Fighting Marines- Hardy's Challenge

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Fighting Marines- Hardy's Challenge Page 9

by Perry Comer


  “Thank you sir,” Brooks said.

  The way that Brooks answered did not escape Hardy’s attention. He knew that underneath the pretend jovial demeanor a demon lurked. He thought it best to address it.

  Hardy met Brooks’ eyes, “After a fight such as the one we had, men die and others are maimed. The memories intrude into our dreams and haunt us by day. It is the way of things, it is a soldier’s lot.” Hardy paused, nodded as to reassure himself and said, “There will be another fight, more men will die and be maimed, perhaps one will be me or perhaps you. No matter, there will be other fights, battles and wars; more will die, and it is the way of the world. We do our duty for our duty is all we have.”

  Brooks sighed, “Aye, sir,” he managed and lowered his eyes to his plate.

  They drank the remaining coffee without speaking. Once finished, Hardy asked, “What of your wound?”

  “Sore but I’m sure it will not hinder me further? What of yours?”

  Hardy unconsciously put a hand on the wound. “Has an itch and a burning once in a while, but as you, it’ll not hinder me.”

  Hardy rose from the table. “I will go across to the island and secure more men. See to our supplies and our wounded while I am away. The pistols are to go back onto the ass, we may have need of them.”

  Brooks answered, “Aye, sir.”

  Sergeant Austin met Hardy on the beach. The sergeant looked as if he just stepped off the parade ground, his uniform was spotless and his boots shone. He saluted and Hardy returned his salute.

  “I’ll get right to it Sergeant Austin, I’m in need of five men who have faced fire,” Hardy said as he strode up the beach toward the camp.

  “Aye, sir, but I’ve not five not even one. These lads are all fine lads, but they’ve not fired a shot in a fight. If it’s fighting men you’ve come for, you will have to look elsewhere.”

  “How many men have you in camp?” Hardy asked.

  “Forty-five, sir,” Austin answered.

  “Form them up Sergeant and I will choose out five,” Hardy ordered.

  Austin stopped; they were at the edge of the camp. “Beg pardon Lieutenant but you can’t just take men without any proper orders. Captain Williams . . .

  Hardy cut him off, “That’s why I’m here Sergeant, they are to report to him at Amelia Island. They will be accompanying him to transport munitions and supplies. Form them up Sergeant!”

  “Aye, sir!” Austin answered and added, “But I’ll not send them without written orders!”

  Hardy lost his patience, “By gawd, you’ll have your written order, as soon as I’ve selected the men! Now form them up, I’ve not all day!”

  The men formed up into three ranks. Hardy considered asking for volunteers but decided against it. He wanted men who could and would fight not those who wanted to escape the drudgery of camp life on this sandspit. The men he wanted, he would choose, men who his eye told him wouldn’t shy away from a fight. He examined the first line fifteen men. None caught his eye. In the second rank he stopped in front of a squat marine a head shorter than himself with heavy eyebrows and a scowl on his face.

  “Name?” Hardy asked.

  “Blackenshire, sir!”

  “Age?”

  “Twenty-eight, sir!”

  “Fall out Blackenshire and fetch your kit!”

  “Aye, sir!” the man answered with a hint of a smile.

  Four men down from Blackenshire was a man of his own height, fair complexion and a sharp nose.

  “Name?” Hardy asked.

  “Rhodes, sir!”

  “Age?”

  “Twenty, sir!”

  “Where do you hail from?”

  “Boston!” Rhodes answered leaving off sir.

  Hardy thought he remembered the man, he had seen him at Archibald’s home. No doubt, he remembered as well.

  “My cousin is well?” Hardy asked.

  “I’d not know,” Rhodes answered.

  “He dismissed you?”

  “He did!”

  “Fall our Rhodes and fetch your kit!”

  Rhodes stood still, his eyes locked on Hardy’s.

  Hardy grinned and said, “I need men who will fight and prove themselves, I take you for such a man. Are you?”

  “Aye, sir!” Rhodes answered and left his place in the rank.

  In the back rank Hardy selected three men, an Irishman named Murphy, a black named Smith and a man from Virginia named Creech.

  “Sergeant Austin have you paper and ink in your tent?” Hardy asked.

  “Aye, sir,” Austin answered with reluctance.

  Hardy seated himself and wrote out the order for Austin to release the men to Captain Williams. They were to be under Lieutenant Hardy’s supervision and authority until returned to the Cumberland Camp.

  For good measure, Hardy made a duplicate of the order. At the appropriate time he would hand it over to Williams. This act seemed to ease Sergeant Austin’s concerns. He handed the order over to Austin and said, “Sergeant Coffin and two others were wounded and are now recuperating in Saint Marys. When they are well enough to travel they are to return here. Make what use you may of them.”

  “Aye, sir, I will see to them,” Austin answered and asked, “Is there a possibility we will be attacked?”

  Hardy considered the question and answered, “The Dons still have claim to the land yonder, the British want it to be a thorn in our side, some living there have declared the land for their own country and there are those that wish to unite with our country. So, my best answer is to be prepared, double your sentries and keep your arms near. Be wary of anyone not in marine uniform.”

  “Aye, sir,” Austin said.

  With the sound of waves crashing on the beach and the squawk of gulls, Hardy led his party of five men down to the boat. Austin had sent along two men to bring the boat back once Hardy and the others were delivered to the dock.

  Hardy found Brooks and Coffin sitting at a table outside the inn. Vargas, Horne and Hardgraves sat on a log underneath a large live oak tree with their muskets across their laps.

  “Lieutenant Brooks, all in order?” Hardy asked.

  “Aye, sir, all is as you ordered,” Brooks answered.

  “Then we shall we away,” Hardy said and turned his attention to Coffin.

  “Sergeant I have informed Sergeant Austin of your injury and of the conditions of Danner and Ellis. He will inquiry as to your needs and when you are able you are to return with him to the camp.”

  Coffin smiled and replied, “Aye, I’ll return when I’ve regained my wind. But, Lieutenant, that may be some time as I fear a boat ride might be the death of me.”

  “I’ll be the death of you if you are not back on that island by nightfall tomorrow. Now what of the woman Jewel?”

  “She is staying in back of the inn with the others. They have the wagon and made it into kind of a tent. She says that they are going to stay here until that Ramsey woman comes back or her husband comes into town.”

  “So, she will continue to care for you and the others?”

  “Aye, sir, she said you done paid her and paid her well. She is beholding to you for your kindness."

  “And I to her,” Hardy answered.

  “Mister Brooks, let us be away,” Hardy ordered.

  “Aye, sir,” Brooks answered and called, “You men fall into line, single file!”

  Hardy set the pace; it was a quick pace. The new men would no doubt complain but Horne would set them to rights. In Hardy’s mind, reaching Williams and reporting the skirmishes with mixed groups of men was important. Also, Williams needed to know that men like Ramsey had taken up arms and armed their slaves. The possibility of encountering armed groups of men could be disastrous to Williams’ efforts to maintain peace until an annexation was possible.

  They smelled the stench of rotting flesh before they reached the stream.

  “What is that awful smell?” Hardy heard Murphy ask Horne.

  “Dead men, we killed em,” Horn
e answered.

  The buzzards were feasting on the bodies and did not take flight until the men drew near.

  Hardy had seen such sights before; he was not disturbed by it or by the smell. He began issuing orders, “Vargas get the shovels from the ass!”

  He turned to Horne, “You and Murphy collect the weapons and bury them over by the stream.”

  “You, Creech isn’t it? You and Rhodes start digging holes in that clearing there,” Hardy ordered and pointed. “Be quick about it! We’ve got more dead to bury once we’ve done with these!”

  He pulled a bandanna from his pocket and tied it over his mouth and nose. Searching the dead had to be done and he did not relish the task.

  He found papers in one man’s pockets, the man he had thought to be Jackson. The papers confirmed his suspicion; the papers named Jackson as a captain in the East Florida militia.

  They reached the Ramsey home and Hardy was pleased to see it had not been burned. He went up the front steps and opened the front door. He checked all the downstairs rooms. The house had not been looted. It was as he suspected those who had given chase had been too keen to keep their quarry in sight to bother with the house. Misses’ Ramsey would be pleased. He was pleased, for the untouched house meant that those who had attacked had been the only renegades in the area. There should be little danger for the remainder of the trek to Amelia Island.

  Hardy was wary as they neared the site of the previous day’s fight. He halted the men and ordered them to load their muskets. He sent Horne ahead while the weapons were loaded. Hardy was relieved to see that the five new men showed no fear and expressed no concern. He was pleased his judgement of them had been correct. These men would fight.

  Horne returned, “Bodies still there, buzzards as thick as flies.”

  Hardy asked, “Did you see tracks?”

  “None fresh,” Horne answered.

  “Then we shall proceed,” Hardy said.

  The buzzards continued to feast even as Hardy approached. They took flight as the men approached and began to shoo them away. And even then, they perched in nearby trees. The sound of puking caused Hardy to turn; it was Rhodes.

  “Horne, Murphy and Smith, gather up the muskets and pistols and pile them in the road! Rhodes gather some firewood, we’ll burn the weapons.”

  “Aye, sir,” Horne answered.

  Hardy turned to Brooks, “I’m going to search these men, take Hardgraves and two others down the road to that dead tree yonder and keep watch.”

  “Aye, sir,” Brooks answered and called to Hardgraves.

  “Vargas, get the shovels off the ass and you and Hargett drag these bodies to the side of the road and dig some holes, the sand should be easy to dig. Make the holes about two feet deep and wide enough to put about four of these in. That should keep the buzzards off them.”

  “Aye, sir!” Vargas answered.

  The weapons were soon collected and Hardy started the fire. He couldn’t completely destroy them but they would be rendered useless. It was all he could do. The same was true of burying the men, shallow graves and no markers.

  The search of the bodies provided no information. Hardy wanted a bath.

  “Form up and we will be away,” Hardy ordered when the last shovel of sand was thrown on the graves.

  Brooks tried to walk as far from Hardy as possible.

  When they reached the ferry, Hardy saw that the barge was still tied to the bank. He well remembered the ferryman and his sons. Their house was like a small fortress. He sent Horne and Hardgraves, “Keep well hidden and report back to me as soon as you determine if there is anyone in the house.”

  From where he waited for Horne’s report, he could see that the barge was intact and the poles lay on the bank. It was clear that no one had come across during the day or during the night. He hoped the remainder of the march would be without incident. He cared not for more fighting and death. But, he knew that there would be more either this day or the next.

  Horne did not return the way he had gone; rather he came straight across the large sandy clearing at a jog. “House is empty sir, the door to the back of the house was broken down,” Horne reported.

  Hardy considered for a moment and decided, “Mister Brooks we will proceed to the barge and take up positions to cover the far bank.”

  “Aye, sir,” Brooks acknowledged.

  “Form line here!” Brooks ordered once they reached the riverbank. Every man studied the far bank for any signs of life or movement. There was none.

  Satisfied, Hardy ordered. “Hargett you and Rhodes take up the poles, Horne, Hardgraves and Murphy help Vargas get the ass on the barge!”

  It took several minutes for all to board and to load the ass. “Start us off Horne!” Hardy ordered.

  He then checked his watch; it was just after three. He estimated the time to reach Amelia Island, would be near sunset.

  Brooks asked, “What of the ferryman?”

  “Horne reported the door was broken down and Hargett said it looked as if there had been a fight. We can assume the worst and hope for the best. In either case, we shall continue to be on our guard.”

  “Aye,” Brooks replied.

  The barge rammed into the bank. Knocking two men off their feet.

  “Murphy tie us off!” Hardy ordered.

  He then ordered, “Mister Brooks form a line while we get the ass off and the barge secured. I will bathe and while I do so have the men take turns eating. We’ll not stop again until dark.”

  Hardy stayed on the barge and began to strip off. The stench of searching the dead was still on him. Once into the water, he rubbed himself all over using wet sand. It was rough on the skin but better than the stink. He reached up to the barge and collected his trousers and washed them. His tunic and shirt likewise received a good scrubbing. He put the wet clothes on knowing that in the heat they would dry within the hour.

  “Single file Mister Brooks,” Hardy ordered when he rejoined the men.

  The last mile of the journey was in darkness. The men were quiet as they sat on the barge carrying them across to Amelia Island. It was evident to Hardy that they were glad to rest and looked forward to a night of peaceful sleep.

  “Mister Brooks I will attend Captain Williams. Find a suitable place and make camp for the night,” Hardy said as he headed for the inn.

  The inn was filled with men wearing various uniforms. Sitting at one table was a marine first lieutenant and a sergeant. Hardy went straight to the officer. “Lieutenant Hardy,” he announced. “I’m to report to Captain Williams.”

  The young officer stood, he was fair-haired, thin and as tall as Hardy. “I’m Lieutenant Alexander Sevier, I’ve not had the pleasure of your acquaintance but I’ve heard of your exploits. Captain Williams is escorting a shipment and will not return for at least another day. He has set me in command.”

  Hardy extended his hand, “Lieutenant Sevier it is my pleasure.”

  “Sit and have a glass,” Sevier said after the handshake.

  “Aye, I could do with a glass,” Hardy answered as he sat.

  Sevier poured wine into a glass that had been left by a previous visitor. “You’ve found the wagon of arms?” he asked.

  “Aye, and I destroyed it and those with were dispatched. I lost two men and several others wounded. Another group forced my hand, I suppose they were those who were to receive the arms, and I found myself in another skirmish. The place of the attack was nearer to Saint Marys and I chose to return there that my wounded could receive aid.”

  “How many were killed in the engagement?” Sevier asked.

  Hardy reached and took the glass; he drank it down. “All tolled I estimate thirty, the ones with the wagon, the ones that attacked us afterwards and then those who were to meet the wagon.”

  Sevier nodded then asked, “How many men have you.

  “Nine men and Second-Lieutenant Brooks, five of the men are from the Cumberland Island Camp.”

  Sevier smiled and said, “Sergeant Au
stin would not have released them without complaint.”

  “Aye,” Hardy agreed. “He was reluctant and I wrote an order to the effect that I had Captain Williams permission.”

  “That was assumed permission,” Sevier said.

  “Aye,” Hardy said with a nod.

  Sevier refilled Hardy’s glass. “Captain Williams had expected your arrival yesterday. It was his intention that you escort the wagons that he is escorting. He instructed me to sent you after him should you arrive after he had departed. Now being a day later, I’m not sure what to do with you.”

  Hardy took the glass and sipped. He considered Sevier’s decision. He asked, “What of the obstacles Captain Williams must deal with?”

  Sevier answered, “The wagons are pulled by oxen and will be slow. He chose oxen because much of the route is through swampy terrain. The oxen, he reasoned, would be less likely to bog down. Other than that, he should have no problems, he has twenty men with him.”

  “Who are these supplies for?” Hardy asked.

  “Loyalists camped on the Saint Johns River, they are cut off from regular supplies and the Seminoles have been enlisted to drive us and those seeking to join the United States out of the territory. They are led by a man named Biassou.”

  “Twenty men may not be enough,” Hardy said.

  “Aye, I agree,” Sevier answered and was thoughtful for a long moment. He studied Hardy and said, “Perhaps it is expedient that you and your men set out for the camp at first light.”

  “Do you have a map of the route?” Hardy asked

  Sevier answered, “No but I will send a man with you who is familiar with the route. It’s a three day journey of about sixty miles through rough terrain and you will likely encounter Biassou’s forces.”

  “The man you are sending, is he a marine?”

  “Yes, a corporal named Spencer. He has made the journey twice so I would think he will be very useful.”

  Seiver turned to the sergeant sitting next to him, “Sergeant Ross, fetch Corporal Spencer and have him report to Lieutenant Hardy.”

 

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