In another time on another day, by the great Hooghly River, Stood a mighty structure, a fort, a symbol of imperial power. Here the river snaked and bent, on its way out to the sea, an important trading avenue, but alas, plagued by piracy. Across these waters sailed many ships, bearing cargoes precious and dear, attacked suddenly, robbed and destroyed, by bloodthirsty buccaneers. Thus was built the grand fort, protector of the innocent who sailed by, keeping a lookout on the horizon, hidden from the ordinary eye.
Here arrived one fine September eve, in the year of our lord, 1783, General Reginald Watson, his family and trusted sixty-five, in all their glory. The days went by, peaceful and orderly, prosperous and calm, land and water in harmony, protected by the general and his men-at-arms.
The General's daughter, fresh as a flower, the beautiful, doe-eyed Caroline, met the strapping young Sergeant James Huntly, gentleman and soldier fine. A wonderful spell, magical and intoxicating, wove itself round the young and reckless, enchanted and drunk on the heady wine of youth, they made lifelong promises.
Those were the sweetest of days, of love, longing, laughter and yearning, as dreams were dreamt, vows were kept, love's light strongly burning. They nurtured a dream, of faraway home, a life to call their own, No more days in secrecy, bound by rules in lands unknown.
One dark and stormy night, amid choppy waters, thunder, lighting and doom, the Sea Queen lowers anchor, the lovers see hope, a miraculous boon. Nothing but a few words left behind, the lovers leave with naught but hope in their hearts, but they are attacked as soon as they cast off, already beyond the safety of the ramparts.
Guns blaze, the dying scream, the Queen she flounders in the hellish nightmare, the soldiers, they try to rescue the poor soul, but can do nothing but stare. The walls give way under cannon fire, the General is weary, his will broken, his wife finds the maiden's letter, sobs over Caroline's last known token.
Lives are ended, the battle lost, the Watsons never see daylight, the fort is ruined and abandoned, its grandeur lost forever in the darkest night.For scores of years, it stoops in misery, ravaged by war, the sun and rain, till one day in the modern age, it was rediscovered and promised its glory again.
The sweat, tears and blood of the new knights in their shining amour, steely resolution, saw an ambition take shape, grow from a seed, guiding it towards glorious fruition. A new age dawns, on of hope and peace and harmony, golden days.
The Ffort stands tall again, bathed in splendors and kissed by a new sun's ray.