Ram; being the tale of one Ramillies Anstruther, 1704-55 ..

by Taylor, Winchcombe

  "The Hanoverians are as legitimate and as English as the Stuarts —which is precious little. No, if we must rebel, God's name, let it be for an Englishman."

  "If you're not for James," Ram probed, unconvinced, "why do you usually vote against the Ministry?"

  "Against Walpole's gang, you mean. True. But I want George to remain king. James hasn't the philosophy of Henry of Navarre, who thought Paris worth a mass. He hopes to force us all back to being Papists—which would mean bloody civil war. Damme, remember the '15 rising? The Scots were slaughtered in his cause then, and he, who'd not come till it was near over, thought it their sacred duty to go on being slaughtered while he scurried back to France."

  He glanced at Ferguson by the fire. "Why do ye suppose there are so many of 'em in Carolina? Because many arrived as transported rebels. Some returned after the Act of Grace in '17, but most stayed because there was nothing left for them in their ravaged land. Good men they are, yet heartsick—and homesick. But James sleeps none the worse for that."

  Though now almost convinced. Ram persisted: " 'Tis strange you differ so much from your family."

  "Not so strange. Ram. I might today be as scheming as my sisters, had I not come hot from using my sword under a foreign prince— Eugene—and he cared not if a man was Papist or Protestant. Besides, there's no generosity in James's soul. Even the Pope was distressed by his bigotry—and lack of political sense!" he smiled. "Did ye know, if Theo dies without male issue, I'll be a peer of the realm—James's realm? Aye, he created Theo Baron Oglethorpe of Oglethorpe. For so nebulous a reward must I plot my country's ruin?"

  His tone warmed. "Britain's not perfect, but her destiny lies ahead. Think how we've challenged mighty Spain and France, and not always lost. Already our American colonies stretch from Canada to this

  very island, infants still, but growing into lusty sons. 'Tis why I'm here; to open more land to our people, to give work to the needy and a competence when their labor has earned it. But d'ye think James could understand that dream?"

  Ram caught his excitement. "But what faces us, with Spain at our front door and France at our back?"

  "Beat 'em! Otherwise they'll overrun us and after us the other colonies. It's because of that I asked you to make this trip, to give you orders. I must return to report to my fellow trustees—aye, and to look to my Parliament seat or Bob Walpole will find a way to oust me— but Savannah's established now, and you and Fort Argyle guard it from the south. Yet suppose you're taken by surprise? You're so close that the town would have scant warning. So we'd best push our defenses farther south till they're next the Spaniards' very outposts.

  "Ram, I count on you. Carolina's governor commands our militia, but I'll arrange that, under him, you're my deputy in military matters. Use tact, for already proud-stomached Carolinians look down on our poor Georgians. Play politician with 'em."

  "In India I learned how to flatter a man's vanity, yet get my own way," Ram reassured. "But why can't troops be sent from home? I fear the Independents at Beaufort will fail us if we're attacked."

  "Patience! In time we'll have regular foot here, but first I must convince Walpole and Parliament. Now, let's sleep."

  They continued south next day. Soundings showed that a loo-ton vessel could sail wherever they had. They reached Sansimona, which Oglethorpe Anglicized as St. Simon's Island, and went ashore. Its western edge was lapped by the outpourings of the big Altamaha River which, Ram knew, was Georgia's southmost boundary.

  "We must insure no Spaniards come sailing past here to ravage your fine new home or Savannah," Oglethorpe decided. "Where would you say is a likely fort site?"

  They found one on the island's southern tip, where guns could command part of the inland way, as well as a narrow sound, across which lay smaller Ospu Island. This last Oglethorpe named Jekyll, after his friend and political ally, Sir Joseph Jekyll. "It won't make him any weaker in our interests," he predicted.

  "Do you think to occupy it too?" Ram demanded, aware it lay south of the Georgia grant.

  "Not with barely five hundred souls in the whole colony. Later, who knows? The Spanish could make a post here untenable."

  "Since it's theirs, they doubtless would."

  "Theirs? All Georgia's theirs, they claim—and even north of Charles Town. But we claim Florida to below St. Augustine, which Drake took one hundred and fifty years ago. That's for governments to haggle over. Let us insure the Dons are kept far enough from our settlements so they can't come again with their Indians to raid and scalp."

  As the scout boat turned back north. Ram was worried. Walpole would do anything to avoid war, and the other trustees thought of the colony onl}' as a land to people with broken men; yet the Squire planned to occupy recognized Spanish territory. W^y—to invite a retaliation that could destroy Georgia? Suspicion sprouted anew.

  But when he tried to draw him out, Oglethorpe said sharply: "Our colonies must breathe. The French in Canada control the Mississippi down to its mouth, and so join the Spaniards on our southern flank. We're boxed in. Eventually we must break through the cordon—or perish!"

  After being Ram's guest at Shoreacres overnight, he continued up the Ogeechee to Fort Argyle, to which he planned to send some families of Trust servants as settlers to grow crops for the garrison

  He wrote to Ram in April from Charles Town that he was sailing for England, taking with him Tomochichi, Toonaho^vi, Hillispilli and other Creeks, besides Musgrove as interpreter. Also, he had just welcomed a group of refugee Protestants from Salzburg, who would make fine colonists. He ended with: "That rogue Bacon's been here lately. Should he come to Savannah, have the bailiffs take him up and try him as a spy."

  CHAPTER 17 GEORGIA COLONY,

  1734-36

  As Oglethorpe's military deputy, Ram had necessarily to leave the improving of Shoreacres to Rob and Joseph, while he himself was away inspecting the colony's militia and defenses.

  On his frequent visits to Savannah, Lucinda always accompanied him, for having now overcome her terror, she delighted in holding court in their town house, where the latest-arrived settlers could tell her of London's current modes and scandals. She really blossomed, however, whenever he had to go to Charles Town to consult with Governor Johnson, since South Carolinian society proved to be most hospitable to handsome Captain Anstruther and his beautiful lady.

  But then Rob again developed woman trouble. After seeming content for so long with Nell as his "housekeeper," he was now casting sheep's eyes at Margot, who was definitely not repelling him.

  No indentured servant, Margot received £15 sterhng a year, besides Lucinda's discarded clothes. Though Ram had always thought the Frenchwoman self-seeking and avaricious, he felt that should she surrender to Rob it was their private affair. But already Nell had got wind of it and, outraged, was threatening to murder "t'foreign bitch." She meant it, so Ram knew he must take action.

  He found a way: Kennedy O'Brien, a Carolina Irishman, had lately founded a trading post far up the Savannah on the Georgia side. Other traders were making it their base, whence they traveled far into Indian country; so the trustees had ordered Captain Mackay's Company there, to keep order and to prevent any incursion of the French at Mobile. Having long wanted to inspect Augusta, as the post was

  called, Ram now decided that, to get Rob away from both women, he'd establish him there to sell the trade goods that moved so slowly at Shoreacres. Early in summer, therefore, he loaded Peg-Leg's piragua with them and began the long journey.

  Visiting several new settlements as he went, he reached Fort Palach-ocolas on the Carolina side. Its garrison consisted of rangers under Aeneas Mackintosh, whose brother, a lieutenant in Lord Montague's Foot, was laird of Clan Mackintosh which had suffered so terribly by coming out for the Pretender in 1715.

  Aware that Ram was Oglethorpe's friend and had also explored much of the new colony, Aeneas asked his thoughts as to its future and if white men could labor and keep healthy in its climate, especially in the south. "
Many of my clan write asking if there's free land there," he explained. "But feeling dies hard in the Highlands, and they don't know if there'd be a welcome for them in George's new colony, since they rose against him not long since."

  "The trustees frown only on Papists, and even they are winked at," Ram reassured him. "I'd say your friends would be most welcome. Oglethorpe's bound to speak for them, for we sadly lack men of fighting breed who can also make a settlement and farm."

  The Scot sighed with relief. "Man, there's many who'd bring families and servants, but they've no money. If the trust would pay the passage and subsist 'em awhile, they'll come gladly."

  Leaving him encouraged. Ram went on. It was pleasant going and, though not a soul was met in the 200-mile trip, ashore there was game aplenty and always new sights and breath-taking wonders.

  Then Augusta; a straggle of stores, stables, cow pens and a few enclosed acres of corn. Near by were the camps of visiting tribes and clans; from the Upper and Lower Creeks, Chicasaws, Uchees, Cher-okees and more. Also itinerant traders were setting out or returning with long strings of pack horses.

  While Rob went to haggle for space in a store. Ram hunted up the garrison's commander and introduced himself.

  Patrick Mackay, of Cider Hall, in Sutheriand—as he was careful to add—was a far different Scot from Mackintosh. Though his men, like all rangers, were volunteers, he called his command the Georgia Independent Company and maintained a regular unit's discipline. He also spoke pridefully of his ardent loyalty to George II.

  Finding, however, that Ram was no mere militia or ranger captain, but had borne the King's commission, he unbent. "I'm in a sad position here," he confessed. "The trustees insist on no Negras or rum, and it's my duty to enforce their orders. Yet across in Carohna both are legal, and the traders come from there or Virginia. Besides, I myself own slaves over there, as is well known. So I must enforce rules I don't believe in and make myself hated."

  "A soldier's lot," Ram commiserated. "I, too, could use blacks; but we've accepted the conditions, so there's naught we can do."

  "It won't last!" Mackay declared. "Without Negras Georgia's doomed. People of position such as ourselves must convince the Trust of their error. As for rum, how can I stop a Virginia trader, who's come hundreds o' miles with a score of kegs, from using 'em in trade? I must needs look the other way."

  Though privately sympathizing, Ram said nothing, lest it be thought he was critical of the trustees and, especially, Oglethorpe.

  Rob, meanwhile, had rented space in the store of an elderly Virginian named Scott, and already he, Peg-Leg and the piragua's crew were getting the goods ashore. "We'll do little trade without rum," he grumbled. "Mr. Scott doesn't sell it, but he gives a free noggin for every five skins brought in. So should we."

  "I'll not have my own kin breaking the law," Ram forbade.

  Next day he and Mackav left with an interpreter and a ranger escort to visit a Cherokee town fifty miles away. There, its mico demanded their help in avenging the deaths of two of his braves, lately killed by the Choctaws. Ram and Mackay refused, however, because the slay-ings had been a mere clash of traveling bands, but promised that should the Choctaws invade Cherokee hunting grounds, the soldiers would come to their Cherokee brothers' aid. Though disappointed, before they left the mice gave them a feast.

  Upon their return to Augusta they saw that something was wrong: the few Indians visible were braves lounging sullenly outside the traders' stores. "Where're the squaws and bairns?" Mackay wondered. "They're usually as thick as lice." He hailed Kennedy O'Brien. "What's in the wind?"

  Glowering at Ram, the trader motioned Mackay to follow him out of earshot, where he spoke heatedly.

  The ranger came back cursing. " 'Tis your cousin! Are there no'

  enough unwedded sluts for him to lay with, he must pick on a wife —and one from a Cherokee town that musters a hundred warriors?" When Ram demanded details, he scowled: "O'Brien says the fool didn't even take her into the woods, but to some bushes behind the store. So they were seen. Damn the gomerel! He gave her a few noggins and a red blanket, and she was so drunk she didn't know what she did. Now they've cropped her hair and cut off her nose—and want to do worse to him."

  Seething, Ram crashed into Simon Scott's store. Usually it was crowded with Indians, but now there were only Scott himself, seated on a keg and whittling morosely, and Rob slumped against the counter. The latter started up, opened his mouth, then slumped again, his usually ruddy face blenching.

  "Well, what's the tale?" Ram asked dangerously.

  "I—I was a fool!" Rob managed. "The trull wanted the blanket and had no skins, so I chaffered with her for something else. Bah, she stank from the bear grease on her! Aye, I was a fool."

  "Ever since our landing, we've heard what these savages do when they're enraged," Ram reminded him bitterly. "What they do to captives makes no pleasant telling either. Well, they want you."

  "God's name, ye'll not let 'em touch me!"

  "Rot ye for a randy pole pusher! You were brave enough with her, but now ye want saving from her kind. You ponce-faced whore's bully!"

  "But they'll torture me!"

  "If that was all, I'd be content. But what if these Cherokees turn from us to the French? What if they start war? There'll be scalping and burning down to Savannah and Charles Town itself. And all because you must have your fun. Cousin or not, I've a mind to crop you myself, and not only your nose."

  "For Gammer's sake, don't let 'em get their hands on me!"

  "Stay here and see we've plenty of guns loaded," Ram ordered.

  "Been a dozen charged ever since it happened," Old Scott interposed. "Aye, and I've a trail laid to this here powder keg to blow the bastards to hell if it's like they'll git the better of us. I lost me partner, Saul Powell, two years back. Stuck him full o' pine splinters and set 'em afire." He glared at Rob. "Damn yer guts! Made like ye was too high and mighty to pass a noggin to seal a trade, but ye pour

  a pint down a no-good bitch so's to git what you want!" Spitting, he resumed his whittHng,

  Ram went out to find Mackay. The latter was already assembling his company; while several traders and their helpers were arming themselves. The Indians had retired to their camps, dividing up according to their tribes or towns.

  Mackay thought presents might salve the injured husband's feelings. "He'll need get a new wife, so the richer he is the better he can pick. I advise ye, sir, not to lag in generosity. And his mico and the Man of War will want their share. If that fails, we must be ready, for all the Indian country's likely to rise, with the French and the Spaniards stirring their fingers in the pot."

  Fortunately, the cuckolded brave's avarice was greater than his sense of dishonor. He demanded three guns, with powder, bullets and flints; ten yards of red stroud woolens; three blue blankets; six white shirts; three large brass kettles, besides smaller items. They were the equivalent in trade to 125 buckskins, which was more than he could have killed and cured in five good hunting years. His chief and the war leader also had to be paid off.

  What few trade goods Ram had left he gave to the luckless squaw who, mutilated and starving, had been skulking behind the huts.

  This over, Ram bade Rob follow him into the woods. "I promised Sue I'd not let you come to harm," he told him. "We'll, I've got ye out of the scrape and we've lost nothing but our trade goods."

  "I'll repay you!" Rob cried fervently. "As soon as there's cash from the mine."

  "I'm taking payment now. Off with your coat."

  "You—!" Rob's eyes widened. "Begod, I'll not be treated so! Damn you. Ram Anstruther, I'm no witless lad to be—"

  "The coat!"

  "I'll see ye in hell first!"

  Ram sprang. He was lighter than Rob, but the latter was already half beaten by guilt. Ram tore the coat off, then stepped back and retrieved his dropped riding crop. Brutally but coldly he thrashed Rob until he had reduced him to a sniveling, cursing hulk. Then, turning away, he called over his
shoulder: "Go aboard the boat."

  He sought out Mackay who, reassuring him that the Indians were now satisfied, insisted on his staying to drink a stirruj>cup of wine.

  So it was dark when he started back toward the piragua. As he was passing Trader O'Brien's hut, the door opened violently and a yelping man darted out, pursued by a filth-spouting human mountain, who was kicking him mercilessly.

  "You useless turd!" the big man roared. "Ye did it d'liberate! Broke me mirror before me very eyes, pox ye rotten!"

  "I didn't, I didn't, s'welp me! Gord's me judge, I— Aaah!"

  It was no concern of Ram's, but as he came into the wedge of light from the doorway, the sufferer made toward him, crawling on hands and knees.

  " 'Elp! Don't let 'im 'urt me again!" he moaned. " 'E'll kill me!"

  "Ye louse-ridden scum!" His tormenter charged, a knife glittering. "I'll larn ye to yawp like that!"

  "Hold!" Ram warned him, for the fugitive was clutching desperately at his legs. "What's the rogue done you must mangle him?"

  "Out of me way! No man can protect me legal servant from me just wrath!" The enraged master gave him a shove that, since his legs were being held, sent him crashing.

  When his head cleared, rage flared. This great bastard had struck him! He tried to rise, but fell again as the screaming servant once more clutched him, imploring aid. It became a melee; the giant kicking and lunging with his knife at both his man and Ram. But as they were now beyond the shaft of light, he did no great harm.

  At last Ram gained his feet. His sword whipped out and darted toward the bully's throat. "Drop that knife!"

  Mouthing oaths, the other tried to draw back, but Ram's arm merely lengthened and the steel's point drew blood. The knife dropped.

  "Now we'll learn why you attack passers-by." Ram forced him into the light.

  "Travis, ye thrice damned fool, ye've caught a Tartar this time!" O'Brien called amusedly. " 'Tis Mr. Oglethorpe's deputy."

  "I'll eat his liver, whoever he is!" But Travis lacked conviction. He wanted to feel how badly his throat was bleeding, but dared not raise his hand lest Ram misunderstand and thrust farther in. Slowly, he backing and Ram advancing, they entered the store.