Not a sharpshooter story, but one which shows the value of marksmanship - Part I
American Revolutionary War seaman Ebenezer Fox was captured aboard the Protector during the ill fated Penobscot Expedition. He was imprisoned aboard the Jersey in New York Harbor. Starved into submission, he and a few others decided to enlist into the British Army in the West Indies where they were promised that they would not have to take up arms against their countrymen. True to their word, Fox is sent to Jamaica where he is enlisted in the 88th Regiment.
While serving the King, Fox's skill as a barber (he was an apprentice barber and wig maker prior to enlisting) is soon discovered and he was relieved of all dutys save but shaving the officers. Still, Fox was not happy about his situation and joined with five others to escape. They steal two pistols and some cutlasses and obtaining a pass, leave their camp with no intent to return.
"In a few moments, we saw coming over the hill three stout negroes, armed with muskets, which they immediately presented to us, and ordered us to stop.
Our arms, as I have formerly obsreved, consisted of two pistols and three swords: upon the pistols we could place but little dependence, as they were not in good order; and the swords were concealed under our clothes: to attempt to draw them out would have caused the negroes to instantly fire upon us.
They were about ten rods before us, and stood in the attitude of taking a deliberate aim at us. To run would be certain death to some of us; we therefore saw no alternative but to advance. One of our numbers, a man named Jones, a tall, powerful fellow, took a paper from his pocket, and, holding it up before him, advanced with great apparent confidence in his manner, and the rest of us imitated his example. As we approached, Jones held out the paper to one of them, telling him that it was our pass, giving us authority to travel across the island. The negroes, as we very well knew, were unable to read; it was therefore immaterial what was written upon the paper, - I believe it was an old letter, - as manuscript or print was entirely beyond their comprehension. While we were advancing, we had time to confer with each other; and the circumstances of the moment, the critical situation, in which we were placed, naturally led our minds to one conclusion, to obtain the consent of the negroes that we might pursue our journey; but that if they opposed our progress, to resort to violence, if we perished in the attempt.
There was something very exciting to our feelings in marching up to the muzzles of these fellows' guns; to have our progress interrupted when we were, as we supposed, so near the end of our journey. Our sufferings had made us somewhat savage in our feelings; and we marched up to them with that determination of purpose which desperate men have resolved upon, when life, liberty, and everything they value is at stake: - all depended upon prompt and decisivie action.
This was a fearful moment. The negroes stood in a row, their muskets still presented, but their attention ws principally directed to the paper which Jones held before them; meanwhile our eyes were constantly fixed upon them, anxiously watching their motions, and designing to disarm them as soon as a favorable opportunity should be offered.
The negroes were large and powerful men, while we, though we outnumbered them, were worn down by our long march, and enfeebled by hunger. In physical power we were greatly their inferiors. But the desperate circumstances in which we were placed inspired us with uncommon courage, and gave us an unnatural degree of strength.
We advanced steadily forward, shoulder to shoulder, till the breasts of three of us were within a few inches of the muzzles of their guns. Jones reached forward and handed the paper to one of the negroes. He took it, and, turning it round several times and examing both sides, and finding himself not much the wiser for it, shook his head and said, "We must stop you." The expression of his coutnenance, the doubts which were manifested in his manner of receiving tha pepar, convinced us, that all hope of deceiving or conciliating them was at an end.
Their muskets were still presented, their fingers upon the triggers. An awful pause of a moment ensued, when we made a sudden and desperate spring forward, and seized their muskets: out attack was so unexpected, that we wrenched them from their hands before they were aware of our intention. The negro, whom I attacked, fired just as I seized his gun, but I had fortunately turned the direction of it, and the ball inflicted a slight wound upon my side, the scar of which remains to this day. This was the only gun that was discharged during this dreadful encounter.
As soon as it was in my possession, I exercised all my strength, more than I thought I possessed, and gave him a tremdous blow over the head with the breech, which brought him to the ground, from which he never rose.
I had no sooner accomplished my work, when I found my companions had been equally active, and had despatched the other two negroes in the same space of time. None of our party received any injury but myself, and my wound I considered as trifling.
The report of the gun we were fearing would alarm some of our enemies' comrades, who might be in the vicinity, and bring them to the spot. We accordingly dragged the bodies to a considerable distance into the woods, where we buried them under a quantity of leaves and brush. In their pockets we found a few biscuit, whcih were very acceptable to us in our famished condition.
The best gun ws selected, as we did not think it necessary to burden oursleves with the others, as they had been injured in the conflict. We took what ammunition we though necessary, and then sought a place to rest for the reaminder of the day."
In part II, we'll learn how marksmanship played a key role for them. Note: one rod = 5.5 yards.
