Decision at Fletcher's Mill

by David Caringer

  “Elizabeth, your grandpa is just afraid. He loves you.”

  Elizabeth felt her eyes begin to tear as she asked, “Afraid of what? Afraid of me leaving? I won’t go! Afraid of my love for him dying? That will never happen!”

  Mona let go of the girl’s hands and lowered her head as she whispered, “He’s afraid of change….”

  The two sat quietly for several seconds until both of them noticed that Ezekiel was beginning to stir.

  The conversation between the two men in the parlor was interrupted by Mona’s voice softly calling Ira from the top of the stairs. Ira remembered Ezekiel’s broken form on the roadbed as he replied, “What is it?” with deep concern.

  He was already headed up the stairs when he heard Mona say, “Zeke is awake, Ira, and he’s asking for you.”

  Ira entered the room to find Elizabeth leaning over Ezekiel as he lay near the edge of the large ornate bed. Zeke’s elderly frame looked small and quite frail in his present condition. A white bloodstained bandage was wrapped around his head so low that Ira could barely see his open eyes blinking in the dim light of the candle.

  Mona said, “He’s awake, but he’s not himself. He barely knows us and he doesn’t remember anything that happened today. He feels cold at his feet and hot at his head. We think he’s starting to fever. I’ve stitched the cut on his head to stop the bleeding. We’ve cleaned him up as best we can, and I don’t know what else to do….”

  Ira gently squeezed his granddaughter’s shoulder as he leaned over to look into Zeke’s face. Ezekiel stared up at him and seemed to focus. He spoke with a deep rasp in his throat, “Reverend, we been workin’ on that large load o’ wheat. I still got near a ton to grind an’ ah….” His voice trailed off to an imperceptible whisper as his eyes slowly went shut.

  Ira said, “What we can do best for him right now is pray. God can do anything, even when we are powerless.” He then added, “I’ve sent young Peter Johansen off to fetch Dr. Scott from over by Winnsborough. The boy should be back with him by tomorrow.” Ira wrapped his arm around Elizabeth as he grasped Ezekiel’s bony old hand.

  Mona stood and watched with overwhelming love for this little family as Ira offered what she thought was a beautiful prayer for his injured friend.

  The prayer was more inflated and churchlike than Ira wanted it to be. His recent struggle with intended malevolence seemed to block his will to speak openly with the Loving Father that he knew God to be. The prayer trailed off to a quiet, “In the Mighty Name of Jesus, amen….” He and Elizabeth sat together this way for several minutes. She was softly sobbing. Ira was desperately searching for something he could say or do to help Zeke and ease Elizabeth’s fear. Ezekiel was asleep again. Ira leaned over and gently kissed his granddaughter on the cheek before rising. He said, “Stay with him, Beth. I’ve still got business to tend to with our militia friends. Let me know if there is any change at all.” With that, he turned and went back downstairs after exchanging a concerned look with Mona.

  Captain Robertson was still seated before the fireplace. Ira joined him, and they continued to stare into the fire as if the light would somehow displace the darkness both men felt. Ira eventually asked, “Do you swear that you can protect this village and my granddaughter, young man?”

  Robertson didn’t flinch as he responded, “You know I can’t do that. I will swear to do my best to make the enemy pay dearly for any attempt on this place and these people!”

  Ira didn’t look away from the fire as he shrugged with resignation. “I will, in any event, allow you to continue to use my mill and its environs for your military needs, Captain….”

  Robertson straightened with restrained surprise. He said, “I wish to reassure you, sir. The main body of the British army has moved into North Carolina. We know that General Greene was sent down by General Washington to rebuild our regulars after that disaster at Camden. We also know that General Greene has dispatched Daniel Morgan south to help us with over a thousand trained men. It seems that Cornwallis knows that. We’ve heard that he has sent Benny Tarleton to chase Morgan with about the same amount of force. We still don’t know how that turned out….”

  Ira interrupted the young captain by turning away from the fire and staring at him again. Ira said, “Even if you did swear to protect us, we both know we are in grave danger here. It would seem, sir, that the only real source of safety for any of us is Almighty God Himself.”

  CHAPTER 9

  The meeting with General Morgan went on for another hour. The plan was worked out in detail that overwhelmed Billy. He and Sergeant Strickland eventually found themselves walking back up the muddy path followed by Dr. Bolt and his assistant who was now burdened with a surprisingly vast amount of medical supplies. The weight was obviously staggering for the thin young man. The assistant spoke exclusively with the doctor and then he used very few words in a foreign language.

  Strickland was walking silently beside Billy in what seemed like rigid march step. Billy couldn’t help changing his stride randomly so that they would be out of step with each other. This clearly annoyed the sergeant who repeatedly skipped a half pace while trying to stay in step without saying anything to this frustrating young upstart. Billy forced himself not to laugh when he realized what was happening. The strange parade continued around the hill to where Sergeant Duncan was waiting with the collected wagons. He was surrounded by an odd assortment of twenty men wearing uniforms, homespun, and rawhide hunting clothes. Privates Howard, Plunkett, Rice, and Rhodes were standing separate from the others.

  Sergeant Duncan called the men into a military formation as the new lieutenant walked up with his small entourage. The men were assembled in three ranks. There were only two sergeants. Billy instinctively realized that he would have to choose between these two. He would appoint one of them as the tactical leader of the men. He would appoint the other to oversee all of the administrative and supply issues. He didn’t know how he understood this. Billy lacked any military training other than what he learned in the brief time he belonged to the militia. In fact, he didn’t have much formal schooling at all. Almost all of the “book learning” he possessed came from his mother and his older sister. The “life learning” mostly came from Silas and brief experience.

  Billy had endured a whirlwind of battle and strange events all day. He started the morning as a private in the North Carolina militia. Now, less than five hours later, he was a new lieutenant with responsibility for an important mission assigned by General Morgan. That was another thing. Last night he was being laughed at by everyone around him because he invented that stupid lie about Daniel Morgan. Now everyone around him was treating him like a hero. The general himself was claiming him as long-lost kin. It was enough to make his head swim. He was terribly hungry, and he hadn’t really slept for quite some time. All of this felt like a strange dream. The battle itself seemed like it couldn’t possibly have happened the way he now remembered it, yet here he was on part of that very battlefield facing all these men.

  Billy still needed to decide between the two sergeants. He knew Sergeant Duncan well. He knew very little about Strickland. The way the man acted since they met with the general made him seem like some kind of marionette. What had the general said though…? “Strickland here is a good sergeant and he knows how to fight just like you.” Billy couldn’t remember much of the rest except that it was something about Strickland’s weakness for spirits. He considered this important choice now while absently watching the doctor and his assistant carefully load their equipment into one of the large wagons. The two odd men were engaged in a quiet technical debate in their strange foreign language.

  Billy eventually decided what to do and stepped over to speak with both sergeants in a low voice. He started by introducing the two men to each other. He then leaned close and said, “Look here now. I have great respect for both of you. Sergeant Duncan well knows that until a short time ago, I was a private in the ranks.” Duncan smiled and nodded. Billy continued, “I’
ve come to know that Sergeant Duncan is very diligent in overseeing the things we’ve needed in the field. He has always been fair when it came to dividing food, water, and ammunition. I know him as a man of character who can be trusted in any situation.” Duncan smiled again and mumbled a subdued thanks. Billy went on, “General Morgan said some good things about Sergeant Strickland and his fighting ability. I know I can trust the general’s judgement even though I lack experience in these things.”

  Billy deliberately chose not to say anything about Strickland’s alleged history of problems with alcohol. Sergeant Strickland looked him directly in the eyes. There was the faintest show of gratitude in the man’s almost unblinking gaze, but Billy caught it all the same. It meant a great deal to Billy in that moment. “I’ve decided that I’m going to ask Sergeant Strickland for advice and counsel in all tactical matters. Sergeant Strickland, you will act as my second with the men. If something happens to me, you will take command. You understand the mission as well as I do. You’re one of few professional soldiers we will have with us.” He paused for a second and then turned to the other man. “Sergeant Duncan, you have a way with the men and a way with their supplies. I want you to handle all of our administrative needs. I’ll defer to you for advice and counsel in all matters regarding the men’s equipment, weapons, ammunition, and rations. This will be no easy task.

  “We’re going to escort these wagons filled with seriously wounded men and a large amount of critical supplies. We have to cover a considerable distance over rough ground. The Tories and Lobsters are scattered all over the place out here. We’ve been ordered to get these wounded men to some safe place where the surgeon can give them better attention. The general also told me to get these supply wagons to our militia friends at a place called Fletcher’s Mill as quickly as possible. We’re to move north to rejoin the main army under General Greene after we make these deliveries.”

  Sergeant Strickland glanced at the formation of men. Duncan seemed to realize what he was thinking even though Billy missed it. Duncan turned around and shouted for the men to fall out and continue to ready their personal equipment. Billy realized that this interaction between the two men was a very good sign. He didn’t see that the men had been standing there for several minutes waiting for him to tell them what to do. Both sergeants noticed it, though, and they communicated without speaking. The appropriate sergeant took immediate action, and Billy was served without any lecture or embarrassment at his failure.

  General Morgan had given him a carefully drawn map. It showed their intended route and all known information about possible friends and enemies along the way. The distance was approximately forty miles as the crow flies. Their route would take them over broken terrain using any available concealment. The countryside would be covered with pockets of Tory sympathy and British patrols. These would have to be avoided. The small convoy would cross the Broad River and several rain-swollen creeks. The direction was roughly southeast.

  General Morgan made it clear that their highest priority, if attacked, was to protect the military stores. The wounded men were important, but their value paled in comparison to the priceless weapons, powder, shot, and assorted military supplies. Billy produced the map and spread it out in the back of one of the wagons. He roughly understood how to carry out the mission, but he lacked confidence and wasn’t sure what to expect from the men with him. They spent the next half hour discussing the situation until Billy fully grasped what needed to happen.

  A great deal of preparation was accomplished over the next few hours. Billy and the two sergeants organized their small company into three squads. He didn’t know if he had the authority to do it, but he promoted privates Howard, Rice, and Plunkett to temporary corporal rank. The corporals were each put in charge of one of the three squads. This seemed to fit right in with everything else. The newly promoted corporals worked well together and managed to get all of the supplies loaded into the wagons. The loads were covered with canvas tarpaulins to keep the powder dry and the loose equipment from falling out on the rough terrain.

  Sergeant Duncan and several privates worked with the doctor and his assistant to carefully load the wounded men. They stacked the men into the wagon by laying three of them on the bed of the box cushioned with blankets. The others were arranged across the top of the box on stretchers. The doctor insisted that the men on stretchers were tied down to keep them from rolling off. Two wounded men died before the expedition even started. The surgeon was forced to amputate limbs from both of these men earlier. They later died of shock. It looked like the rest of them might survive. This would be the last wagon in the train. The assistant would drive. The doctor would walk alongside or ride in the back with the wounded men.

  Billy talked with the doctor at length in regard to the critical medical needs. They studied the map together looking for any place that might offer the security and protection from the elements that the patients needed. Both realized that the best thing they could do for the men was to transport them all the way to Fletcher’s Mill as quickly as possible. There didn’t seem to be anywhere else along the route that would meet the doctor’s needs without surrendering the men to the unreliable mercy of their enemies. A makeshift tent of sorts was built over the top of the wagon bed to retain some needed warmth and to keep the men dry.

  Billy thought it would be a miracle if any of the wounded survived this journey. He again started to fret for Silas. Billy made it a point to spend a few minutes with his friend before he was loaded onto the wagon. Silas was conscious and in terrific pain. Billy tried to cheer him a little by telling him what transpired with General Morgan and his promotion. Silas was pleased that Billy had survived the battle and earned a reputation for courage and leadership in the middle of it all. Talking made him cough, though, and coughing brought him agony. Billy finally wished him well and nodded for the waiting soldiers to load his friend along with the others.

  Sergeant Duncan took control and politely stopped Billy several times from personally getting involved in the labor. Sergeant Strickland mysteriously wandered off somewhere. Billy began to suspect that he may have found the “spirit stores” as suggested earlier by General Morgan. Billy’s frustration with Strickland led him to get ever more involved in the work at hand. Duncan finally pulled him aside for what sounded like a fatherly chat. He explained that he understood how any new lieutenant must feel when there was work to do and he wanted it done a certain way. He explained that this was “sergeant’s work.” Young officers were to tell the sergeants what they wanted, then leave it to the sergeants to get it done. In other words, Billy was to stay out of the way while older and wiser men saw to the needed work.

  Billy sat down on a fallen log at the side of the trail after this conversation. He began to meticulously clean his rifle while preparations went on around him. He was doing this when Strickland marched up with an unexpected companion. The other man was not a regular continental soldier. His long hair protruded from beneath a weather-beaten slouch hat. He wore buckskin trousers and shirt with no jacket. A length of heavy fur was rolled and draped crosswise from his left shoulder to his right hip and fastened to his leather belt at that point. The belt held many of the same items Billy carried, only more of them. These included a tomahawk and two long cavalry horse-pistols. The man carried his long rifle with a deft familiarity that told Billy a great deal without words being spoken. His face was deeply worn so that it looked almost like the tanned leather of his shirt and trousers. He wore high moccasins on his feet and walked with an animallike sure-footed gait. The two men stopped in front of Billy and stared at him without speaking until he stood up.

  Billy finally couldn’t take it any longer. “Sergeant Strickland, who is this and where have you been?” Strickland hesitated. Billy blurted, “Stand easy, Sergeant!” Strickland visibly relaxed, but it was as if he had been given the command “Parade rest.” Billy said, “Look, Strickland, stop acting like this! I can’t stand it anymore! Look at me when I’m talkin
g to you!”

  The sergeant turned his head and stared directly into Billy’s eyes while he replied, “Yes, sir!” The strange-looking man next to the sergeant edged slowly away as if he expected a physical fight to ensue.

  Billy took a deep breath and let it out slowly in a manner oddly similar to what he did as he was aiming his rifle. Staring into Strickland’s eyes without flinching, he felt like he was engaged in some type of contest with the man.

  Billy quietly asked, “What is it, Strickland? What’s bothering you about me?”

  Strickland seemed surprised, either by the question or the way it was asked. He hesitated. Then, as if he changed his mind about something, he replied, “It’s your blasted uncle … sir.”

  Billy couldn’t conceal his surprise as he straightened up and said, “What…? My uncle? You mean General Morgan?”

  Strickland looked straight ahead again as he said, “Yes, sir. The general, sir.”

  Billy didn’t want to discuss the relative strength of the Morgan family relationship. “What about the general?”

  The wild-looking man and Sergeant Strickland were clearly friends or at least closely acquainted. Billy would learn that the man’s name was John Red. Strickland gave Red a brief sideways glance now as if to gain resolve. He hesitated, then asked, “Do I have your permission to speak freely, sir?” Billy nodded. A deliberate calm slowly asserted itself over the sergeant. He relaxed his posture with effort and turned to fully face the young lieutenant. “You see, sir, it’s like this. The colonel … I mean … the general, when he was just a colonel, used to pick me out for a volunteer for all the jobs nobody else would take…. He said it was ‘cause I was the most likely Yankee he could ever find and he just hates Yankees…. He’s done stuck me on some of the lowest worst jobs anyone could imagine all the way from before that awful winter at Valley Forge. In every fight, he keeps pushing me into the worst of it. Finally I thought I was free of him when I came south with the Maryland boys. Then he up and shows again, and now he’s a general and all.”