Broadsword

by R. W. Hughes

  ‘I will keep all informed here of what response we receive to our appeal to the English in Thurso. Now gentlemen, we still have much work to do clearing the rubble from the chapel.’

  The men slowly dispersed until there were only Riavach and himself left alone in the paddock.

  ‘While I was in Thurso I made enquiries of this Major Thornton, and it is the same Captain Thornton who owns an estate near the Priory where you and Douglas stayed the night, and then left with the thoroughbred horses.’

  He laughed out loud at the way Riavach had explained how he and Douglas had come so easily in possession of such beautiful animals.

  ‘You have done well, Riavach, to stop the Poulson clan from gathering a force and attacking Thurso, as they may well have succeeded in freeing Douglas and his fellow clansmen, but the consequences for those involved and their families from a vengeful English army does not bare thinking about. No! We have to be more subtle and cunning if we are to outwit this Major Thornton. It seems obvious that the assassin, Nicolas Duncan, is involved in the death of Magnus, but it looks bad for Douglas, and if we do not prove he is innocent of this charge, he will hang for the vile actions of that murderer.’

  He stopped looking out across the paddock for several minutes deep in thought. ‘And you say that the Sutherland raiding party never found the chest?’

  ‘That is the message Douglas passed on to Sithig before the arrival of the Redcoats. Also, the young stable boy, who was last seen with our uncle in the chapel, is still missing.’

  ‘We have much to discuss, brother, but first I most see Fiona. I have missed her most terribly in the week I have been away, but I will see you later at dinner and we will consider our options.’

  Both brothers kept the conversation as light as possible during dinner with Fiona and Ailie, remarking on how well the sale of the livestock and horses at Thurso market had gone and the sale of the thoroughbred horses at the auction on the opposite coast in Ullapool together there was sufficient to pay off their pressing debts and a good amount left in the kitty for any emergency that may arise.

  But as much as George and Riavach tried to avoid the subject, Ailie and Fiona were determined to have their say on the matter of Douglas’s imprisonment.

  ‘I will visit this English Major Thornton. He is a distant relative so I may be able to persuade him to be more lenient with Douglas and his drover, in view of Douglas and his clan’s past record of support for the English crown.’

  ‘And I will chaperone Fiona,’ said Ailie.

  ‘No, it is my duty to as head of the clan to travel to Thurso and bargain with this Major Thornton on behalf of clan members.’

  ‘You will have little success, my husband. You are already known to him as the man who spirited off his prospective betrothed, so he does not owe you any favours. And he, no doubt, has a description from the Mother Superior at the nunnery of the men lodging at the Priory shortly before his horses were stolen. Individually, you and Douglas, would not arise his suspicions, but if he associates you both together, and then makes further enquiries, he will find you both suddenly appeared back in the Highlands with thoroughbred horses. Your days of freedom would be numbered, you would be hunted over the Highlands and would find yourself either dead or chained alongside those other prisoners on the prison ship sailing to the Caribbean.’

  Riavach interrupted. ‘What Fiona says makes sense, George. The risk is not worth taking, and I have met this Major Thornton and he is no dimwit. The clan needs your leadership in these troubled times and Fiona needs her husband beside her when she gives birth to your child.’

  Georges head was furrowed deep in thought as he absorbed what his wife and Riavach had suggested.

  ‘What you all say makes sense, but you forget my wife’s condition,’ he said. But Fiona was not going to give up that easily.

  ‘There is no one else who the Major would even give an audience to, and even if I cannot change my cousin’s decision, I may well be able to glean some information of when he expects the sentence on Douglas to be carried out and when the prison ship is due to sail. Douglas was a good a friend to me as he has been a loyal friend to you, and it is no hardship for me carrying our child who is many months away from entering this world to try to the best of my ability to keep Douglas in the same world as our child.’

  He knew from the past how stubborn his wife could be and realised he had lost the argument. ‘Then that is decided,’ he said, raising his hands in a gesture of defeat.

  ‘Thank you, George,’ said Fiona, coming to his side and kissing him lightly on the lips. ‘Ailie and I will leave at first light in the morning.’

  ‘And I will escort you. I need to survey this prison ship and how it is guarded, because if all else fails, we will have to use force to release Douglas and his clansmen. I cannot leave the Clan Poulson to raid Thurso on their own in an attempt to release Douglas and their fellow clansmen. It would end up as a blood bath, and the end repercussions on all of the MacKays would be a disaster. None of the Jacobite clans would raise their banner in our favour, and the surrounding loyalist clans would delight to take the opportunity and settle old scores with us, especially if they had the support of the English army. I suggest we all retire to our beds. We have an early start in the morning and a long journey ahead of us. Fortunately, I think the weather is settled and will be kind to us.’

  More than the reception we could expect in Thurso if the English suspect our intentions. He had suggested an early night for all the others but he knew that he had too many problems running in circles around in his brain to have a good night’s undisturbed sleep. In his heart of hearts, he knew no matter how hard Fiona pleaded with her distant cousin, it was most unlikely that his authority could overrule a decision taken by a military court.

  All this flashed through his mind as he assisted Fiona on their way up the wide staircase to their bedroom. The following morning broke clear and cold, and just before dawn started to rise over the village, Fiona and Ailie were already in the small two wheeled covered buggy, and well wrapped in heavy woollen blankets, with two of the larger horses in harness as George joined them. He also was wrapped in a thick woollen tartan shawl to protect him against the bitter cold on the long, exposed journey to Thurso.

  At least it will be a faster journey than the last time we travelled this road. He thought as he pulled the woollen shawl tighter around his shoulders. The severe frosts over the last few days have frozen the ground so our buggy will not be up to its axle in mud like part of our previous nightmare of a journey.

  As early as it was, Sithig and his wife Glamis were there to see they had a hot breakfast before departing, and Riavach joined them to wave the small party off as it swung under a stone archway and out of the small courtyard of Tongue House, and onto the road through the village just as dawn was breaking with George riding one of the buggies’ team of horses.

  Even though they made good time, it had been a hard, bumpy ride and he was having concerns for the health of Fiona and their unborn child, cursing himself for being persuaded to allow her on this journey, when he should have refused point blank and insisted that in her condition she should have stayed in the comparative warmth and comfort of Tongue House. As they approached the small town of Melvich, he decided he would be firm and insist no matter how they disagreed that they would stay here for the night. Turning to face the buggy and using his most authoritative tone, he issued his instructions. ‘I think it will be most prudent to stay here in Melvich for the night, the light will be fading shortly and the temperature is already dropping.’

  He sat back on his horse awaiting the expected objections, but surprising none came. So, guiding the horses he led the way to the local tavern that also doubled as a staging point for passengers of the coach. That is when it was operating before the troubles and unrest had swept the country and as yet it had not started again, so he knew they should have no prob
lem finding rooms for the night.

  The evening meal prepared by the landlord’s wife was plain but hot and wholesome; it consisted of a venison stew with parsnip, swede, and potatoes with warm freshly baked bread. They were the only lodgers in the tavern that night and he was quick to observe that no locals were at the bar. They ate their meal in front of a peat fire, and because of the intense cold on their journey, the heat in the room had turned their faces a bright red, to the great amusement of both Fiona and Ailie.

  On entering their bedroom, they were pleasantly surprised that a peat fire had also been prepared and was burning merrily in the small grate set in the corner of the room. Turning back the bedclothes Fiona also discovered a copper long-poled bed warmer; it had been placed there by the landlady, seeing Fiona’s condition she had also gone to the trouble to warm her bed.

  The following morning as he was checking their horses, the landlord approached carrying a pail of fresh water for the animals, giving him the opportunity to obtain some information from one man in the village that usually knew everything that was happening in the area.

  ‘Good morning to you, landlord. I wish to thank you for the home comforts of last night.’

  ‘It’s my wife you must thank.’

  George nodded and watched as he poured the water in the trough for the ponies.

  ‘You seemed very quiet last evening, landlord, not many locals at your bar.’ The landlord was silent for a long time before replying.

  ‘The men in the village stay in their homes; it is safer for them there. You are a MacKay! You supported the Crown during the conflict; you and yours may not at the moment be treated as bad as we are by the Redcoats and Hanovian troops based at Thurso and brought in by the English Butcher Cumberland. They evicted the Laird because of his Jacobite sympathies and are using his castle as their headquarters, but mark my words, your turn will come. They treat us like animals! They insult our women and provoke our men, they take our cattle and sheep as paltry fines, the slightest response to their provocation and we are thrown in the jail and then moved to that stinking prison ship moored in Thurso harbour.’

  George was taken back by the bitterness in the man’s voice. He had not been aware that those clans that had leanings in favour of the Prince even though they were never involved in any of the conflicts were being treated so badly by the occupying English army.

  The landlord continued to give George instances in their area, and also tales from travellers of the brutality of the soldiers in other parts of the Highlands. When the landlord left the barn, he left George sitting on the upturned pail deep in thought, feeling extremely unsettled after his conversation with the proprietor.

  A short while later they were on the road again with a small hamper of food provided by the landlady lying by their feet in the well of the buggy. They arrived in Thurso by late morning and were stopped along with several other travellers at the gateway to the town, by two sentries and a young ensign.

  ‘I wish to know your reason for this visit,’ the young officer tersely asked of the ladies in the cab, completely ignoring George mounted on one of the buggy horses.

  ‘We wish to see your commanding officer, Major Thornton. I am a relation of his,’ responded Fiona. George smiled as the trainee officer’s attitude immediately changed, and he snapped to attention. ‘The commander is on patrol, ma’am, and will not be returning until the morrow.’

  ‘Thank you, soldier,’ replied Fiona closing the carriage curtain on the young subordinate.

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ he stuttered, saluting the small carriage as George directed it passed the gate. After arranging accommodation for them all and seeing that Fiona and Ailie were comfortable in their rooms and the animals would receive attention, he decided now would be an appropriate time knowing that Major Thornton would not be in residence, to inspect where the English Redcoats were billeted in Thurso Castle which overlooked the estuary of the River Thurso.

  He was stopped at the main gate by the guards and while the Sergeant sent one of the soldiers to enquire if an appointment could be made for Fiona and Ailie to see the commander, he watched a squad of foreign troops going through their bayonet drill on the stone flagged surface of the courtyard. Also standing watching were several off-duty English Redcoats, with a young cadet a few yards behind the group. He moved alongside the young boy.

  ‘Tell me soldier, who are those troops drilling in the courtyard?’

  The young boy soldier looked slightly alarmed at being approached by this Highlander, glancing nervously in the direction of the nearby group of Redcoats with their backs to them who were continuing talking and joking amongst themselves.

  ‘They are Hessian troops, sir; they come from Germany and Austria,’ replied the young bugler nervously edging away from him, embarrassed at being spoken to by a Highlander, and obviously frightened at the possibility of being seen in his company. George continued to watch the bayonet practice with interest; he had heard rumours of the effect of this action that had blunted the final charge of the Princes Highland Jacobite’s which had forced them to withdraw in disorder.

  The young lad moved farther away putting a discreet distance between him and George. Several minutes later he was approached by the sergeant who led him to a small office with several clerks at their desks. The junior officer who listened to his request for an appointment refused out of hand when he heard the reasons, saying he was under instructions and the court’s decision was final. But George had trained as a lawyer and was prepared to use any loophole at his disposal, and continuing in his attempt to make an appointment for Fiona to see the major.

  ‘My wife is a relation of the major and for you to refuse such a request without first consulting your commanding officer, may be considered by him that you have exceeded your authority.’

  The junior officer pondered for a few moments before replying. ‘The major is away on patrol and will not be returning until later this afternoon, and would not be free until the following day, if the lady in question would return then, I would have had the opportunity to have approached the major and will be able then to give the lady his decision. The sergeant will now escort you off the premises.’ Having felt he had been outmanoeuvred, the officer spun on his heel and left the room, leaving George in the custody of the sergeant.

  The sergeant pushed George roughly in front of him as they went along the corridor back into the courtyard. As they passed the group of Redcoats still watching the Hessian troops drilling, the sergeant muttered loud enough for the soldiers and George to hear, ‘Scottish scum!’ which brought sniggers from several of the group. As George stopped suddenly, the sergeant stumbled into him cursing loudly, as George turned to face him, the man quickly stepped back an evil grin showing yellow and blackened teeth.

  He is trying to provoke me, thought George, his discussion with the landlord at their lodgings that morning had enlightened and pre-warned him to this fact. During the rest of their journey he had wrestled with this and other instances he had been made aware of, that the English soldiers were using the flimsiest of excuses and going out of their way to arrest and throw into jail any Scotsmen that in their opinion had broken the new Martial Laws that had been imposed, and posted in every street and in every town and village in Scotland. George had come to the same conclusion as the landlord. That, whether or not, you had been supporters of the Crown or a Jacobite, you were all in their eyes potential rebels, and the English army under the Duke of Cumberland with the backing of the English Parliament, had decided they would dismantle the existing clan system and with the new laws they were enforcing they had set out their stall to systematically break the spirit of the Scottish people to stop them ever again being an independent nation. And this man is willing me to assault him, he his even slobbering at the mouth in anticipation.

  All this flashed through his mind as he looked into the eyes of the Sergeant.

  He then stepped
backwards two paces, smiled at the sergeant, who now looked a little crestfallen that his prey had not fallen for the bait. Turning, he quickly made his way past the two guards that had been watching the proceedings, and no doubt ready to intervene if he had succumbed to the temptation of smashing his fist into the grinning sergeant’s face.

  On his return to their lodgings, his sister informed him that Fiona was resting, so he decided to take the opportunity to stroll down to the docks and inspect the prison ship that Douglas and the members of the MacKay clan along with the many other Highlanders were to be imprisoned. He found an elevated sheltered spot out of the bitter wind that was blowing along the quays, which also give him a good view of the ship and its decks. The ship itself had seen much better days and there were many repairs to the hull that could be seen that stood out from the rest of the ship’s structure. He also noticed that the ship’s gun ports had been boarded over and there were several extra scatter guns situated as to cover the decks and the ship’s gangplank. He noticed these scatter guns had a tarpaulin over there mechanism possibly to keep the powder dry, so he concluded they were primed and ready for instant action. There were no sailors on the decks, only Redcoats posted in pairs near the scatter guns, and also at the bottom of the gangplank leading to the ship.

  Also anchored in the harbour and facing broadside to the prison ship was the British frigate, HMS Sheerness. It was now low tide and exposed where the river entered the harbour was a line of stepping stones used by pedestrians to cross the river rather than walk the half mile to the bridge further upstream. As he was absorbing the layout of the area, eight soldiers led by an officer marching to the beat of a drum, carried by the young cadet he had spoken to earlier, made their way from the gates of the castle along the opposite quay and crossed the river by the stepping stones, then returned on his side of the quay to where the prison ship was moored.