Pardon my long suthern drawl, Sum of ma teef R currently missin’ an’ my stiff upper lip is makin’ it hard to talk. My English comes frem a place a tad-bit ferther south than London England. I’m a hangin’ ‘round here fer a while so I suppose I might ‘s well tell y’all a tale of th’ south.
Sum’yall don’t believe in gothic tales ‘n’ ghosts. Good fer you then!
But I’ll tell you whut…
There’s nightmares in th’ ol’ south that will haunt yer wakin’ hours as much’s when yer dreamin’ ‘bout ‘em during shut-eye.
When you hear sum o’ them southern tales, you know th’ ghosts are hidin’ deep in th’ story’s plot an’ shadow-line, it’s up t’ the listener t’ hear the moral o’ th’ story.
Now…before I get to yappin’ ’bout th’ details of this here tale, I want everyone to imagine a historical time when th’ population an’ technology of th’ colony of Georgia, were mirrored by today’s visions of a post ‘pocalyptic wurld. I’m a’talkin’ ‘bout a time, 45 years before th’ idee of a Duval/Nassau county line wuz a thang. This wuz long before those were even werds thought of in a man’s mind. I’m a’talkin’ ‘bout way back’n 1777.
Roads were sparse. Towns were few ‘n’ far between. Doctors ‘n’ medical care t’weren’t a phone call away. Strangers were every-were ‘n’ every-wun.
Imagine a world where th’ biggest city south of Georgie’s Capital of Savannah , wuz th’ Capital city of British Florida, St Augustine.
Now my tale’s gonna start with ‘n introduction t’ the men ‘n’ th’ bravery of a couple’a good ol’ colonists that referred to themselves’s th’ Georgia Line.
Who were they?
Th’ Georgia Regiment of Horse Rangers were State troopers. They were mounted infantryman, commonly called Dragoons.
…an’ th’ Infantry… th’ 1st 2nd & 3rd Georgia regiment….
Most of ‘em we’re plain ol’ farmers that raised th’ horses they were fighting with. Back home folk’s called these fellas crackers, because they used their whips to train th’ wild horses roaming South Georgia, an’ Florida, as well’s their cattle.
…that’s what they called th’ Georgia line… A buncha cracker’s and semi-wild horses.
Them boys from th’ Georgia Line…I’m one of ‘em. We’s from a very young an’ working-class colony. Po’ ‘n’ barely 44 years old.
No fancy uniforms fer us boys. Hunting shirts an’ Gaiter trousers were’s fancy as it get.
We Georgia boys R lead by Lachlan McIntosh. A gentlemen from Scotland that’s been known to get a little red in th’ neck when his temper flares. I a’int gonna get into details now, but shortly after this massacre I’m fixin’ to tell Y’all about, General Mac got inta some serious political trouble.
This Scottish Hills Bubba, (thanks to a series of unfortunate circumstances an’ a dispute o’er this here raid) ended up High-tailin’ it to Valley Forge, Pennsylvania serving directly under Commander George Washington.
Yes, Sir, that’s right.
As th’ Spaniards would say, He’s one bad ass hombre. There’s reasons Fort’s and Counties are named after this fella.
Now don’t go getting me wrong.
T’were equal numbers of horses an’ volunteers from th’ Carolina’s on this expedition, but th’ main strength of th’ expedition wuz definitely th’ Georgia Line. Th’ invasion attempt consisted of a coupl’a Navy boats carryin’ th’ infantry while th’ cavalry traveled o’er land.
Now picture this….. try to imagine what it wuz like to be one of 200 people gathered together, from Charlotte, to Charleston, to Savannah , ready to invade “British territory”.
That location? We called it th’ Georgia-Florida line. Since we officially pushed th’ Line of Georgia a coupl’a miles south of th’ border, into British-Florida. We were basically tellin’ the King, we wuz ‘merica ‘n’ no-wun messes wit’ us!
Th’ boats were planin’ to enter th’ territory through th’ mouth of th’ Nassau River, then meet up with th’ Calvary where’t crisscrosses with Thomas Creek.
Thanks to shallow waters, an’ a whole lot’a mud, th’ boats were delayed in reaching th’ rendezvous point, an’ ended up turning back. Unfortunately British intelligence (AKA Creek Indian Scouts) had learned of th’ expedition an’ located th’ cavalry. Those boys were never gonna find out th’ ships weren’t comin’
In times of war th’ victor calls armed conflict a battle. Th’ defeated call it a massacre.
Th’ Creek Indians an’ th’ Queen’s rangers had followed th’ troopers through th’ Florida jungle, an’ had set up an ambush ahead of their route. Meanwhile foot soldiers advanced in three columns behind th’ Scouts an’ Rangers. Altogether, There were 250 enemy men a’waiting in th’ swamps an’ woods of La Florida.
When th’ Cavalry reached th’ ambush ‘round 9:00 am, th’ Brits delivered a surprise volley at 50 yards, from th’ front ‘n’ behind. Artillery cannons could fire up to 350 yards. We were like fish in’a barrel.
That’s what landed me in this here tree. Blown into th’ limbs to be counted ‘s one of Savannah’s first losses. Forty feet below me wuz my dead horse an’ th’ fella that wuz ridin’ next to me… Jenkin’s… or Jasper… or Jackson…or Hell I don’t know. To hard ta tell from th’ damage an’ th’ distance up ‘n this here tree.
Immediately, my fellow mounted Georgia crackers, turned to flee th’ canons an’ th’ Creek scouts, an’ ran directly into th’ oncoming British regulars. About half of th’ Georgians that fled were th’ first in th’ sights of th’ enemy. Musket fire went every which way.
That’s when it dawned on me, Jenkins wasn’t getting up, an’ I ‘tweren’t exactly alive to be heard from up in th’ tree, but I seemed t’ be watchin’ th’ show. So that’s whut’ve been doin’ since.
Th’ ‘merican Patriots, already shaken, were quickly o’erwhelmed by th’ large numbers o’ rangers an’ Indians appearing from deep in th’ bush. They came outta nowhere.
Th’ British broke up an’ scattered th’ rest o’ th’ cav. Outta th’ 100 or so remaining, 6 more were killed, 9 were wounded an’ 30 were captured.
But it gets even darker still.
And believe y’all me! …uhhm…… hangin’ in this tree gave me a full view o’ what happened next… an’ uhh…well… it a’int Purdy.
Once th’ smoke settled an’ th’ prisoners were taken hostage, th’ Creek Indians along with th’ British forces slowly killed a number of th’ captives in cold blood, one by one. Th’ Creeks, in revenge fer th’ death of just one of their own in an earlier skirmish, an’ th’ British because of their servitude to th’ dark heart of Monarchy.
Out of 30 god-fearin’ Georgia crackers. only 8 ‘merican soldiers remained.
It wuz on that day that th’ Florida-Georgia line marked th’ ground where their blood wuz spilled. It wuz on that day that history would remember th’ sacrifices made in th’ name of Liberty an’ Freedom.
I just wanna know when one o’ y’all sum’biches gonna get me down from this tree! Dad-gummit! Send a dang medium y’all! It’s gettin’ boring out-c’here. This Georgia Cracker is tired of yellin’ frem th’ trees!