Broadsword

by R. W. Hughes

  ‘There be two large ships in the Kyle of Tongue!’ he managed to blurt out between gasps.

  ‘Two ships in the Kyle?’ repeated the Reverend in disbelief.

  ‘Aye!’ responded Sithig, still struggling to regain his breath.

  ‘Did the messenger say what flags the ships were flying?’ gasped George.

  ‘Horseman arrived from Kyle with the message from Hugh MacKay, what I tell ye that’s all the youth tell me,’ repeated Sithig, having now regained his breath a little.

  ‘I have been to Hugh MacKay’s farm and it overlooks the Kyle at Tongue, he has a grand view of the entire bay,’ continued the Reverend.

  ‘Whoever or whatever the nationality of the ships, we must be prepared,’ said George as he rose. ‘I will question the messenger to see if he as any further information, then ride to Kyle and see the situation for myself. I will take Douglas, and he can return with instructions as and when I assess the danger. In the meantime, Uncle, if you could inform the men billeted at Tongue and then send word out to the outlying farms for a muster.’

  ‘What do you wish me to do George?’ shouted Riavach after George and Douglas who were pounding down the narrow stairs.

  ‘You will need to issue all of them with extra powder and shot; two ships can carry a lot of armed men,’ he shouted back to his brother as he continued his hurried decent down the stairs. ‘Oh, and ask Sithig to saddle all the horses.’

  ‘If it is the French invasion force, we will be hard pressed to hold them with the men at our disposal,’ exclaimed Douglas as they saddled their horses. ‘The messenger could give us no more information with regards the ships nationality, so if it is as you suspect, an invasion, they will have cannons at their disposal, and more boats could well be on their way.’

  George made no comment; these thoughts had already passed through his mind.

  Two ships could only mean an invasion force with more to follow; he was now debating with himself the best way to launch an attack, if such an attack was at all possible. The tide was out now, so only a ship with a shallow draught could enter any great distance into the bay. Should he allow the French to partly disembark and catch them with half their force on the shore with the rest on board ship? But then if he did not surprise them and engage them in hand-to-hand fighting quickly, they could call upon their ship’s cannon to assist them. The alternative was to allow them to unload and attempt an ambush when the terrain suited him and they did not have the advantage of their cannons. This also gave him time to muster a larger force than the present one billeted and available from Tongue House. He may, though it would leave a foul taste in his mouth be forced to call on the Sutherlands for assistance.

  The messenger, when questioned, knew no more than what he had told Sithig, so having saddled their horses, both men along with the messenger rode off in the direction of the Kyle of Tongue, leaving Sithig and his young assistance preparing the other horses. They soon left the messenger struggling to keep pace with his small pony against the long strides of the thoroughbred horses. They had little to say on their journey as both were contemplating what would await them as they approached the natural sheltered harbour to the west of the small hamlet of Tongue.

  They were still out of sight of the bay when they were met by Hugh MacKay.

  ‘Good day to you, gentlemen,’ said Hugh looking up at George and Douglas on their much larger horses.

  ‘Good day, Hugh. I believe you have visitors,’ replied George with a friendly smile.

  ‘Indeed we have! Two ships, one flying French colours as run itself aground on the shallows at Mellness, the other ship is standing off in deeper water, but it is too far out for me to make out its colours.’

  ‘Take me to your vantage point, Hugh and I will try with my spyglass to make out the other ship, then we may be able to fit together the pieces in this puzzle.’

  Reaching the headland and sitting on his horse to obtain a better view he extended his spyglass, then after a moment handed it to Douglas laughing out loud as he did so. Douglas quickly viewed the ship out in the bay, then handed it to Hugh, then looking at George’s smiling face, exclaimed in disbelief, ‘Well I would nether have believed it possible.’

  ‘It’s an English Man-of-War,’ exclaimed Hugh, the spyglass still fixed to his eye.

  ‘It’s standing off in deep water; it’s fired one of its cannons!’ he exclaimed excitedly, as the distant sound of the explosion reached the men, and even from that distance from their vantage point they could see the puff of white smoke appear from the side of the ship. All eyes were now focused on the French ship, as after a few seconds, a fountain of water erupted fifty yards short of the stranded vessel.

  ‘The English frigate must be lying deeper in the water than the Frenchie; it can’a risk coming any closer as its charts must show the sand bank across the bay. The Frenchie was lucky to clear the bank,’ voiced Hugh with the spyglass still to his eye.

  ‘They were indeed lucky they had the tide in their favour,’ voiced George.

  ‘There seems a lot of activity on their deck though,’ shouted Hugh, as he switched to looking at the French ship. ‘I can make out its name, Le Prince Charles.’

  Several minutes later there was a crack of cannon fire from the French ship as it responded to the English frigate.

  ‘That’s dropped short, too,’ exclaimed Hugh as he switched to looking at the English ship. ‘I think I can make out its name. H.M.S. S-H-E-E-RNESS. Yes! That’s what it reads, HMS Sheerness.’

  Both Douglas and George looked at one another and smiled. Several minutes later, and there was another puff of smoke and the crack of cannon as the English frigate fired again. But this time smoke appeared from the gun port nearest the water line and the cannon ball skipped several times across the water but still stopped well short by twenty yards or more.

  ‘Well you have to give the English captain his due,’ said George. ‘He is certainly trying everything he knows.’

  ‘I don’a understand,’ exclaimed Douglas sounding mystified, as Le Prince Charles’s cannon again replied. ‘Why are they wasting powder and shot when they are both out of range?’

  ‘Well, Douglas,’ answered George, ‘the English captain’s ship takes a deeper draught than the Prince Charles so he can’a come closer or he too would be stranded. The Prince Charles is firing its cannon to warn off the frigate from attempting to send longboats to try and board their vessel, so the situation is a stalemate at the moment. And it looks to me as if we could be the key players in this game of chess.’

  ‘It will be dark within the hour,’ commented Hugh as he handed the spyglass back to George. ‘There are French soldiers on the deck of French ship, and more are coming out of the hold,’ said George as he looked through the glass.

  ‘The men we have billeted at Tongue House may not be enough in number to take this prize,’ he said more to himself that to his two companions. ‘I think, Hugh, if you place scouts here to keep us informed of the actions of the French, in the meantime, Douglas and I will return to Tongue and get ourselves organised as quickly as possible.’

  They left Hugh in charge of keeping watch over the Prince Charles and the activities going on around the bay, and followed by Douglas, he galloped off in the direction of Tongue where he knew men would be now arriving in response to the call to the muster.

  It was dark when George and Douglas eventually arrived back in Tongue to a hive of activity in the hamlet. Riavach from the village blacksmith’s workshop, which he had commandeered for the purpose, was issuing powder and shot to the new arrivals who lived close by and were the first to answer the muster. Their uncle was directing the men to the barns where they would spend the night, the same accommodation used for the wedding guests. The smell of food was coming from a large cauldron suspended over an open fire which was situated in the centre of the village. From this, the kitchen staff from Tongue H
ouse were spooning large portions of hot broth into wooden bowls, and issuing large chunks of warm freshly baked bread to the large group of men surrounding them.

  He directed his horse across the village green and pulled up beside the blacksmiths attracting his brother’s attention.

  ‘How many have answered the muster, Riavach?’ he shouted above the hub of conversation from the men receiving their powder and shot.

  ‘Messengers have been sent to the parishes of Eddrachillis, Durness, Farr, Reay, and Kildonan and they have not returned yet. We have thirty men from the garrison billeted at Tongue, twenty more have reported in recently from the surrounding area, and more are coming in ones and twos all the time.’

  He raised his hand in acknowledgement to his brother’s reply, then turned his horse and followed by Douglas they made their way towards the stables of Tongue House.

  It was the early hours of the morning before he had, with the assistance of Douglas and his brother Riavach, armed and billeted all the local men who had responded to the muster, and he could slip between the sheets of his bed and cuddled up to the warm form of Fiona.

  He had been in a long conversation with his uncle, Douglas and Riavach where they had considered all the options available to them. Making contact with the British frigate in the hope the ship was carrying soldiers was one, as they would be helpful in any conflict with the French forces. But it would be daylight before a boat could safely approach the British Man-of-War, and to attempt such an act at night would risk being blown out of the water by the ship’s cannons. Even though it had been a long hard and tedious day, he was finding it difficult to sleep; his brain was still too active, going over in his mind the possible actions that may be taken by the French crew and the soldiers on board that ship, and the options that would be then available to him.

  He was up and dressed before first light, leaving Fiona still sleeping. Not wishing to disturb her, he made his way quietly out of their bedroom and down to the ground floor. On entering the kitchen, he was met by the warm air from the large open fire with the cauldron of hot porridge simmering above the flames, and Douglas seated at the large table with the stable hand Sithig. Both were being served bowls of the thick steaming liquid by Glamis, Sithig’s wife.

  ‘I will join you gentlemen, as your fayre looks most appealing,’ he said sitting beside Sithig.

  ‘I recall you coming into this very kitchen as a bairn,’ said Glamis. ‘It seems just like yesterday.’ She placed a steaming bowl of porridge in front of him.

  ‘Yes, Glamis! Your kitchen was the warmest place in the house on those winter mornings,’ he replied with affection as he stirred a spoonful of honey into his bowl of porridge, remembering as a child leaving his warm bed, and slipping down from his cold bedroom to the warm comforting kitchen and the ever-burning peat kitchen fire.

  He had just finished his porridge and was considering the offer of a second helping from the smiling Glamis when Riavach burst into the kitchen.

  ‘Hugh MacKay is here with several of his men. The French are on the move,’ he blurted. ‘They disembarked during the night, a large force of soldiers and sailors.’

  ‘Calm down Riavach,’ he replied in a soothing voice, seeing his brother’s wild eyes and agitated actions.

  ‘Did Hugh say how many had left the ship and in what direction they are heading!’ exclaimed Douglas, as he rose quickly from the table.

  ‘Two hundred and taking the road for Inverness,’ replied Riavach now in a much calmer voice.

  ‘The most we have available to intercept them if we leave at once will be about eighty armed men,’ said George, his mind working on a plan as he spoke.

  ‘If we delay and wait for further men, we risk losing the chance to intercept them before they leave our lands. We will be hard pressed to stop them in a frontal attack, but that may be necessary if all else fails. I think we have to try and deceive them into thinking we are a much larger force than we actually are.’

  ‘You sound as if you have a plan, George,’ said Douglas knowing of old how his friends brain worked.

  ‘Yes, but speed is of the essence, so we leave at once. You, Riavach, will stay at Tongue and as men arrive from the outlying areas, supply them with powder and shot, form them into groups of six or more, and then send them to follow us to Drum-Nan-Coup. Meanwhile, send Hugh MacKay and all the men here that are on foot there as well, with instructions to make as much speed as possible. Douglas and I will follow with the mounted men as quickly as we can saddle the horses.’

  George and Douglas went quickly to collect their arms, and George to say his farewell to Fiona while Sithig hurried to the stables as fast as his old legs would carry him. Riavach, following George’s instructions, went to send Hugh MacKay with the men assembled outside of Tongue House in the direction of the area known as Drum-Nan-Coup.

  Within half an hour of the MacKay main force leaving on foot, both he and Douglas, with men mounted on horses, had joined them. He calculated his forces available; he had ten mounted men on horses that had followed him from Tongue along with Hugh MacKay and his three mounted men and Douglas and himself on their horses made sixteen mounted men. Marching briskly beside them he had sixty-four well-armed Highlanders, barely sufficient for the plan he had in mind. He sent Douglas ahead to make contact with the French force, and was relieved on his return to find that he would reach Drum-Nam-Coup before the much slower moving French column.

  The track taken by the French passed between a series of hills, and it was here where he split his force by placing groups of men concealed behind the boulders and gorse of these hills that overlooked the track. The mounted men, under the leadership of Douglas, were instructed to ride in a large circle and take up defensive positions behind the French column and be prepared to fire upon them when the fighting started and to impede any attempt of their withdrawal. He decided that his cousin, Hugh, who could speak a little French, would stand in the centre of the track with him.

  As the column of French soldiers approached from around the bend, they were halted by their officer as he observed the two Highlanders in the centre of the track blocking his way.

  ‘Bonjour Capatain!’ said Hugh as the French officer leading the column of soldiers approached and stopped in front of the two Highlanders.

  ‘Bonjour, may I enquire if you are friend or foe?’ he said.

  ‘We are your foe and you are surrounded by a superior force, mon Capatain, I suggest you now surrender and save heavy casualties to the men in your column.’

  ‘Non! Non! Was the reply as Hugh’s poor translation was absorbed by the French officer, as he about turned and quickly moved back towards his soldiers shouting instructions as he joined them. By the time he and Hugh had returned to their own men and taken up their own defensive position, the French column had quickly formed into lines, but because the track was narrow at that point and the embankments at either side were quite steep, the line of soldiers were only ten-wide but very deep and compact. Led by their officers and with their muskets facing the low hills concealing the Highlanders, the soldiers moved forward at a fast pace.

  ‘Fire at will,’ George shouted to the group of men around him, taking aim at one of the officers and pulling the trigger of his musket at the same time.

  The scattered volley that followed from his well-concealed companions left several gaps in the French line, but as the smoke cleared, George could see his target was still standing and encouraging his troops forward. The return volley from the French soldiers at the front line left no causalities amongst George’s well protected Highlanders, their tartan cloak acting as camouflage as they sheltered behind the boulders and ferns of the hillside.

  ‘They are finding it difficult to bring all their muskets to bear!’ shouted Hugh to George as the troops continued to move forward encouraged by their officers.

  ‘And there’s no obvious targets for their return f
ire,’ he shouted back in reply as he reloaded his musket from behind the shelter of a large boulder, and joined in another scattered volley from the hill which left further gaps in the advancing soldier’s line. These gaps were quickly being replaced by the men behind, with the return fire from the French doing little damage simply ricocheting off the rocks sheltering the MacKays. It was at this point that the group of Highlanders from their hidden positions to the left of the French fired a volley into the compact group of soldiers below them, and more gaps appeared in their flank. This followed by continuous musket fire from the Highlanders on the unprotected soldiers, plus the cries of their own wounded were beginning to unnerve the French soldiers.

  The distant sound of drums and pipes coming towards them from the steep pass of Duag at the west shoulder of Ben-Lyall, echoing between the mountain give the impression to the French of another large force advancing towards them, and a volley of musket fire into their rear ranks from the dismounted Highlanders led by Douglas was the final straw for the faltering soldiers.

  ‘They are falling back in disorder, George!’ shouted Hugh as the French troops turned and stumbled down the hill and back along the track followed by another ragged volley from the muskets of the MacKay clan who were now cheering and chanting their war cry.

  The French soldiers were dropping their muskets and raising their arms in surrender.

  ‘There’s a messenger and an officer approaching with a white flag; I think they have surrendered,’ yelled Hugh above the cheering of the Highlanders.

  ‘Then you can have the honour of accepting their commanding officer’s sword,’ George shouted back. ‘Then we must disarm the soldiers as quickly as possible and keep the officers apart from their men.’

  While Hugh accepted the officer’s sword, George organised the Highlanders who quickly collected the crestfallen soldier’s weapons and herded them into a large group. Douglas arrived with his now mounted men who had rounded up some of the French soldiers who had fled in panic down the path, and they too were placed with the main group of prisoners, who in the meantime were being searched by the Highlanders for any weapons or any personal items of value.