No Taxes
16-08-2007, 19:28
The tall grass swayed and bent in the breeze, uniform apart from the path made by the prince's hunting party. It was the third day of the hunt and the dying rays of the sun cast a reddish glow over the landscape. They had been tracking a young male elephant that had become injured and separated from its herd for two days now, and the guides believed that they might be able to go in for the kill sometime soon. Hunting had always been a favorite pastime of the oldest prince and he was a veteran of many long treks into the African wilderness. This particular expedition was rather small with only some two dozen slaves and guides and a dozen guards, but the prince was not overly worried. Thus the first signs that they might be being tracked themselves were ignored and when the ambush was sprung Prince Teodosio and his guards were slaughtered quickly. The slaves, without weapons and expecting death, were surprised to see that it had been what appeared to be former slaves who had ambushed the hunting party and were even more surprised when they were handed weapons.
All across the Western part of the African Portuguese colonies, a slave-trading country's worst nightmare was taking place, as slaves were taking up arms in rebellion. It had started on the northwest edge of the colony, where several plantations, known for their cruelty to slaves, were overrun, looted and torched. It might have been contained there, but at that same time most of the local garrison was off to the north fighting some of the periodic nomadic raiders from the north. The slaves overran the underguarded outpost and capturing the weapons continued to head south and east gathering steam. Only around 9% of the colony's population was European and there were over half a million slaves in the colony not to mention millions of Africans who would only be too happy to see anything that lessened the power of the Europeans. When a group of the escaped slaves came upon Prince Teodosio's hunting party they took his head and once mounted upon a stake it become the symbol of the revolt.
Fort Paulino was a small outpost roughly 60 miles northwest of Ibadan was a small garrison of roughly 350 soldiers. 'Outpost' would have been a better term as it consisted of several central barracks surrounded by a rough, wooden palisade. It was built solely to ward off raiders from the north and protect the Portuguese settlements in the area. The commanding officer, Don Carlos Tiago, was a Portuguese noble who had been left with very little but a title thanks to his late father. He had decided to seek his fortunes in the colonies and had ended up here where he was given command of the garrison due to his title of nobility. It was not a glorious job, but at least he had found a profession and a home, or at least that is what he thought about it. This particular day was hot and sunny and looked to be one of those days where nothing much happened, at least until Jose and Bartolomeu had come running down from the nearby hill screaming about a large party of armed Africans coming there way.
"Sir we were looking at them and they don't look like raiders from the north. Most of them were wearing slaves clothes and a lot of them have good weapons and armor, looks like they stole it somewhere," Bartolomeu said, breathing heavily.
"Just hold on a second," said Carlos, "Calm down, how many do you think there were?"
"At least 5,000, maybe even 10,000."
Mother of God, thought Carlos, "Ok, I want you two to go down to Ibadan and tell the garrison there what has happened, but make sure they don't try and send reinforcements, because by the time they got here it would be too late. We'll try and hold them as long as we can."
"But, sir, surely we can send some help," pleaded Jose and Bartolomeu.
"No, you have to let Ibadan know what happened, because if they're overrun there, the rebels would have a free run all the way to the coast. Now go," ordered Carlos.
Jose and Bartolomeu took off, riding southwest. Carlos turned to his second-in-command and called for the troops to assemble.
"Men, I have some bad news for you. There's a big group of armed slaves coming this way and they seem to have overrun some other outpost because they have a lot of our weapons."
"Don't worry sir," called one of the men, "We'll whip 'em for you."
"I admire your enthusiasm son, but there are at least 5000 of them, yet the good news is that Ibadan is going to be sending their whole garrison out here to relieve us. We just have to hold till they get here. So let's show these blacks how real men fight."
They didn't have enough men to cover the entire palisade, so Carlos split his pikemen and musketeers into 10 small groups that would be spread along the palisade, with the pikemen in front and the musketeers behind them. The dismounted cavalry would act as a reserve to rush to wherever it seemed like the slaves would break through. The slaves came at them pretty orderly, thought Carlos, considering that they were slaves. Luckily most of them had no idea how to use the muskets they had captured and for several hours the slaves rushed at the palisades in waves only to be beaten back by the long pikes and musket fire. However the men began to tire and they began to run out of gunpowder and the slaves eventually broke through the south side of the palisade. Once they were inside it was over, for the fighting degenerated into melee combat in which long pikes and muskets were useless and the slaves, strong from doing physical work their entire lives, were just as good at this type of fighting as were the Portuguese soldiers.
When they were only about 50 of them left, a soldier next to Carlos asked, "Sir, there never were any reinforcements coming were there?"
Carlos was saved from having to answer the question when a slave's blade sliced neatly through his lower right arm.
All across the Western part of the African Portuguese colonies, a slave-trading country's worst nightmare was taking place, as slaves were taking up arms in rebellion. It had started on the northwest edge of the colony, where several plantations, known for their cruelty to slaves, were overrun, looted and torched. It might have been contained there, but at that same time most of the local garrison was off to the north fighting some of the periodic nomadic raiders from the north. The slaves overran the underguarded outpost and capturing the weapons continued to head south and east gathering steam. Only around 9% of the colony's population was European and there were over half a million slaves in the colony not to mention millions of Africans who would only be too happy to see anything that lessened the power of the Europeans. When a group of the escaped slaves came upon Prince Teodosio's hunting party they took his head and once mounted upon a stake it become the symbol of the revolt.
Fort Paulino was a small outpost roughly 60 miles northwest of Ibadan was a small garrison of roughly 350 soldiers. 'Outpost' would have been a better term as it consisted of several central barracks surrounded by a rough, wooden palisade. It was built solely to ward off raiders from the north and protect the Portuguese settlements in the area. The commanding officer, Don Carlos Tiago, was a Portuguese noble who had been left with very little but a title thanks to his late father. He had decided to seek his fortunes in the colonies and had ended up here where he was given command of the garrison due to his title of nobility. It was not a glorious job, but at least he had found a profession and a home, or at least that is what he thought about it. This particular day was hot and sunny and looked to be one of those days where nothing much happened, at least until Jose and Bartolomeu had come running down from the nearby hill screaming about a large party of armed Africans coming there way.
"Sir we were looking at them and they don't look like raiders from the north. Most of them were wearing slaves clothes and a lot of them have good weapons and armor, looks like they stole it somewhere," Bartolomeu said, breathing heavily.
"Just hold on a second," said Carlos, "Calm down, how many do you think there were?"
"At least 5,000, maybe even 10,000."
Mother of God, thought Carlos, "Ok, I want you two to go down to Ibadan and tell the garrison there what has happened, but make sure they don't try and send reinforcements, because by the time they got here it would be too late. We'll try and hold them as long as we can."
"But, sir, surely we can send some help," pleaded Jose and Bartolomeu.
"No, you have to let Ibadan know what happened, because if they're overrun there, the rebels would have a free run all the way to the coast. Now go," ordered Carlos.
Jose and Bartolomeu took off, riding southwest. Carlos turned to his second-in-command and called for the troops to assemble.
"Men, I have some bad news for you. There's a big group of armed slaves coming this way and they seem to have overrun some other outpost because they have a lot of our weapons."
"Don't worry sir," called one of the men, "We'll whip 'em for you."
"I admire your enthusiasm son, but there are at least 5000 of them, yet the good news is that Ibadan is going to be sending their whole garrison out here to relieve us. We just have to hold till they get here. So let's show these blacks how real men fight."
They didn't have enough men to cover the entire palisade, so Carlos split his pikemen and musketeers into 10 small groups that would be spread along the palisade, with the pikemen in front and the musketeers behind them. The dismounted cavalry would act as a reserve to rush to wherever it seemed like the slaves would break through. The slaves came at them pretty orderly, thought Carlos, considering that they were slaves. Luckily most of them had no idea how to use the muskets they had captured and for several hours the slaves rushed at the palisades in waves only to be beaten back by the long pikes and musket fire. However the men began to tire and they began to run out of gunpowder and the slaves eventually broke through the south side of the palisade. Once they were inside it was over, for the fighting degenerated into melee combat in which long pikes and muskets were useless and the slaves, strong from doing physical work their entire lives, were just as good at this type of fighting as were the Portuguese soldiers.
When they were only about 50 of them left, a soldier next to Carlos asked, "Sir, there never were any reinforcements coming were there?"
Carlos was saved from having to answer the question when a slave's blade sliced neatly through his lower right arm.