongoing.
----
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="UC_footing" style="width: 50%"]]
++ [[[unusual-cargo-hub|The Commission on Unusual Cargo]]]
Tales:
[[module ListPages order="title" separate="no" tags="+unusual-cargo +tale"]]
· %%title_linked%% ·
[[/module]]
Manifests:
[[module ListPages order="title" separate="no" tags="+unusual-cargo +goi-format"]]
· %%title_linked%% ·
[[/module]]
Other:
[[module ListPages order="title" separate="no" tags="+unusual-cargo +scp"]]
· %%title_linked%% ·
[[/module]]
[[/div]]

[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box]]
=====
[[div class="blockquote"]]
**Filename:** The Making of Virginia and the Middle Colonies; First Colony at Roanoke.jpg
**Author:** The British Library
**License:** Public Domain
**Source Link:** [https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:The_Making_of_Virginia_and_the_Middle_Colonies;_First_Colony_at_Roanoke.jpg Wikimedia Commons]
[[/div]]
[[div class="blockquote"]]
**Filename:** winter_village_rembrandt.png
**Author:** Rembrandt van Rijn
**License:** Public Domain
**Source Link:** [https://www.rijksmuseum.nl/en/collection/RP-T-1930-63 The Rijksmuseum]
[[/div]]

[[div class="blockquote"]]
**Filename:** Casey_Station.jpg
**Author:** Graham Denyer
**License:** CC-BY-SA 4.0
**Source Link:** [https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Casey_Station_November_2005.jpg Wikimedia Commons]
[[/div]]
=====
[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end]]

Manifest 390: History Hath Triumphed

Module Styles

Inline Styles

Includes

CSS Classes

Page Source