Origins

by J. F. Holmes

  After a moment I stood and replaced my hat, and spoke somberly, “And now the Mighty Fourth are but three.” Turning to Turley, I spoke, “Your men? I saw one fall.”

  The young officer pulled his eyes from the body on the ground and replied, “No injuries, sir.”

  Puzzled, I looked around at the Marines. One of them shrugged and held up a stiff leather ring, which appeared worn and tattered. I peered at it, and then realized that the collar the Marines habitually wore had absorbed the teeth of the creature, saving him from the fate poor Lewis had suffered.

  Turley spoke, breaking the stunned silence, “Marines, reload and prepare to move. Riflemen, to the flanks.” His voice was clear and confident. He turned to me and spoke in a low voice, “Sir, we must report to General Washington. I know not what we have found, but he needs to know.”

  Nodding my head, I replied, “I agree.” Looking into the whirling snow again, I strained my eyes for the mysterious man.

  Seeing where I was looking, Turley asked, “Sir, was that the devil?”

  I shook my head firmly, “No. I hit him, and if we can hit him, we can kill him.”

  Turley seemed to consider this for a moment, then replied in a practical tone, “Well, we’d best get started then, sir.”

  With a last hard look into the snowstorm, I replied, “I couldn’t agree more, Lieutenant. Let’s go.” We turned and began the slow, cold walk back to our mounts.

  Chapter Three

  “A Plea for Assistance”

  November 22, 1777

  My Dearest Abigail,

  I write this letter in haste, as Gen. Washington has dispatched myself and several men to Philadelphia. While it is most unusual for men under arms to travel toward enemy territories, we travel under a flag of truce and carry a letter to the British commander, General Howe. After the events in the woods of several days previous, the details with which I will not trouble you, I am relieved to be moving out of the camp and into the city for some time. While I have not been to the great city of Philadelphia for some years, I do look forward to it, and seeing how that great city is withstanding the loathsome presence of the British and her soldiery. I shall make every effort to obtain some lace and other sundries, as I know it has been scarce back home, and shall send as much as I may reasonably obtain.

  Alas, I must bid adieu, as I hear my lieutenants approaching. My deepest affections to the boys, and my eternal love to you.

  Your loving Husband, Sean.

  The early morning sun shone bright and cold, as I stepped out of the stone building that served as the Army headquarters. The wind was whipping, and all around the encampment, soldiers and followers scurried to keep out of the bitter bite of the wind. I made my way through the mud and snow to the stables, from whence we were to set off. Making my way inside, the warm, horse-scented darkness of the stable was a relief after the brilliant cold of the day outside. Seeing a lamp on a barrel nearby lighting a group of men, I made my way over and nodded.

  One of the Marines, the burly sergeant by the name of Nelson, nodded amiably. “Sir. What says the general, then?” I recognized him as the man who had saved me from the creature the day before.

  Removing my hat and loosening my scarf, I replied, “We ride today.”

  One of the other Marines nodded, as he’d expected this, and replied, “Figures, then. Heard from me mates that there’s another set ‘o sentries gone missin’. We going huntin’ again, then?”

  Lieutenant Turley’s voice cut through the gloom, “As you were, Marines. Get the captain a cup.”

  A shape stepped out of the darkness and handed me a tin cup. “Here, sir. To warm yer belly.” I gratefully took a sip, expecting coffee, and was startled to find it full of rum. After a surprised cough, I managed to down the rest of it in several bold swallows. There were several chuckles from the darkness as I did so.

  I wiped my mouth, looked around the dim area at the faint faces, and spoke, “Here’s the meat of it, lads. The general’s sending us to Philadelphia.”

  There was a beat of silence, then a low voice growled from the darkness, “Th’ city’s crawlin’ with bloody redcoats, and he’s sending us into it?”

  I held up a hand and replied calmly, “Let me finish. We’re going in under a flag of truce to take a message to General Howe. What we saw threatens all decent men, and despite our differences with the English, we share common bonds and a common fate.”

  The burly sergeant looked at the Marines on either side of him before responding, “Sir…me and the lads. I don’t know if ye wanta be taking us with ye.” He gestured at a nearby man with a terribly scarred face. “Jenkins there was an East India Guard and left in ill repute.” He pointed at two moustached men sitting nearby, cleaning their muskets quietly. “Johannes and Heinrich there were previously involuntary soldiers for England, and didn’t leave the proper way, if you get my meaning.” He pointed at another man. “Svenson there got his farm burned for giving water to a Patriot.” His finger swept to another. “They think Linden there is a bloody pirate, and I’m wanted fer knocking a young English officer’s head against a rail a few years back in a misunderstandin’.”

  He jerked his thumb at three other Marines in the darkness tending to the horses. “Those three were bailed outta’ th’ Walnut Street Jail fer drunkenness and aggressions against nature.”

  My curiosity piqued, I could not help but ask, “What sort of crimes against nature?”

  The young man shyly replied, “I partook heavily of strong drink and struck an Englishman’s horse with a fist in anger.”

  Suppressing a smile, I replied, “I see.” Looking around for a moment, I stated in a clear voice, “Whatever your crimes against the Crown, they are not my concern. I concern myself with loyalty to these United Colonies, and to each other. We travel under a letter of protection from General Washington and will not be molested by the British.”

  There was another moment of silence as the men considered this, then the big sergeant spoke, “All right then. If we got your word, sir. What after we visit his lordship?”

  With a smile, I replied, “Officially, all we are to do is to enter the city, speak with Lord Howe, and deliver General Washington’s message.”

  With a crooked smile, Sergeant Nelson replied, “And unofficially?”

  “Unofficially, our cause still has friends in the city. They may have information for us. We’re to make contact and find out what we can.” With a glance at Lieutenant Turley, I added, “With the exception of your officer, I believe you men all have practice evading British agents. That skill may come in handy quite soon.”

  The men nodded as they considered this, then a voice from the darkness asked, “Sir, what were those things?”

  Handing the cup back to the Marine nearest me, I shook my head. “I do not know. Not for certain.” I hesitated, considering what to tell them, then made a decision. “Lads, I’ll not keep secrets from you. These things…I’ve encountered them before. Sit down.” The men knelt or sat around me. I sat on a nearby barrel, undid my top coat button, and began to tell the tale. “Some twenty years ago, during the war with France and her Native allies, I was serving as a young militia officer. It was toward the end of the war, and we’d been tasked to relieve a detachment of beleaguered regulars up in New York, at Fort William Henry.” I looked down at the ground, reliving the terrible memories of those days. After a moment, I started speaking again, “We’d been on the trail some three weeks, and were about a day’s march from the fort when we found them.”

  In the dark someone stated in an accented voice, “The massacre.”

  With a nod, I agree wearily, “Aye. The massacre. We found the garrison where they’d fallen. The regulars tried to fight, to defend the families, but…they’d been slaughtered to the last man, woman, and child. We told people it was Indians, but…” I hesitated, then sighed and continued, “It wasn’t. They hadn’t been scalped, nor did their bodies bear wounds of weapons.” I looked at the men, their eyes g
linting in the dim lantern light. “They’d been torn apart with teeth and claws.” Feeling my fury and horror from the sights long in my past, I continued, my voice firm, “We tracked them. After all, we were scouts and trackers—the best in the colonies. We were the famous Pennsylvania Riflemen! Two days later, we caught up to them.”

  The barn was silent, save the dim noises coming in from outside and the occasional breathy exhalation of the horses. After a moment, a voice asked, “What happened then, sir?”

  “What happened then was that we found out that not everything in this world is explained by Man or God’s laws. The creatures that had torn the garrison apart were no longer human, although they looked it. They had pale skin and black eyes, and shrieked as they came at us.” I looked down again, then said, “In our fury, we fell upon them with sword and tomahawk. Not a one was left intact, and we left their corpses in the forest as a warning.” Now looking around the dim barn, I made eye contact with the hard-faced men around me, and said, “If this is what I think it is, we have bigger problems than the English, gentlemen.”

  ****

  Several hours later we rode in silence down the pike toward the city. The snow-covered countryside was deserted, with few people in sight. Occasional farmhouses dotted the gentle rolling hills, with the smoke from their chimneys noticeable in our nostrils. Ahead of us hung the haze of the city of Philadelphia, the smoke from the hundreds of stoves and furnaces making a column into the sky marking the great city’s place in the world. The wind whipped, snapping our cloaks and cutting through our thin clothes. I pulled my overcoat tighter, grateful for the leather and wool lining Abigail had sewn into it back in the summer, when I was last home. It had seemed overmuch at the time, but the winter had been colder and wetter than expected, and the coat had served me well.

  “Captain,” Lieutenant Turley’s voice cut into my musings and I looked up. The young man moved his horse up next to me and nodded in the distance. The burly sergeant rode next to him. Sweeping my eyes up, I could see a rough wooden palisade, with the distinctive dark red coats of the British regulars atop it. A short way past the barricade stood a small cottage. A curl of smoke rose from the chimney.

  I looked at Turley and nodded. “Time, Lieutenant.”

  The young man nodded briskly and spoke to the Marine sergeant, “Parley flag, Sergeant Armistead.” The burly man reached behind him and produced a square of white linen. After a moment of work, he’d attached it to the barrel of his musket, then resting the butt of the weapon on his knee, nodded at Lieutenant Turley.

  Turley turned back to me and said simply, “Ready, sir.” I nudged my horse forward and advanced slowly toward the fortification.

  As we moved toward the palisade, the soldier on the platform lowered his musket at us and called out clearly, “Halt! Identify yourselves!”

  With a glance at the Marine lieutenant at my side, I commented jovially, “Well. Now we see if the arrangements came through!” I raised my voice and called out, “Captain Tillerson, Fourth Pennsylvania Rifles. We come as a special envoy of General Washington!”

  The young soldier regarded us for a moment, then turned and said something to someone out of sight. He then turned back to face us, raised the musket so the barrel was aimed at the sky, and called again, “If you’ll hold fast for a moment, sir.”

  I raised a hand to acknowledge the soldier and spoke aside to Lieutenant Turley, “Until we speak to General Howe, I’d like to keep the men with us. The less time the British get to speak to them, the better, for several reasons.”

  Turley nodded thoughtfully, and replied, “I tend to agree, sir. That said, most of the men were mustered into the Marines here. They have contacts throughout the city. If the British grant us free run of the city, we can get a lot of information quickly.”

  I considered this, then replied, “Perhaps. Until we get a feel for what the nature of this task is, I’d prefer to keep the men close. For their protection, seeing as they’re wanted by the Crown.” I glanced at the young man again and asked, “May I ask how you came about such a crew of unsavory characters?”

  With a shrug, the young man replied, “After we were authorized to begin recruiting by the War and Ordnance Board, Major Nicholas went looking for men who could fight and shoot.” He grinned sheepishly. “He wasn’t so particular about the other aspects of the men’s lives. He said that if they ‘stayed true to the colonies and maintained discipline while in ranks’, they’d be treated as free men.” Turning in his saddle to check on the ranks of mounted men a dozen paces behind us, he continued, “What he got were these men. Tough, disciplined, and ferocious, but most with a checkered past. All excellent marksmen, and experienced soldiers and sailors.” He turned back forward and smiled faintly. “After the raid on Nassau, they were tested severely by British fire.” He fell silent, then continued, “Now, after that little skirmish in the woods against…whatever those things were, I have no doubt of their skill or steadfastness in battle.” With a serious look at me, he added, “There’s few enough men in this world that would have kept their nerve, let alone engaged those unholy beasts at close quarters.”

  I nodded thoughtfully, watching two soldiers exit the cottage ahead of us. One came sprinting toward the palisade. The other mounted a horse and kicked his heels, taking the horse to a gallop, headed south toward the city. The young runner disappeared behind the palisade.

  There was a moment of silence, then the man on the rampart called, “Captain Tillerson. You may advance, sir. The captain would like a word. You men may move to the cottage.”

  I raised my hand in acknowledgement and, clucking at my horse, moved forward, followed by Lieutenant Turley. Sergeant Nelson wheeled his horse around and could be heard giving orders to the men.

  Passing the wooden palisade under the watchful eyes of the youthful soldiers, we saw waiting for us a young man in the brilliant red coat of an officer. Dismounting, I made my way over to the man. He was slender, fine of feature, and serious of expression, with his uniform immaculate and well-tailored; clearly a gentleman.

  Stopping in front of the man, I removed my riding glove and saluted. “Sir. Captain Sean Tillerson, Fourth Pennsylvania Rifles, on special assignment from the Continental Army.”

  The young man gravely saluted in return and replied in a polite tone, “Sir. Captain John André of the 26th Foot. I’m General Howe’s aide de camp. We’ve been expecting you, sir.” He gestured toward the road. “I’d offer you tea, but we have orders from General Howe to proceed with utmost speed to Philadelphia. Events are occurring that we need to bring you up to date on.”

  I nodded and replaced my glove. “Very well, sir. Let us make haste.”

  The young man nodded and, turning to the horse that a soldier had brought up while we spoke, swung deftly up onto it. He motioned courteously to me, and tapping my horse forward, we started at a fast walk through the fields and woods ahead. Two British soldiers rode ahead of our little band, and another two behind.

  Captain André gestured at the men apologetically. “I apologize for the lack of respect, sir. We have caught many men attempting to sneak into the city during our time here. Some of them rebels, some of them spies, some of them merely common criminals; all to a man bent on mischief. The general thought it best we escort you in so as to expedite your progress.”

  I nodded and responded, “A prudent precaution, Captain. No offense is taken.” After a few moments of riding in silence, I queried, “May I ask if you are aware of the nature of our parley?”

  The young man shook his head grimly. “I do not know the exact nature, as General Howe did not see fit to share his correspondence with me. I only know your specific task, after which you will meet with the general.” He fell silent for a moment, then added, “It is my belief that the man in black and the…creatures…you encountered in the forest are the reason.” I raised an eyebrow and regarded the young officer. He gave a sly look, then said with a smile, “We are neither blind nor stupid, despite the act
ions of some of the officers in this Army.”

  With a chuckle, I responded, “Oh, I’m aware, as is General Washington. That said, given the nature of how secret this was inside our own Army, I fear that we shall have to do some investigating upon our return.”

  Captain André replied, “Oh, there’s no need. There’s no secret source. General Washington and General Howe have been corresponding on the matter for some weeks. Your little encounter in the woods proved that these…’attacks’…are more than random. The man you saw has also been seen here in the city.”

  Astonished, I looked at the man, then asked, “Inside the city? But how did he cross the lines?”

  With a tilt of his head André responded, “One question of many.” He hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Tell me, sir. How are your men for arms?”

  Still astonished at the knowledge that the man in the woods was known to both sides, I replied, “Enough. We have a three-day supply with ample shot and powder. Rifles for my men, muskets for the Marines, and blades and pistols aplenty.”

  “And your men? Battle tested?” He turned in his saddle to regard the Marines and the two remaining riflemen riding some twenty feet behind us.

  “Aye. My Pennsylvania men have been on campaign since the beginning, and the Marines were at Nassau and Princeton.” I added after a moment, “And that encounter in the woods.” Ahead of us I could see the large column of smoke from the hundreds of fires in Philadelphia reaching into the crystal blue winter sky.