Lewis was, once again, on an extended patrol in search of the elusive Cherokee. He discovered that it was much harder to keep watch in the forests of the western wilderness of North Carolina during the warmer months. The thickening undergrowth and ample vegetation provided far too many places for the enemy to hide and set ambushes. He had to be extremely attentive and extra careful.
His discovery of evidence of an Indian camp just five miles from the settlements made his stomach churn. He had been tracking the Indians for the past two hours. They seemed to be heading toward the center of the Watauga villages.
Lewis snapped to attention as his hair bristled on his neck. He had caught a faint scent of Indians. It was a distinctively earthy aroma, originating from a mixture of dirt, smoke, and unwashed body odor. He knew that the natives were close by. A few minutes later he smelled smoke.
He saw a small cave cut into the hillside to his left. Lewis quickly and silently guided his horse toward the mouth of the cave. He tied the animal to a small tree that grew up against the steep hillside.
Lewis patted the animal on the neck and whispered into its ear, “I’ll be right back, Molly. You stay put and don’t make any noise.”
The horse flicked its ears and gave him a nudge with her nose. Lewis scratched the pink skin of her nose and then turned and trotted off into the undergrowth. He moved stealthily and silently in his elk-hide pucker-toed moccasins. He slowly worked his way left along the hill toward its crest.
He froze in absolute stillness when he heard the murmuring of voices carrying over the top of the ridge. He squatted behind a tree, barely breathing, and listened to make sure that he had not been discovered. He heard the distinctive melody of the Cherokee language and an abundance of laughter.
“Good,” he thought. “They don’t suspect that I am here.”
For the next fifteen minutes Lewis crept silently toward the top of the ridge. He was careful not to disturb a single twig or leaf. He attempted to melt into his surroundings and become part of the forest. He needed to know what these Cherokee were up to, and he had to remain undetected in order to spy on them.
Lewis’s set his sights on a large rock that jutted out from the base of a huge hickory tree. He hoped that the narrow opening between the two would provide perfect cover for him and allow him to survey the Indians down below. Moments later he reached his goal. He removed his hat and ever-so-slowly raised up his head to peer over the top of the hill.
He gasped when he saw the Indians below. There were over twenty of them gathered near a slow-moving creek. They had two small fires burning and were roasting venison over the coals. The carcass of the deer lay on a large rock near the creek. Several of the Cherokee stood and munched on pieces the raw liver of the animal. Blood ran down their arms.
Their ponies were tied in a large cluster beside the water. The Indians were well-armed and obviously prepared for battle. This was a Cherokee raiding party. There could be no doubt about it. There were too many of them to simply be out hunting. They were headed for Watauga to take scalps and women.
“I have to get back and warn the militia!” Lewis thought.
He turned and eased back down the hill as quickly as he could. He knew that it was imperative that he remain silent as he evacuated the scene. These Cherokee would have no mercy on him.
Several minutes later he reached his mount. The horse nodded and pawed when she saw Lewis, but made no other noise.
Lewis patted her on the head. “Good girl,” he whispered.
He walked and led the horse over a quarter of a mile … until he was well out of range of the Cherokee ears … then he mounted his horse and rode fast toward the settlements.
***
It was almost an hour later when Lewis topped the last ridge that led down into the Watauga villages. He drew to a stop on top of the ridge, pulled his first pistol and fired a warning shot. Thirty seconds later he pulled his other pistol and fired a second shot. He tucked both pistols back into his leather belt, snapped the reins, and yelled at his horse. The animal kicked into a hard run as she finished the last leg of her difficult journey.
Lewis heard bells ringing the alarm as he emerged into the center of the main town. Colonel John Sevier and several of his officers were gathered there. Lewis slide to a stop in front of them. Other men began to gather around.
“What is it Lewis?” asked the colonel. “Why the alarm?”
Lewis jumped down off of his horse. “Sir, I tracked and spied on a Cherokee war party to the south.”
“How far out?” asked the colonel.
“Less than five miles.”
The colonel’s eyes grew wide. “That close? How many?”
“I counted two dozen of them sir, all armed for battle.”
“Did you get close enough to make sure?”
Lewis smiled. “I spied on them from the ridge just above. I was about thirty yards from them.”
The militiamen smiled and nodded. The colonel grinned. “That close, huh?”
Lewis nodded humbly. “Give or take. I was close enough to smell their stinky armpits.”
The men gathered around laughed.
“What were they doing?” asked the colonel.
“They were cooking and eating, sir. They had a small doe skinned beside a creek and were roasting venison. They didn’t appear to be in a hurry to me. They were in high spirits, laughing and conversing. And they were well-armed. There were rifles, pistols, and bows strapped all over their ponies. It’s a war party, sure enough.”
“Excellent report, scout. You’ve given us the advantage of surprise. We’ll take it from here. The militia will be assembled and on the move within the hour. You just head on home and get some hot food and rest. We’ll let you know when our men return.”
“Yes, sir. I’m a might bit tired and hungry. I’ve been out in the woods for three days.”
Colonel Sevier patted Lewis on the shoulder. “You’re a good scout, Mr. Hammock. I wish you would think about staying here with us when your folks go back to Georgia.”
Lewis grinned. “I promise I’ll think about it, sir.”
“Excellent. Now get. I’ll see you in a few days.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Lewis trotted over to his horse and climbed up into the saddle. He pointed her toward the west and headed for his cabin and some of his mama’s home cooking.
***
It was late on a June afternoon. Robert knew that he was getting closer to his family’s mountain cabin in Watauga. He was ecstatic about seeing them again. Just three months earlier he had departed these mountains to return to the war. He was determined to fight until Georgia was liberated from the British. He was determined to take his family back home.
Now those events, which only a short time ago seemed like remote, distant possibilities, had become reality. Robert and Georgia’s Regiment of Refugees had taken part in the siege and liberation of Augusta. The Tory Colonel “Burnfoot” Brown had been defeated. The British and Tories had fled the backcountry and were barely hanging in Savannah and along the coast.
The Regiment of Refugees was disbanded. Many of the men had already returned to their frontier homes. Many others, like Robert, were headed to Watauga to get their families.
Robert had finally reached the mountains. He knew that he was only minutes away from Milly and the children. His heart felt lighter with each step of his trusty horse. How surprised they would all be! He was guiding his horse through a narrow, dry creek bed when he heard movement to his left. He swiftly drew his horse to a stop and hid behind the trunk of a large tree.
He listened carefully and heard the sound of another horse. He drew a pistol from his belt and quietly pulled the hammer back to full cock, then gently tilted his head to the right to peek from behind the tree.
The sound of the other horse stopped. Robert knew that he had been discovered. His heart raced as he scanned the woods for some sign of another human. He jumped just a bit when he saw a set of eyes pee
ring at him from behind a large boulder.
But they were very familiar eyes.
And then there was a familiar voice. “Papa?” the voice exclaimed.
It was Lewis!
Robert’s face broke into a huge smile as he released the cock on his pistol and tucked it back into his belt. He guided his horse from behind the tree. He and Lewis met in the center of the gravel creek bed. Both men jumped from their horses and embraced one another.
“Lewis, what are you doing wandering around in the woods by yourself?”
“I just got back off of a long-range patrol. I found a Cherokee war party five miles to the southwest and just now made my report to Colonel Sevier. I’m headed back home now to rest up and get some food.”
“You were out by yourself?”
“Yes, sir. We Indian spies work alone.” He grinned broadly. “What are you doing home so soon? Mama is going to have a fit!”
“It’s over, son. Brown surrendered Augusta. The British are in Savannah now and likely leaving Georgia altogether. There’s peace on the frontier. The Creeks have moved west. Georgia is free!”
“So we’re going home now?” asked Lewis.
“Yes, son. It is safe now. We can go home.”
Lewis grinned. “Let’s go tell Mama!”
***
It was about a half-hour before sunset when Robert and Lewis came over the low ridge to the east of the cabin. The entire family was outside, enjoying the cool shade provided by the high canopy of trees. Robert smiled when he saw his beautiful wife sitting on a stool and leaning back against the wall of the cabin. Her bonnet was off and he could see her shiny, auburn hair.
Some of the children saw the riders approaching and cautiously watched them approach down the trail, unsure about who was riding beside Lewis. When they were about thirty yards from the house Robert heard his son Joshua squeal, “It’s Papa! Mama! Robbie! John! It’s Lewis and he’s found Papa!”
That word, “Papa,” traveled like wildfire among the children. All of them burst into screaming, “Papa! Papa! Papa!”
The entire family took off running toward them. Even Milly ran to meet her husband. They met at the spot where the trail met the clearing beside the cabin. Robert jumped from his horse and tumbled into the arms of his family. They covered him with hugs and kisses. Milly fought her way through the crowd of squealing children to get her turn. She wrapped her arms around her husband’s strong neck. He lifted her up off of the ground and hugged her close.
“Why are you back so soon?” she asked. “It’s only been three months. Did you get another furlough?”
Robert grinned and kissed his wife on the lips.
“No, my love. It’s over.”
“You mean the war is over?” she exclaimed.
“Well, ours is.” He smiled broadly. “Augusta is liberated. Brown has surrendered. The Tories are all gone from the backcountry. Their militiamen are in prison in South Carolina.”
“What are we going to do now?” asked Milly.
“We are going home, my love. That is what we are going to do. We are going home to Georgia … for good.”
***
Three days later the Hammock family packed all of their belongings on their horses and began their trek back to Georgia.
Three months later the Patriot armies and the French navy cornered General Lord Cornwallis and the British armies at a place called Yorktown, Virginia. Cornwallis surrendered. The war was over.
Then the British began their trek back to England, leaving the United States in freedom and in peace.
THE REAL LEWIS HAMMOCK
AND HIS FAMILY
Most of the central characters in this story were real people. Some, but not all, of the peripheral characters were real, as well. I attempted to develop their personalities as I interpreted them across two hundred and fifty years of time. I hope that I did them justice.
Robert Hammock II (1737-1799) was my 5th great-grandfather through my father’s mother’s family line. This novel blends the truths of his history with the “literary license” of historical fiction. His service in the Regiment of Refugees of Richmond County is well-documented, and he is a recognized Patriot of the American Revolution by both the Daughters and the Sons of the American Revolution. After the war he brought his family back to Georgia and resettled his original headright lands. He also received additional acreage as a bounty for his service in the Revolution. Robert Hammock became a modest planter in northern Georgia and died there in 1799. His son, Lewis, was executor of his estate.
Millenor Jackson Hammock survived her husband and lived to the ripe old age of ninety-two, dying in Georgia in 1832. She received acreage from the state of Georgia in a land lottery for widows of Revolutionary War veterans in the early 1800’s. In 2015 I had her recognized by the Sons of the American Revolution for her Patriotic Service. She swore a deposition in the Georgia Indian Depredation Claims in the 1820’s in which she described an Indian attack upon her family’s household and the loss of some horses. That testimony, combined with her husband’s status as a Refugee soldier, provided sufficient evidence of her Patriotic Service.
Lewis Hammock was my fourth great-grandfather. Though I have examined every document that I can possibly find, I cannot locate any evidence of his service in the Revolution. However, he served in the Wilkes County Militia in September 1793 as a sergeant and commanded a detachment in the frontier wars against the Creek Indians. His brother, Joshua, served as a private in his unit. The fact that he served as a sergeant in that conflict would seem to indicate that he had prior military service, most likely in a partisan unit during the Revolution.
The last individual that I want to address from my story is the slave named Frank. The entire story line that centers on Frank in this novel is fictitious in its entirety. However, Frank was actually a real person. There is only one documentary record that exists which named Frank. Robert Hammock did, indeed, inherit “a negro boy named Frank” from his maternal grandfather, William Hugh Lambert, in 1765 … the same year that Lewis Hammock was born. Since no other record exists that mentions Frank, I took the liberty of building a story around him that would honor the slaves and other men of color who faithfully and valiantly served the Patriot cause in the American Revolution.
It has been my honor and joy to explore the history of these great Patriots and to share with you what might have been their story.
Geoff Baggett
REVOLUTIONARY WAR GLOSSARY
Breeches – These were the pants of the colonial period. They were secured with buttons and baggy in the seat. The pants reached just below the knee. Men typically wore long socks that covered their lower leg and extended up over the knee.
Brown Bess – This is the name given to the British Army’s military musket. They were mass-produced, smooth-barreled flintlock weapons that fired a .75 caliber (¾ inch) round lead ball.
Charlestown – The colonial name of Charleston, South Carolina. It was founded in 1670 and named after King Charles II of England.
Continental Army – Soldiers in the federal army of the United States as authorized by the Continental Congress.
Dragoons – A special type of soldier in the British army. They were “mounted infantry” who could either fight on horseback or on foot.
English Saddle - These were typical horse saddles used before the development of the western saddle. These older saddles did not have a saddle horn, which was used in the western United States in roping cattle. Instead, they had a small hump between the knees of the rider that was known as the “pommel.”
Flintlock – The type of weapons, loaded through the muzzle, used during the American Revolution.
Ford – A shallow place in a river that provided good footing so that travelers could walk across on the river bottom rather than swimming or being ferried across.
Freedmen – Former slaves who were set free by their masters.
Freedom Papers – Special documents given to freedmen by their for
mer masters. These documents proved the free status of those who held them and served as insurance against any accusation of being a runaway slave.
Frizzen – The part of a flintlock weapon that the flint strikes to make a spark and ignite the gunpowder.
Gallows – Structures used for the execution of criminals by hanging.
Huzzah – A joyful shout, and the early form of the modern word, “hoorah,” or “hooray.”
Indentured Servitude – This was a form of “voluntary slavery” in which poor people signed over their freedom to wealthy people for a set period of time. In return for their years of servitude they earned something such as passage by ship to America, the learning of a work trade, or shelter and food.
Indian – A traditional term used to refer to Native Americans. The term arose out of the confusion of early explorers. When they arrived in the Americas they thought that they had reached the east coast of India. Therefore they referred to the native peoples as “Indians.” The name “stuck” and became a word of common use in the United States.
Injun – The slang word for “Indian.”
King’s Highway – The British east coast highway that ran all the way from Boston to Charleston. It was later extended to Savannah, Georgia.
Leggings – Also known as “Gaiters,” these were protective garments for the lower legs. They were often made of wool, canvas, cotton, or animal skins. They were secured with buttons or straps and served to protect and insulate the exposed lower leg between the breeches and shoes.
Litter – A makeshift vehicle used to transport sick or wounded soldiers. It was often made of cloth or animal skins suspended between two poles. It could be carried by people on foot or dragged behind a horse.
Livery – A business found in many towns that served the owners of horses. Also known as a livery stable, it was a place where a person could secure food, care, and housing for their horses overnight.
Little Warrior: Boy Patriot of Georgia (Patriot Kids of the American Revolution Series Book 2) Page 17