The Thistle against the Crown: Chapter 6

Tensions in the town rise as the men prepare to go off to war.

     Night had fallen over Berwick. For many it was the last night they would spend at home with their families in quite a long time. Despite that, however, most of the men were in the town tavern known as "Cú Drúidhte" or "Drunk Dog" in English. It was a long wooden building that was unfinished on the outside leaving the color of weathered wood. The windows seemed to glow orange from the candlelight and roaring fire that blazed in the hearth. Like most taverns it had several long tables and benches for the patrons to sit in while they sat around talking, singing songs, or even playing cards. Despite the fact that it was a place where people came to drink and partake in rowdy behavior, it was a homely place.

     Horatio and Dougal had brought the recruitment forms and other paperwork for the newly formed Berwick Company back to Horatio's house before returning into town to share a pint at the tavern, but as they approached it they could hear the sound of arguing coming from inside. The two paused and looked at each other before quickening their pace and walking in the wooden door and seeing that several of the townspeople were arguing back and forth with George Campbell and several of Campbell's followers.

     "What you all are doing is treason! You should be ashamed of yourselves!" Campbell was chiding the men who had volunteered to join the war, "You don't think that word will get back to the English that men from Berwick are now rebels? What will happen to your families then? What will happen to this town? Do you want to see all of our homes burned to the ground?"

     "You're a coward George Campbell! So afraid of what the English will do that you'd rather sit on the side of the Devil than take a stand against him!" Twenty-seven year old Angus Fraser snapped back at him.

     "Aye! They're lowlanders, I wouldn't expect any different." Robert Stewart added in support of Fraser.

     "You dare to insult me and my family, sir! I'll see you at dawn!" Campbell snapped back.

     "We won't be here, you buggery shite! Unlike you, we'll be off fighting against the oppression of the English which has been felt by Scots for far too long!" Fraser replied and was rewarded with a round of cheers from those who had also joined up.

     "Gentlemen, I'm sure that we're all excited after the day's events." Christian Reid tried to interject peacefully, "We have all lived in Berwick peacefully, despite our differences. And I'm sure that we can continue that way, even with the war on. The town will live on regardless of those men who have left to fight."

     "Maybe for you! But I'm ashamed of living in a town with treasonous rebels!" Robert Campbell, George's younger brother announced, "And every one of you should be shamed to bring such dishonor to your families."

     "We are loyal subjects of the King! And while we might have disagreements with his policies of late, we must pursue them peacefully and within the scope of law." George Campbell announced, "What you men have signed on to do makes you Judas to our sovereign."

     "If you're such a loyal subject, then perhaps we should take a lesson from those in Boston and pour tar on your naked self, dump feathers on you and run you out of town." Seamus O'Sullivan said, "Sounds like a good enough idea to me." He shrugged with a pleasant and amused smile before tipping back the mug full of ale that he held in his right hand.

     Dougal began to step forward to interject and put an end to the fighting, but Horatio put a hand on his arm and shook his head silently. The two resumed their position against the wooden wall just to the left of the door, watching. Horatio knew that ending the argument by force would do nothing but swell the division and make it appear that he was the supreme authority in the town, which he never claimed to be or wished to be. This was something the townspeople were going to have to sort out on their own.

     "They'll hang you all!" Campbell shouted back, "And you Irish bog-trotters should be the last people speaking up. If ever there was an ungrateful people, it's you!"

     "Now just a minute! No need to be making this personal." O'Sullivan said, "Because if you did, I might have to take offense to this and that's something you just don't want."

     "If you think we're afraid of some backwoods, swamp skipping Irishman, you're more delusional than I thought." Robert Campbell chimed in to support his brother.

     O'Sullivan said nothing as he walked forward with a smile on his face. He looked at the Campbell brothers and the two younger men who sat next to them before pulling a knife and bringing it up to Robert Campbell's throat in such a quick move that most people didn't even realize he had one. As O'Sullivan held the knife to Campbell's throat, George had staggered backwards, and two of the other men from town had grabbed either side of O'Sullivan to hold him off from killing the man.

     "You open your mouth like that again, and I'll nail that forked tongue to this table." O'Sullivan said, his eyes starting straight into Robert Campbell's as the fear gripped the Lowlander and he just held up his hands.

     O'Sullivan pulled the knife away from Campbell's throat and returned it to the sheath in his belt before stepping away and returning to the mug of ale. There was nothing he loved more than a good bar fight, and for what the Campbells were saying, he would have gladly killed them both, but he knew that it would accomplish nothing. It was an age-old argument over loyalties, and neither side was going to get the upper hand until the war was over.

     Horatio said nothing as he stepped forward before stepping up on one of the benches and then one of the tables. Towering above everyone he still said nothing but the room hushed as they noticed he was standing there, watching them.

     "Look at you all. Sitting in a tavern making threats at each other, when you should be home with your families. For those who have signed on with us, it'll be the last time you'll see them for a spell." Horatio looked around, "And for those of you who are staying, your time might be better spent figuring out how to run this town with most of the men gone. Things will change, it's inevitable. We've made our choice and Mr. Campbell has made his. We may not see eye to eye on the matter, but we have always lived in this town in peace regardless of our differing opinions. There's no reason that should change now. This bickering is pointless. It achieves nothing for either side." He took a few steps on the table, "Tomorrow morning we form up at dawn. Leave your weapons at home. We will be taking care of a few logistical things and then we march. So go home and get some rest, all of you!" His eyes continued to scan the crowd, "Soldiering isn't an easy life, it's not filled with glory or anything else you might have heard. It's hard, it's messy. Ask any one of us who has served. But it is the noblest of causes that we sacrifice our livelihoods. Now finish your drinks and get home where you belong!"

     Horatio stepped off of the table and back down onto the floor before walking over to Dougal, "Clear them out in five minutes. We don't need them falling down drunk tomorrow morning."

     "Yes, sir." Dougal said before looking back at everyone. None of them looked like they were moving too fast towards the exit and as Horatio left the tavern Dougal walked into the center of the room, "You heard the man. Finish your drinks and get home before I kick everyone of you so hard in the arse you'll land in your house without taking a step!" It was a part of Dougal that he thought he'd locked away long ago, the hard military sergeant. He never thought he would need this side of himself again, but it seemed much easier to reawaken this dormant side than he had thought it would be.

     Slowly the people of Berwick left the "Cú Drúidhte." Some of them left alone, others left in small groups. None of them were laughing, or full of revelry as they often were when they left the tavern. The men were solemn as Horatio's words began to sink in. They left in silence, their minds full and their hearts heavy. For a few of them, they would have the comfort of their families with them, but for most they would be leaving them behind.

     "You, Dougal Cameron, are more guilty than any of these men. You encouraged this! Any blood that comes to this town will be on your hands, and the hands of your master." George Campbell sneered as he walked out of the tavern.

     Dougal could smell the whiskey on his breath and didn't even acknowledge him or give him the satisfaction of a reply. Every man who had volunteered had done so of his own will. Horatio had ensured that no one felt coerced into service and so Dougal felt no guilt about those who had joined.

     "Things will calm down once we leave and the town gets back to operating normally." Reid said as he stepped up beside Dougal just inside the door of the tavern.

     "Aye, they will. Everyone's on edge right now." Dougal replied.

     "They don't know what to expect." Reid said, "And they aren't the only ones."

     Dougal read the unspoken question that Reid was trying to convey. He was doing his best to be brave, but Dougal knew that the young Christian Reid was just as nervous as everyone else was.

     "It won't be easy, lad." Dougal said, "It's an ugly business, war, and not for the feint of heart. There will be a lot of times where you will want to quit, where you will want to give up and go home, but just remember why you signed on and remember that everything that Horatio and I put you through is for a reason and is only meant to help improve your odds of surviving."

     The last person finally left the tavern and Dougal closed the door with Reid right beside him. The two men started walking down the dirt road of the town in silence. Dougal's words echoing in Reid's mind as he thought about what this really meant, and what awaited them the following day. The thought of war frightened him, but the thought of living as a slave to the British King horrified and disgusted him more. Reid prided himself on being educated and liked to think that he made logical and sound decisions, but he was learned enough to know that war brought out the worst in some people and he didn't even know the worst version of himself was capable of.

     Reid's thoughts were broken by Dougal putting his hand on his shoulder, "Don't worry lad, you'll do alright. Just listen, learn, and pay attention to what you're told."

     Reid realized that the two were outside of his house and he offered a small smile to Dougal, "Thank you." He nodded, "Good night."

     "Good night." Dougal said warmly as he started walking towards Horatio's house. Many things went through his mind as well. Would this war be any different than the war they had fought just over a decade before? Would it bring the same horrors, or would they be the same horrors disguised as new ones? But he had been a soldier long enough to know not to dwell on such things. No one knew what the next day or the next minute would bring, it was all chance, and that gave him an even chance to survive and that he could live with.

Author's Note

The story will be picking up soon with some action coming in the next few chapters. The men will have to start adapting to real military life. It is my hope that this will show the difference between town "militias" of the time, and their transition into a real military force.