As the empty cattle boat sailed out into the Sheuch, it started rolling heavily in the waves that were kicked up by the wind in the strait. The ferry didn’t have a load of cattle to act as ballast, making it somewhat unstable in the water. The smell of cattle still lingered around the cattle pens for the trip back to Ireland. The three brothers were relaxing on the weather side of the boat behind the cattle pens and getting some fresh air from the wind at their backs as the boat moved out into the strait.
After two hours of sailing, they had reached a little past midway across the Sheuch when the wind began to strengthen out of the south. The seamen aboard the cattle boat began to shorten the sail as the boat heeled over under the increased wind pressure against the sails. Twenty minutes later, the weather had turned nasty with a storm coming up from the southwest on the horizon. Rain soon followed with wind gusts of over forty miles per hour, and streaks of lightning lit up the sky. The Irish Sea gale was in full strength a short time later.
The sea got rougher and rougher as the gale moved closer to the Sheuch and the ferry began to wallow heavily in the waves and take on water as the waves came crashing in over the prow. The lack of a load of cattle on the boat, the wind, and the large waves increased the ferry’s instability and made it difficult to handle in the heavy weather. The wind slowly veered around so that it was coming out of the west, so the boat’s progress toward Ireland was almost at a standstill.
One of the sailors was scurrying forward to tie down some rigging near where the three brothers were hanging on to the rails to keep from being washed overboard.
“What’re the captain’s orders for the boat?” asked Robert who had stopped the sailor.
“He’s going to turn the ferry around and head back toward Portpatrick to see if we can outrun the storm back to Scotland.”
“I suspect that we’re long past half way already. By the time we make any progress back to Portpatrick, the gale will be past and the wind will veer around to come from the east again,” said Robert, but since he wasn’t the captain, there was nothing he could do about it.
The sailor nodded in agreement with Robert and returned to his duties. The captain shouted, “Man the pumps!” to the seamen, who had finished shortening the sails again and tying down all the rigging.
The three horses in the cattle pens had sensed the change in the weather as soon as the wind had increased. They had become restless, moving around the confined space of the pens and protesting loudly. Their eyes were wide with fear, and they were rearing up on their hind legs kicking at the cattle pen rails.
Robert told Hugh and Alex to see after the horses and calm them down, if they could, while he opened the gangway port on the prow of the ferry.
“If comes to it lads, we’ll try to save the horses,” said Robert, motioning Hugh and Alex toward the cattle pens where the horses were tied.
Soon the ferry was taking even a harder pounding by even larger waves that the wind had spawned. The water was pouring in over the entire length of the ferry in addition to the prow each time it plowed into a trough. The ferry was taking on more water than the pumps could shed. It was foundering lower into the water as the boat began to fill with sea water. It was beginning to look like they were going down.
Suddenly, a loud crack echoed throughout the ferry as the main mast broke off at the slot where it passed through the main deck, just as the ferry was turning to head back toward Portpatrick. The packet rats, as the crew on board was called because of their somewhat dubious background, knew they were in trouble and began to make preparations to abandon ship prior to the captain’s order. Even though they had been sailing for almost four hours, they had no idea how close they were to the Irish coast, since the weather had blocked visibility.
Robert yelled at Hugh and Alex, “Bring the horses up to the prow so we can get them free of the ferry if she goes down, lads.”
Alex and Hugh put blindfolds on the three horses and led them up to the prow just as the ferry started to drop even lower into the water. The added drag of all the sea water in the boat and the broken mast, whose sails were hanging over the side into the water, caused the ferry to slowly turn into the waves. Robert knew that the ferry wouldn’t last much longer, as he watched the waves crash into the side of boat. He thought it might be better for them to get away from it now rather than wait for the ferry to sink and possibly take them down with it.
The three brothers pulled off their boots, stuffed them into their saddle bags and mounted their horses. They jumped the horses into the water through the gangway port in the prow as the ferry plowed into a deep trough. The smell of land got the horses swimming toward Ireland. The three brothers slipped out of their saddles and moved back so that they were swimming behind their horses, holding onto their horses’ tails. Most of the packet rats could not swim; they had never been taught to. Seamen were always the worst swimmers. Almost none of them could swim or had even tried to learn. They figured that if a ship went down at sea, there was probably nowhere to swim to anyway, so why bother. The packet rats were all scurrying around looking for something that would float that they could hang onto when the ferry plowed into a large wave and stayed down.
“Abandon ship!” yelled the captain as everyone made their way into the water.
John Mackenzie had made sure that his sons knew how to swim. When each one was about five years old, he would take him down to the river and throw him off a bank into the water. “Sink or swim!” he yelled, watching carefully in case he had to dive in to make a rescue. But, the lads all took to the water like ducks. Many summer family outings involved swimming in a loch or a river. All three brothers were very strong swimmers. They were also fair fish noodlers, especially Hugh, who seemed to have a knack for it.
Alex turned his head to look at the ferry just as the stern sank under the waves. The seamen who could swim were either swimming along behind the brothers, trying to follow them toward the Irish coast, or hanging on to anything that would float. There was nothing the brothers could do for the seamen in the heavy seas other than to lead them to land. At least there had been no cattle on board to get in the way of abandoning the ship.
The wind had moved around to blow from the north as the gale moved across the sea and was past them. The wind and waves were no longer hindering their progress toward the Irish shore.
It seemed like they had been swimming a long time when they heard the sound of the surf. The three brothers swam the last few yards and crawled out of the water to the beach. They collapsed in the sand, totally exhausted from the shipwreck ordeal. It appeared that they may have been the only survivors of the wreck, since none of the seamen had washed up on the shore with them.
“I told ye when we were back in Scotland that Ireland was close enough for us to swim it,” Hugh panted as he looked at Alex and Robert.
* * * *
Kings Pinnacle Part 2
Robert and Hugh
The three Mackenzie brothers had settled into a fairly comfortable life over the past two years in Ireland on Angus MacDonald’s cattle station. The brothers’ days consisted of mending fences, herding cattle, and protecting them from predators, both animal and human. The Irish wood kernes rustled cattle at every opportunity, so the drovers were constantly watching for them and fighting them off. The brothers were normally up at the crack of dawn and rounding up the strays that had wandered away from the main herd during the night. They took shifts watching the cattle at night while the rest of the drovers slept back at the cattle station bunkhouse. The cattle herds were moved from pasture to pasture as the grass was grazed to give each pasture time to recover for the next grazing cycle.
The herd was thinned occasionally by Angus MacDonald so that the excess cattle could be rounded up and herded to the new cattle ferry and shipped to Scotland for sale. The occasional trip to Donaghadee or Belfast to buy goods and services and have a pint of ale was about the only distraction that the brothers allowed themselves. It was after one such trip and a pi
nt or two apiece that Hugh brought up an issue that had been much on his and Robert’s minds lately. It was an issue that he and Robert had already discussed and agreed on.
“Weel, Alex, laddie, ye can’t stay here in Ireland. Robber has booked passage for ye to America on a brigantine ship called the Ocean Monarch, sailing out of Larne to Philadelphia. As ye know, the British Army has moved several new units to Derry, not far from here, to help us put down an insurrection of the wood kernes. Word has it that the British authorities are all still looking for ye, Alex. With the British Army moving in so close in force, it’s highly likely that they’ll catch ye. We’ve been in Ireland for over two years, and there’s been nae let up in the search for ye. Ye must get away to America,” said Hugh as he, Alex, and Robert were talking in the cattle station’s bunkhouse.
Alex looked at Robert, and Robert just nodded that he agreed with Hugh. They had obviously already discussed it and considered all the other options.
The Plantation of Ulster was an organized settlement in Northern Ireland by British and Scottish farmers that had started in the early 1600s. All the lands in Northern Ireland that were formerly held by Celtic Irish chieftains were confiscated by King James and used to settle colonists from England and Scotland. In the late 1600s, the plan was to move outlaws and Reivers from Scotland to the Plantation. This was done in order to ease tensions along the Scottish English border and to help stabilize the Plantation, which covered almost all of Northern Ireland. The Mackenzie brothers had planned on finding work at the Plantation but decided it would be easier and more profitable to maintain their jobs at the cattle station.
From time to time, a group of Irish soldiers and former Irish landholders would attack the settlements to try to drive out the British and Scottish colonists. These bandits were known as wood kernes, and the military was often called on to supplement the colonists in fighting off their attacks. A large military garrison had been established at Derry for this purpose.
“Alex, there’s nothing left for ye back in Scotland. Elizabeth Murray has one bairn on the ground and another on the way since she wed Sir George Hastings,” Hugh went on.
They had gotten a letter a few weeks ago from their father that described the situation; it had also contained the information about Elizabeth Murray. Alex had always thought that he would eventually be able to go back to Scotland and rescue Elizabeth when they finally gave up the search for him. But now it looked like events in his life were taking a different course.
It was now late 1772, and colonization of America was in full swing, with ships leaving Ulster for ports in America, such as New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Charleston, on a weekly basis. The weather was cold and it looked like it could take a turn for the worse at any time.
“Are you two going with me?”
“Nae lad,” said Robert. “We don’t have enough money to pay for our passage, so Hugh and I are going back home.”
“I would rather go with you two and take my chances in Scotland.”
“Alex, you’re eighteen years old now; you can look out for yourself. If you went back with us, you wouldn’t last a month before the British had you.”
“What will I do in America?”
“You’ll have to figure that out when you get there, lad.”
Angus MacDonald’s cattle station was conveniently located just southwest of Donaghadee where both the ocean-going ferry boats and the cattle ferry landed. The three brothers saddled up their horses for the ride west from the cattle station, then through Belfast across the marshy ford where the Lagan River meets the Farset River. The last leg of the trip was north from Belfast along the coast road to Larne, where Alex would board the ship to America. It was about a thirty mile ride from the cattle station to Larne, so it took the brothers most of the day for the journey, including a tavern stop in Belfast. As soon as they arrived in Larne, they went to the docks to find the berth of the Ocean Monarch.
The trip to America would take at least five or six weeks or up to fourteen weeks if the winds were adverse. After surviving the sinking of the cattle ferry, Alex was not looking forward to another ocean voyage.
* * * *
Samuel
“Alex, lad, have ye been practicing yer swimming?” asked Hugh with a grin.
The three brothers were seated at a table in a small tavern located on the waterfront in Larne. They were waiting for the outgoing tide and the sailing orders for the Ocean Monarch. Each brother had a pewter tankard of ale in front of him. Hugh and Robert were talking with Alex and giving him some final advice for his trip to America.
Robert frowned at Hugh and said, “Alex, we didn’t have enough money for a cot for you on the Ocean Monarch. We could just barely afford a hammock for you on board the ship.”
“It was nae my fault! I gave ye all the money I had,” said the indignant Hugh.
The Ocean Monarch was a retired British navy brigantine that had been converted for passenger service. The twelve-pound guns had been removed, and the gun decks had been enclosed from the weather and modified for passenger service. The brigantine had two masts that were both square-rigged. Brigantine ships were a favorite of navies and of merchant fleets around the world, but they were especially favored by brigands and pirates. Hence, they were called brigantines or brigs for short. The sleeping spaces between decks consisted of rows of cots that had been lined up side-by-side to maximize the use of the space. One section of a passenger deck was filled with hammocks, and the head room on this deck was so low that you had to walk in a stooped over position to reach your assigned hammock. It was this section of the passenger deck where Alex was assigned his sleeping hammock.
The Ocean Monarch provided passage to America for families, with men, women, and children crammed into every available space on the ship. There were also several young single men traveling to America. All of the young single men, including Alex, would be assigned sleeping accommodations based on how much they could pay and as far from the families traveling together as possible. There would be almost no privacy during the voyage. There were no dining facilities on the ship; all meals were eaten at one’s assigned sleeping place or up on the main deck. After the first two weeks, the food would be moldy and spoiled. Disease on passenger ships was very common. Medical facilities were nonexistent and often people died during the crossing to America. Dead bodies were buried at sea, since there was no way to preserve them on the ship for later burial. The toilet facilities consisted of a pair of open-air heads at the bow of the ship.
There was a chance that Alex would not arrive in America at all. The dangers of disease, storms, fires, and pirates were always present during an ocean voyage.
“Alex, when you get to America, try to find some other Scots from the lowlands. Maybe you can find someone you know who can help you get started,” said Robert.
“Aye, I will do it,” replied Alex.
“They don’t need no more Scots in America,” said a man sitting at a table with two other men near the three brothers, having obviously overhead their conversation.
The man stood up and walked up to the three brother’s table. He was a large man dressed in fashionable British clothes, and he was sneering at them.
“Weel, pardon me, lad, but what business is it of yers?” asked Hugh.
“I’m making it my business,” said the large man.
When he heard the man’s response and the surly tone of his voice, Hugh pushed his chair back and stood up. As he rose, he grasped the edge of the table and lifted it up, turning it over toward the man. The tankards of ale sitting on the table all fell towards the man, who stepped backwards, looking down, to avoid having his fine clothes drenched with ale.
Simultaneously, Hugh leaped over the table and planted his huge right fist directly into the man’s jaw just as he looked up. The man’s eyes rolled back into his head and he fell to the floor, looking like a large tree that had just been sawn down. Just as the man hit the floor, Alex picked up his chair and hurled it at
the other two men still sitting at their table. The men ducked the chair, but the thrown chair kept them seated and out of the fight.
Hugh stepped over the unconscious man and walked over to the table where the man’s companions still sat and asked, “Anyone else here don’t like Scots?”
The two men seated at the table looked at each other and then back at Hugh. After observing how large Hugh was and how easily he had felled their friend, they shook their heads vigorously. Hugh turned around, stepped back over the large man, who was still unconscious, and picked up the overturned table to set it back up. He ordered three more tankards of ale from the serving wench that had walked up after the altercation was over.
Hugh sat down, looked at Alex and Robert and said, “Weel, now where were we?”
The two men sitting at the table got up and walked over to their unconscious friend to rouse him.
“Wake up, Samuel,” said one of the men, as he slapped the big man on the cheek.
The man named Samuel did not wake up, so his friends bent down and grasped him under each of his arms. They lifted his upper body and dragged him out of the tavern with his boots dragging across the floor. Dragging him down the street, they found a horse trough where they intended to splash some water on his face to wake him up.
Robert turned to Alex and said, “Hugh and I will take care of Hack for you. You can’t take him with you.”
“Thanks,” was all Alex could say, as he realized how much he would miss his brothers and Hack in America.
* * * *