Billy Bacon and the Soldier Slaves (Colonial Warrior Series, Book 1)

by Andrew Wareham

  “We will require at least one hundred men to each company, sir… Will Major Simons be in command of the island, sir?”

  “No, Mr Bacon. There will be an Acting-Governor, sent from Antigua in the first instance. A full Governor will come from London in a few months.”

  “Very good, sir. I must speak to Major Simons and discover his orders, sir.”

  “He ‘as discussed them with me, Mr Bacon. I am given to understand that he intends to base himself on the fort at the fishing village, with one company. You will remain in your present barracks with your company while one of the new lieutenants is to occupy the fort and provide the Governor’s guard. The fourth company will be sent to the south of the island where there is another fishing village and several plantations. I have happroved his dispositions.”

  Billy approved as well – he had a comfortable billet where he was.

  “I wonder, sir, just why the commanding officer has chosen to locate himself distant from the Governor. I might have thought…”

  He let the sentence trail away, unspoken. Brigadier Searson was to return to Antigua, would undoubtedly converse with the Governor there, and General Haigh as well.

  “I do not wonder at all, Captain Bacon! If there is to be insurrection on the taken island, the most likely place for it to arise is just here, in the only town. If the French decide to mount their own invasion, which is unlikely, I am told, for them being even shorter than we are of troops except on Martinique, then here is where they must come. Most probably, if the need should harise to send troops from St Pierre to assist in another expedition, the Governor will send the man he knows.”

  “Good! Expeditions have been my friend, it seems, sir.”

  “So they have, Captain Bacon. I wish you the best of good luck – like what you have brought me. The new men will be here within the week, and I shall be gone with the Fencibles on their ships.”

  Billy returned to find Sergeant Affleck waiting for him.

  “Two sergeants, sir, as instructed.” He spotted Billy’s shoulder, was amazed, covered himself quickly. “Beg pardon, sir, if I may be so bold, sir, I wish you joy of your promotion.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant Affleck. We are to remain in these barracks, and will recruit as possible to bring the company to fullest size. Sergeant Jameson to do the same. There will be four full companies, two new officers to join with some men in the next few days. One of the new sergeants to be your junior; the other to Sergeant Jameson. Let’s have a look at them.”

  Two smart young men appeared and stamped to attention, saluting very precisely, as a sergeant must. One was very dark, the other lighter skinned.

  Sergeant Affleck performed the introductions.

  “Sergeant Kwame,” he pointed to the black man. “Sergeant Judas,” nodding at the half-caste.

  Billy had come across slave names already, knew of the slave-holders’ witty habits.

  “Sergeant Kwame, you will be a Grenadier, being the larger man.” The black sergeant stood no taller than Billy but was heavily muscled. “When did you come from Africa, Sergeant Kwame?”

  A sergeant must be able to speak English; Affleck would not have picked him otherwise.

  “Less than one year, sir. I speak to traders at the fort on the coast, until we go to war, sir. I learn much English from I was a little boy – my father very pleased with me for talking. We fight a war with the Asante; we lose; then I talk to the men on the slave ship as well. Get to Antigua, they sell me to the Army.”

  “Lucky for me that they did, Sergeant Kwame. Remember that you are free – none of the West India Regiment are slaves. There will be more men joining soon, I hope. Bring them up to your standard. Can you read and write?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Pity. You must learn, somehow. Sergeant Affleck, can you arrange that?”

  A sergeant never said ‘no’ – sergeants could fix anything, everything. Finding an English teacher promised to be a difficult task, however.

  “Yes, sir. I will arrange lessons, sir.”

  “Very good. Sergeant Kwame, the men’s drill is good; I am concerned that they are not as fast as I would like with their musketry. Four rounds from loaded in the first minute; three rounds a minute for four minutes after that. Sixteen rounds fired in five minutes, the muskets held level and steady. While we do that, we will win battles. Concentrate on musketry first. After that, use of bayonet and butt – show them how to swing the musket and hit without damaging it; show them as well how to use the bayonet, especially in a square.”

  “Sir!”

  “Good. Have you arranged a billet for Sergeant Kwame, Sergeant Affleck?”

  “In hand, sir.”

  “Good. Now, Sergeant Judas. You will go as second sergeant to Sergeant Jameson’s company. Your officer will be here within two or three days. Get to know your men and obey your officer’s commands.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Sergeant Affleck, a moment, please.”

  Billy led Affleck aside, told him to keep the two black sergeants clear of the Fencibles – he did not want brawling.

  “Yes, sir. Won’t be much of a problem, sir. Only a few of the men are Methodies who hate blacks. Most are not concerned. The officers might not like to see a black man wearing sergeant’s stripes, but they don’t come near us. Should be right, sir.”

  “Good. Keep an eye out for them. Don’t forget about reading and writing – they must be able to do the Company Books like any other sergeant.”

  Sergeant Affleck returned to Billy two days later.

  “Beg pardon, sir, but I need you to work a bit of a fiddle for us, sir. There’s a Sunday School teacher as was marching as a private soldier in the Fencibles, sir. Used to teaching grown men their letters, sir. Not such a good idea to let him teach the little boys, mark you, that is why he ended up in the Fencibles in a hurry, like, sir. Likes his booze, he does, and not much of a soldier. He would be willing to come across to the West India Regiment as schoolteacher, sir. Staying in garrison here will suit him a treat, sir. Needs a word with the Brigadier, sir.”

  Billy dressed his smartest and marched himself across to Brigadier Searson, explained his need.

  “Makepeace? Don’t know him myself. I shall speak to his Company Officer, Mr Bacon. If he can be released to you, he will be. Ought to have changed his name when he joined – do better as ‘Makewar’, ho-ho!”

  Billy applauded the Brigadier’s stroke of wit and took himself off.

  Makepeace reported for duty that afternoon.

  “Sergeant Affleck will want your services, Private Makepeace. If you are effective in your new job, then be sure that you will be protected in your service.”

  A conditional promise worked wonders, Billy was finding. Makepeace would be wondering just what might happen if he was ineffective.

  The new officers arrived, escorting a newly purchased group of soldiers, about a hundred of them. Both men were lieutenants, heavily tanned, in their thirties, men who had been out for many years, but not, probably, as soldiers.

  “Captain Bacon? Lieutenant Barker, sir. This is Lieutenant Smyke, what was sworn in after me and is junior to me, like, what is why I am making the reporting to duty, sir.”

  “Very good, Lieutenant Barker. It is important to know the chain of command. Major Simons is senior in the Battalion here. He will be based on the smaller fort on the west coast and will be watching over the whole of that part of the island. You are to base yourself and your company in the fort here, sir. Lieutenant Smyke, you will take your men to the fishing village at the south of the island. You have the hardest job, for you must build your own small fortified camp with your men.”

  “You are to be billeted here, sir?”

  “I am. You, Mr Barker, will have the town to watch over – the harbour especially – and the fort itself. You will provide a guard for the Acting-Governor. I shall look to keep the peace in the remainder of the island. There is a strong probability that we shall be made part of the next
expeditions to conquer French or Spanish territories. In that case, Major Simons will hold the island, under current plans.”

  “Very good, sir. Bit of a chance of loot, I expect!”

  “It is not impossible, Lieutenant Barker – but only if we win. You must drill your men and, most importantly keep their musketry. You have two good sergeants who will both assist you. Mr Smyke, you have too few men and I know nothing of your sergeants.”

  “Got one, sir. What do I do if I need a second?”

  “I will promote one of my men to the post. Or perhaps one of Mr Barker’s, because they have smelled powder – they fought well taking the island.”

  “What, black men?”

  “Yes! They are our soldiers. We won’t get any other sort, so we must make them into good soldiers. If they become the best, then we get to the front of any fighting going, which makes us first into the towns or forts.”

  Billy had already seen the gleam of avarice in the two pairs of eyes; an appeal to greed seemed his best way forward.

  “You make a strong argument, sir! I agree!”

  Billy laughed, asked what they had been before they took their commissions.

  “Ensign, sir, with the Royal Americans in the last war. When that was lost, I came down to Antigua where I worked as manager to a merchant, in his warehouses. When the chance came to return to the status of a gentleman, I took it, sir.”

  “Well done, Mr Barker. The American War was a disaster for many men. Mr Smyke?”

  “Royal Marine, sir. Which I was a corporal, sir, but I was hit on the head at the beginning of the war, sir, and been sea-sick since, for not being able to find my balance at sea. My captain put me ashore at Antigua, sir, and I was very kindly offered a place as a sergeant in the West India Regiment, what I did well at, and been made up to be a lieutenant.”

  “Then you have done very well, Mr Smyke.”

  “Thank’ee, sir. Will we be to meet Major Simons, sir?”

  “He marched his company out this morning. He is not the youngest of men and I doubt he intends to make the trip back to town very often. We shall, I think, be on our own for much of the time. Try to make your companies up to at least one hundred and fifty men – very large, but we can split them into two if further officers are posted to us. I shall speak to the Acting-Governor. He was due on your ship, I believe, Lieutenant Barker?”

  “No, sir. I was told he was delayed by three days, sir. Deliberately, sir, so that we could make ready for him.”

  “Good of them! You will want to organise your men so that you have the guard details ready. Your Sergeant Jameson will do that for you while you settle in. One last thing, gentlemen – discipline! Try never to flog or indeed to give any severe punishments at all. The men are very willing, I have found. Most of them are just realising that while they are soldiers they are not slaves; they know that if they behave well for a few years, they will be discharged as free men. Treat them kindly and they will fight for you. Besides that, if the slaves rise, we shall be called to put them down – our soldiers must know which side they are on.”

  “And it must be ours, sir. You are right, I think. If we flog them, then they will store up a grievance, and that could be the end of us one day. Slaves do rise every so often, and it is the Army that must put them down. I will not say that my soldiers must be my friends, but, by God, they must not be my enemies!”

  “Well said, Mr Barker. Mr Smyke?”

  “I don’t know, sir, we always used the cat at sea, but we didn’t have no slaves to put down there. I ain’t going to argue, sir. When you say we must take on more men, sir – that means from the island here, don’t it?”

  “Yes. If they are free men, well and good. If they are runaways, well, that’s rather a pity, because we are not going to give them up once they have sworn their oath.”

  “Very good, sir!”

  Both men thought that was funny, for some reason.

  “Will they be given bounties, sir, for signing on?”

  “That will be for the Acting-Governor to decide, Mr Barker. I hope so, but he may not have the money to pay them.”

  Billy was sure they had asked that question in hope that they might pocket some part of the bounty, as he had done. He did not blame them. He sent them off to the fort, in Smyke’s case, temporarily; he could march out in the morning.

  He sat down in his lonely, empty room. There was space for two, that was for sure, and he had no Mess to occupy his evenings, no brother officers to provide company. He could find himself a girl in town, that was for sure, but he wanted Julie. He missed Julie’s life and happiness and gaiety – it was impossible for the while, but if she stayed with him and he put some money together, then perhaps he could in a few years retire to a small plantation with her as his wife.

  “Freeman! Could you find yourself a boat to St Etienne and ask Julie – you know the girl I mean, the market woman’s daughter – if she would wish to come to St Pierre?”

  Freeman left with a few coins, came back empty-handed, Julie at his side, smiling, returned to her easy-going, rich protector.

  Life in St Pierre became far more comfortable. Billy began to plan for a future.

  Billy Bacon and the Soldier Slaves

  Chapter Eleven

  Billy was woken from deep sleep well before dawn. He rolled out of his bed, reluctantly, shouted to the unknown hammering on his door that he was coming, turned his head to the muttered, muffled protest at his side.

  “Some sort of emergency, lass. Get up quick – they wouldn’t be disturbing me for nothing.”

  Freeman stood with his fist raised, ready to batter on the door again.

  “You wanted at the fort, sir. Now. Big problem. Rising at the plantations, so I hear.”

  “Right, two minutes while I get dressed. Wake Sergeant Affleck and Sergeant Kwame, tell them to make ready to move the company out, all except two platoons to hold the barracks wall and protect our womenfolk. As we have planned. The sick to remain here.”

  Most of the sick – no more than a dozen men - would be recovering from recurrent fever or dysentery. They could not march, but they could sit at a loophole and fire a musket.

  Billy heaved on his working uniform, stamped his feet into his comfortable high boots, grabbed his shako, held his arms out while Julie slung his sword belt round his waist and then hooked the pistols on together with the little pouches of powder and ball.

  “Stay here, where you will be safe, Julie.”

  The messenger from the fort had come in the buckboard cart kept for town use; he was moving just as soon as Billy hopped onto the seat.

  Lieutenant Barker was awake – or at least, he was not eyes-closed asleep – and waiting for him.

  “Runner just come in, sir. Three plantations aflame to the south, sir. Not so far from Lieutenant Smyke’s camp.”

  Like Lieutenant Barker, Smyke was fond of his bottle and was unlikely to have been fit to take any action after sundown.

  “Acting-Governor has been called, sir.”

  Mr Montague, the Acting-Governor, was a reasonably able man, but precise and very pleased with his eminence within the island. He was truly impressed with his own dignity – achieved in his mid-thirties, within reason young - and aware that if he was successful in the post then he might become the permanent governor of another island, and that would mean an eventual knighthood and retirement to England full of honours, and not poor. Governors issued commissions to privateers and sold any number of licences to various merchants; they also took bribes in their role of senior judge in their colony. Even a small island could generate fifty thousand pounds in ten years; the larger colonies would be worth far more. Mr Montague demanded success of his military men, for they must uphold his good reputation in Whitehall.

  “Good. Where is he?”

  “In his office, sir.”

  “Right. Unless you are told differently by the Acting-Governor, you will hold the town, Mr Barker. Patrols in the streets, permitting no disorder;
pickets out at a distance from the outskirts – full squads, each under a Chosen Man, all as discussed and planned. Watch the harbour.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Barker was happy with the distribution of tasks; he would be kept busy, but he would not be out chasing through the bush with a thousand or more of angry slaves hiding in their natural element. Billy was certain that Barker could be trusted to keep order in the town – he would do his work well. Smyke, he suspected, was another matter.

  He made his way to the Acting-Governor’s office, was welcomed and almost pulled inside by a young aide.

  “Very prompt, Captain Bacon!”

  “Emergencies will not go away, Your Excellency. They must be dealt with, and quickly.”

  “Well said, sir. What do you propose to do?”

  “Find out the details, Your Excellency. While doing that, I shall move my company south to the apparent location of the trouble. Mr Barker will hold the town. It would be as well, Your Excellency, to send a message to Major Simons. By ship, if possible, being safer than sending a courier overland with the chance of being intercepted.”

  Mr Montague thought that very sensible.

  “What have you in mind for Major Simons, Captain Bacon?”

  “He must hold his fort, Your Excellency, and find half a company at least to march down the coast towards the scene of the trouble. If he has one side of the island, while I have the other, then the trouble-makers should be caught between us.”

  “Very good. What of your Mr Smyke?”

  “I much hope he will hold his base, Your Excellency. I would not wish his one hundred and fifty muskets to fall into the hands of the slaves.”

  “I shall send a fishing boat to him with the strictest of orders that he must hold, Captain Bacon.”

  “Thank you, Your Excellency.”

  It was clumsy and time-consuming, but Montague so loved to be ‘Excellency’ that it was worth the effort.

  “How old is Major Simons, Captain Bacon?”

  Billy was not expecting the sudden question and forgot himself so far as to answer it honestly.