by R. W. Hughes
Twenty-Five
‘You were with my friend in Georgia, Captain Mclintosh were you not,’ said Douglas offering his hip flask, which the man politely refused.
‘Yes, I was most fortunate to serve alongside him.’
‘He has never discussed in great detail his exploits while there,’ replied Douglas, his curiosity aroused.
‘Well, I’m the man to tell you all about them, Douglas.’ He now took the flask that had been offered him and took a long swig, before handing it back. ‘Hair of the dog you know, and it keeps this cold night air off your chest. I sailed out on the very same ship as George. It was the “Prince of Wales” accompanied by the ship Periaguas on October 18th 1735. Our senior officer was a Captain George Dunbar. And the newly formed regiment consisted of both Jacobite sympathisers and supporters of the English Crown. On our arrival in the colony, we organised the men into teams and proceeded to build on the Alatamaha River banks a guardhouse and a battery for four cannons, store houses and several buildings for accommodation. This was the start of colony’s capital, New Inverness.
‘We followed this by erecting several buildings in what would be the start of several small towns called Augustas, Ebenezer and Fort Frederica on St Simons Island a few miles south of New Inverness. The progress in the construction of these projects greatly impressed the general when he visited the colony several months later, but constant military activity by the garrison in conflicts with the Spanish and their Indian allies gave your friend much valued experience as a leader and military tactician. He earned the respect of his men as a fighter by his actions, and he never hesitated from leading by example; he was always in the forefront of any engagement. But casualties were inevitable, and the general in ’37 managed to recruit forty-four more Highlanders who came with their families to settle in the colony.
‘Your friend’s experience as a lawyer was called upon on many occasions to arbitrate in minor disputes and offer his legal advice, and he was also in great demand to write letters home for many of the colonists were not well gifted in the art of correspondence.
‘In October of ’39, England declared war on Spain, and a month later, two Scots garrisoned on Amelia Island were ambushed and killed by Spanish Allied Indians, and their bodies mutilated. In retribution, we organised a force which was mobilised from Georgia along with support from an adjoining colony of South Carolina.’
At this point the captain stopped and gave a little cough. Douglas smiled and took the hint of again handing him the hip flask.
‘All this talking is thirsty work,’ he added as he handed back the flask before continuing with his story. ‘We attacked and captured the Spanish forts of Fort Picolata, Fort St Francis de Pupo, Fort San Diego, and Fort Mose, and then laid siege to Fort Augustine. We were eventually forced to retreat to Fort Mose, by the arrival of a large superior force of Spanish troops. In the ensuing battle, we lost fifty-one soldiers and militia, but we inflicted more than double that number of casualties on the opposition, and having given the Spanish a bloody nose, it led to a reasonable, though unsettled period of peace for the settlement and the surrounding area.
‘General Oglethorpe in ’41 applied and obtained further funding from the British government and managed to recruit a further forty-three troops and their families from Scotland to strengthen the garrison on Georgia. I remember George knowing and welcoming some of these families the McCoy, MacPhail, MacQue, all being associated with the MacKay clan. On July the 5th ’42, the Spanish governor of Florida, a Don Manuel de Montiano, raised a force of five thousand troops with the intention of invading Georgia. Opposing him was General Oglethorpe’s force consisting of regulars, militia, and native Indians numbering a total of under a thousand. The Spanish, with an armada of thirty-six ships, attempted a landing at Fort St Simons; the fort resisted with cannonade and prevented the landing near the fort. But they could not prevent the Spanish forces landing further up river at a place called Gascoigne Bluff.
‘Faced with this far superior force, the general ordered us to abandon the fort before the Spanish could mount an assault. I had taken a piece of shrapnel in the thigh and was being pushed in a hand cart as our troops made an orderly withdrawal.’ The Captain stopped and slapped his leggings with his stick before continuing. ‘Your friend George was the last to leave the fort. He managed with the battery commander, a Lieutenant Macoy, to spike the forts guns, and just as the Spanish troops battered down and entered through the main gate, he and Macoy slipped out of the rear entrance.’ The Captain again accepted the flask offered by Douglas and took a large drink before handing the empty container back to his companion, who by his unusual long spell of silence was obviously captivated by the story that filled in a large gap in his friend’s life that he had not been aware of.
‘The Spanish spent several weeks consolidating their position at the fort landing troops and supplies, before sending a large column to reconnoitre along the road in the direction of Fort Frederica. They were about one and half miles from this Fort at a place called Gully Hole Creek, when they came into contact with troops led by your friend, George, and a fellow officer, Nobel Jones. The Highland troops routed the Spanish killing or capturing a third of that force and then pursued the retreating Spanish, forcing several skirmishes on route. But on receiving information that a large force was advancing towards them from Fort St Simon, General Oglethorpe left to collect reinforcements. We, in the meantime, fell back and took up defensive positions behind trees in the edge of the forest forming a semi-circle around a large clearing, as the Spanish column entered the clearing before the order was given for us to open fire. Surprisingly the Spanish troops broke ranks, stacked their arms and started to prepare a midday meal.
We allowed them to stack their weapons and settle down, then even though we were outnumbered five to one, we opened fire catching the Spanish off-guard and continued firing multiple volleys from behind the protection of the trees. We inflicted a severe number of casualties with very little effective return fire from them. Several of the Spanish officers managed to organise a defensive line of their troops and return intermittent fire. It was at this point that your friend placed his bonnet on the tip of his broadsword and shouting his clan war cry and waving his sword above his head to the tune the MacKay “Quick Step” march from the Regimental piper, he led his troops in a Highland charge at the Spanish lines. I because of my previous wound was propped up against the trunk of a tree, and I had a clear view of the action unfolding before me.
I have never seen before or doubt if I will ever see again such a spectacle.
The Highland soldiers en-mass ran towards their enemy, stopped and fired their muskets which they then threw to the ground drawing their two pistols from their belts they continued their charge firing their pistols when in range. They then threw these weapons on the ground and drawing their broadsword and long dirk continued close to the Spanish soldiers. I have never seen such ferocious hand-to-hand fighting from the Highlanders. They cut through the Spanish lines like a hot knife through butter. Their onslaught forced the Spanish and their Indian allies to flee in all directions. They left the clearing strewn with their dead and dying Spanish soldiers and their Indian allies, and the nearby marsh where many were trapped was running red with their blood.
‘Yes, if there was any action taking place, you could lay odds that your friend George would be involved at some point. He did not seem to have any concept of fear, danger or death. The captain said the last sentence more to himself rather than to Douglas, and continued looking into the dark waters of the sea deep in thought.
The Captain’s statement confirmed what Douglas himself had thought, which was his friend George had been emotionally and mortally hurt at Fiona’s parent’s original decision to forbid their daughter to see him again. And the thought of not being able to see the women who he was so deeply in love with, and in order to try and forget his pain had taken a commission in the Highland R
egiment of Foot that were recruiting at that time in Inverness before it left for Georgia. But now hopefully all those pressures and conflicts had been left behind in their troubled homeland and he could look forward to a more settled life in Georgia with his new family.
The loud ringing of the ship’s bell brought both men back from their day dreaming to reality. It was then they realised there was an increase in the swell of the sea and a more pronounced roll with the ship, which had gone unnoticed during the telling of the story by Captain Mclintosh.
‘What is happening, Bosun?’ asked Captain Mclintosh as the sailor hurried past after ringing the ships bell.
‘There’s a squall building, Captain, and I’ve called out the crew to take in some of the sails. I suggest you gentlemen retire to your cabins until it blows over.’ The man then hurried off to oversee the crew that had appeared on the ships deck in response to the bell.
The squall, as the Bosun had described, was a storm that lasted all that night and most of the following day, a harsh baptism for the emigrating families’ first night on their journey to a new life.
It was late in that same afternoon that Douglas joined George on the poop deck of the ship, where he was in a conversation with the ship’s captain.
‘Aye, Douglas, the storm is abating, but we have not made much headway, as you can see on the horizon, we are still in sight of the Scottish mainland. We have lost contact with our animal transporter during the night. But Captain Murphy assures me the storm was not severe enough to damage that ship unduly,’ he quickly added in response to Douglas’s raised eyebrows. ‘He has also given orders to rig only half the sails to give the transporter an opportunity to make contact with us again.’
Douglas nodded in agreement and went down to join Captain Mclintosh who was putting the new recruits through their musket drill on the ships main deck.
‘Powder! Ram home! Wadding! Ram home! Ball! Ram home! Powder in bowl! Musket to shoulder!’
At this point the captain waited for the slowest members of the group to catch up with the others, and when all the line was pointing their muskets out to sea, he give the order: ‘Fire!’
The volleys were rather ragged as some of the men who had not fired a musket before were nervous of pulling the trigger. He went through this drill several times before standing the men to attention, and then walking down the front of the line, he touched several of the men on the shoulder with his walking stick.
‘You men so marked,’ he lifted his walking stick, will carry on practising loading and firing the musket under the supervision of Douglas Poulson. ‘The rest of you men will fall in at the far side of the deck where we will continue with bayonet practice.’
George from his position on the poop deck listened as the captain, in graphic detail, explained to the men the damage a bayonet, sword, or dirk would do by entering the flesh by just several inches, or the length of your finger, as he put it, to his listeners who were hanging on to his every word, as lunging in deeper and finding to your dismay that your blade was stuck in your opponent’s rib cage. Attached and hanging from the rigging was a straw-filled dummy with bright yellow markings, the captain explaining that they were the targets for their weapons.
George moved on down to the quarterdeck where he could watch and listen to the men below, from this vantage point, he could see most of the recruits had experience in loading and firing a musket, and these were the men who had associations with the MacKays and had signed up in the village of Tongue, along with the Jacobite rebels. All these had moved on to the bayonet training, and those that remained were from the prisoners delivered by the Redcoat soldiers, and it was obvious they had no previous experience of fire arms. One of these was the butcher who he recognised and the others were in the prison ship on civilian charges, either bankruptcy or even petty theft. It was these men as he watched Douglas slowly explain and demonstrate the loading procedure, that he mentally registered he would have to keep an eye on.
It was the following morning and the ship was still only travelling under half her sail power. He was standing with Douglas, on the poop deck from where they could hear below on the main deck, the recruits again going through their drill, but this time under the supervision of John MaKay.
‘Sail ahoy!’ the shout came from one of the sailors high in the ships rigging, looking up George could see the man pointing in the direction of the far horizon.
‘Good that could well be the animal transporter, if that is the case, she will be with us in a few hours,’ he said to Douglas who was standing by his side.
Climbing on to the lower stretches of rigging to obtain a better view, George adjusted his spyglass and focused on the point the sailor had indicated.
‘Is it the transport ship?’ shouted Douglas from several yards below.
‘Yes Douglas!’ George replied then climbed higher in the rigging stopped, and scanned all around the horizon. He then climbed still higher in the rigging and scanned the horizon again, stopping for a full half minute looking at one point in the distance exactly opposite the position of the transport ship. Slowly he returned and joined his friend before answering.
‘I think we may have problems, Douglas. Without creating any form of panic, quietly inform the senior members of our group, the ship’s captain and Captain Mclintosh to meet in my cabin as soon as possible; tell them it is urgent!’
Douglas started to say something, changed his mind and hurried off to carry out George’s instructions.
Ailie at George’s bidding had taken Fiona for a breath of air on deck, leaving the cabin free while he conducted his meeting, while eventually all the men he had asked managed to squeeze into the small room, curious at the reason for the urgency.
‘I apologise for your cramped conditions gentlemen, but I think at this early stage it is necessary we keep these discussions and the decision we arrive at, private.’ His opening statement had their immediate and full attention. He then continued. ‘There is a ship on the horizon.’
‘That is so,’ said Captain Murphy. ‘One of the sailors spotted the sails a short while ago; it is heading in our direction. It is our transport ship! It will be with us before dusk.’
‘That is correct, Captain. I also have been on the rigging and using my spyglass I too recognised the ship approaching us which is correct; it is the transport ship under full sail, but in the opposite direction, but much lower in the water also heading in our direction, is the ship used by the Barbary pirates, most likely the very same that attacked one of our coastal villages several weeks ago.’
At George’s statement, there was a deathly silence in the room. The ship’s captain was the first to react.
‘I will order full sails at once; if we can keep our distance until the light fails, we can lose them in the dark,’ he gasped and made as to leave.
‘Hold, Captain,’ shouted George above the hubbub of conversation that now engulfed the cabin, as Captain Murphy started to leave the cabin. ‘We may well escape, but our transport ship is in the vicinity and would be easy prey for this parasite of the sea. We would be condemning our friends and the transport ship’s crew to either death or a life of slavery. And to start our new life with that on our conscience, and without our livestock, seed and homely possessions would be a gruelling and bitter mental and physical struggle for all our families.’
‘Then what do you suggest as an alternative? We are an unarmed ship. We do not carry any cannon, and if we resist, they will just stand off and blast us at their will,’ replied the captain, a look of desperation in his eyes.
George looked around the room; all their eyes were now looking at him. ‘My plan is bold, but it can succeed if we keep our nerve.’
He continued to outline his plan, and with the backing of Captain Mclintosh and Douglas and the verbal support from Paul Aberach and George’s cousins, Donald MacKay and John McKay, all agreed. There was only the ship’s ca
ptain who was against the proposal when it came to a vote.
‘If your plan fails and is not successful, the pirates will stand off and blast my ship until it sinks to the bottom of the ocean, taking everyone with it.’
‘I understand your concern for the safety of your ship, Captain Murphy, but my companions and I have not left Scotland for this new land with the possibility of a shadow overhanging us that we stood by while our relations and friends were left to the mercy of these brigands. Nor do we wish to be enslaved to spend our lives in a pirate ship, never to see our families or know of their wellbeing or whereabouts.
If you are not with us, then you are against us, and will be chained in your own hold until this episode is finished.’
The captain was now red in the face and physically shaking with anger. ‘Sir!’ he shouted. ‘I may remind you that you and these other families are just passengers on this ship. If you continue to try and instigate this mad scheme, I will see to it that when we reach Georgia you are charged with inciting a mutiny against the authority on this ship which is me. Also, Captain Mclintosh is senior to you and he should be the one making these decisions and not you.’
George smiled at the captain’s outburst.
‘You forget, Captain; you are under the direct orders of General Oglethorpe, and he has appointed me as his representative to act on his behalf, and I have in my possession the documents from the English Parliament that confirms this.
‘For you to disobey my commands it would be considered an act of treason, and when we reach Georgia it will not be you accusing me of mutiny, but me laying charges and prosecuting you, and if you are found guilty, I will see to it that you will be hung by the neck until you are dead. The choice is yours, sir!
George’s statement even though it was presented in a quiet calm voice, took the captain by surprise. He had never been spoken to like this before, it was usually him that was giving the orders and being obeyed without question.