Little Hornet: Boy Patriot of North Carolina (Kid Patriots of the American Revolution Book 1)

by Geoff Baggett

  Folks continued to drop by for several days. The boys shared about the political situation down south, the movements of the British, and the massacre in the Waxhaws. Somehow word got out about their battle at the McClelland cabin. There was much talk about it in the community, but no one dared approach the Hamilton boys regarding their experience.

  Thankfully, by week’s end, life had settled back into its familiar routine of chores, farming, livestock care, and hunting.

  On Friday evening after supper the boys built a small campfire on the ground near the cabin and sat down to watch the sunset. James and John puffed on their clay pipes while William played with his marbles in the smooth dirt. John soon joined in a friendly game with his little brother. It was a pleasant, peaceful, restful evening.

  James broke the serenity of the moment by speaking, “Boys, I need to run up to the village of Salisbury tomorrow to do some business. I need to sell a couple of horses and a few other things so we can make a payment on our farm.”

  “Can I go to Salisbury with you tomorrow, James?” begged William.

  “No, little brother, I’m going to go alone. It’s purely a business trip. Don’t worry, though. I’ll be home by dark. You won’t even miss me. Besides, I need you two to chop out that south cornfield tomorrow. It’s getting to where I can hardly tell the weeds from the corn after all this rain we had last week.”

  “Oh, boy! Exciting stuff!” mocked William, rolling his eyes.

  “I know doesn’t measure up to the excitement you’ve become accustomed to lately, but it’s important. Especially if you plan on eating this winter,” corrected James.

  “All right, all right. Chopping corn tomorrow. Got it. Can’t wait,” William grunted.

  “Let’s go ahead and call it a night, brothers. We all have a long day ahead of us tomorrow,” suggested James.

  John and James tapped the smoldering remnants of Virginia tobacco out of their pipes. William tossed his marbles into his doeskin bag and ran for the cabin door while the older brothers kicked dirt into the coals of the fire. They followed William inside where they all stripped down to their shirts and settled into the comfort of their corn shuck beds.

  The boys slept soundly. Early the next morning James left in the pre-dawn darkness. John and William arose about an hour later. After milking and feeding the cows, feeding the chickens and collecting eggs, and checking the goats’ water and feed, John fixed them a hot breakfast. He scrambled six of the morning’s fresh eggs and toasted some bread in the stone fireplace oven. William was quite subdued and not his usual chatty self, obviously dreading a hot day of work in the field.

  They downed their breakfast, grabbed their water jugs and tools, and headed off to the field. They chopped corn all morning, finally stopping around noon to take a little nap in the shade.

  William had just dozed off when he heard a voice in the distance.

  “Halloooo! Is anyone home?”

  “Johnny, someone’s here!” hissed William, kicking his brother in the leg.

  Both of them jumped up and ran toward the house.

  The voice called out again, “Private James Hamilton!”

  John and William rounded the corner of the cabin. John yelled, “James isn’t here, mister. What can I do for you?”

  The man spun around in his saddle, startled by the unexpected voice to his rear.

  “Where is he, boy?” the man inquired.

  “Gone to Salisbury on business before daybreak this morning. I expect him back by nightfall.”

  “I see. Are you his kin?”

  “Yes, sir. I’m his brother, John. This is our other brother, William.”

  William tipped his hat to the man.

  “Well, since ole Jamie isn’t here, can I trust you to give him a message for me, son?”

  “Yes, sir. Of course. What’s it about?” inquired John, nosily.

  “It’s official business pertaining to the Regiment of the Mecklenburg County Militia, to which your brother, James, has sworn his service,” the man stated. “I am Lieutenant Thomas Givins of the company commanded by my brother, Captain Samuel Givins. I bring a message regarding the call-up of the regiment.”

  “Oh, I see,” stated John.

  William frowned.

  Mr. Hamilton, I would be most appreciative if you could deliver this very important message to your brother. Do you need to write it down?”

  “No, sir. I’m not so good at writing, but I’ll be faithful to deliver your message just like you give it to me,” John promised.

  “Very well, then. Please inform Private Hamilton that the Regiment is now officially on alert. Command has caught wind of a Tory uprising in the neighborhood of Lincolnton. If, indeed, the regiment is called up, riders will be dispatched with a report date. Our headquarters will be Phifer’s Mill. Can you handle that message?”

  “Yes, sir! The regiment is on alert, Tories are in Lincolnton, riders will instruct, muster at Phifer’s Mill. Got it.”

  “Excellent! I bid you good day, then, John Hamilton. Perhaps I will see you at a muster one of these days soon?”

  “Could be,” John responded, head drooping. “But for now James says I have to stay home and take care of the farm.”

  “Well, I’m sure that your brother knows best. Take care, Mr. Hamilton. It was a pleasure speaking with you.”

  “You, too, sir.”

  The lieutenant clucked at his horse, spun her around, and trotted back down the road toward Charlotte.

  John looked at William. Neither of them were happy.

  “Does that mean James is leaving us?” William asked.

  “I reckon so.”

  James arrived back home shortly before dark. His brothers peppered him with questions about his experience and the financial deals he had made. John informed James about the visit from Lieutenant Givins and the impending call-up of the regiment. James was not surprised. He knew that it was only a matter of time before he would have to go off to the war.

  A few days later the boys went into town to buy some supplies at the general store and catch up on the news.

  They were clamoring into the wagon when a voice called out from across the dusty street, “James Hamilton! Hold on there, son!”

  A distinguished-looking gentleman approached from the direction of the tavern. He was dressed in a fine blue wool weskit and wore an exquisite black cocked hat.

  “It’s a little early in the morning for rum, isn’t it, Captain?” joked James.

  “I’ll be the judge of that, Private. Though I haven’t had a single drop today, thank you very much. I merely stopped by the tavern to spread the word regarding the regiment. I’m pleased I ran into you today. Saves me a trip out to your place. And who might these two young men be?” the gentleman inquired.

  “Captain Givins, these are my brothers John and William. Boys, this is the captain of my company, Mr. Samuel Givins.”

  “Please to make your acquaintance, gentlemen. Your reputations precede you. I’ve heard all about your escapades in the Waxhaws. I salute your bravery and your patriotism.” The captain bowed and tipped his hat to the boys.

  “What news of the regiment, sir?” asked John curiously. “Your brother came by our place a few days ago and left me a message for James.”

  “Indeed,” the captain replied. Turning to James he said, “Well, the time for action is upon us, I’m afraid. We will muster at Colonel Phifer’s place on Friday and prepare to march. We are being assigned to a Continental command, I think. You have four days to get your affairs in order and provide for these brothers of yours.”

  “Yes, sir. What’s the enlistment time?”

  “Three months,” the captain responded.

  “All right. Well, I reckon we had better get on our way then, since we only have four days to prepare,” James responded.

  The captain extended his hand. “Excellent. I will see you bright and early on Friday then. Turn out with enough personal supplies for at least five days in the field, w
ith all of the food that you can carry. The Continentals may provide lead and powder at some point, but there’s no guarantee. Boys …” Again, the captain tipped his hat to John and William, then turned and walked toward another building down the street.

  “Well, brothers, you heard him,” James stated flatly. “We’ve got four days to get you boys set up on the farm. At least I’ll be back around harvest time in September.”

  chapter six

  Friday approached quickly. Throughout the week they took time after their regular chores and farm labor to plan out the next three months. James compiled a thorough list of tasks that John and William needed to perform during that time period. Though the boys knew all too well what was expected of them, it gave James some peace of mind to write everything down.

  The boys also helped James prepare for his three months of duty. James organized his own clothing, electing to wear his prized pair of lace-up black leather half-boots with buckskin breeches and leggings. He planned to wear his favorite green, checkered homespun shirt, covered by his heavy off-white linen hunting frock and a thick three-inch-wide leather belt.

  The brothers packed both of James’ shooting bags with as much lead as they would hold. They filled his personal haversack with bundles of dried beef strips, dried beans, and dried fruit. William spent the entire day on Thursday baking sheets of hardtack. Once the rock-hard crackers cooled he carefully broke them and filled a second haversack for James. They packed a snapsack full with extra socks, a thick wool blanket, and two extra shirts. Two full horns of powder finished out his load of supplies.

  All of the work and preparation helped keep their minds off of the fact that James was leaving for a long time. The brothers had been basically on their own and inseparable for almost seven years. Though James was excited about going off and doing his duty, he still felt a pang of guilt for his brothers. And they dreaded his going.

  None of them slept very well on Thursday night. James was too excited. John and William were too sad about James leaving. They dozed fitfully during the wee hours of the morning, and then finally gave up about an hour before dawn. John cooked a hot breakfast while James gathered his things. William hovered close to James, doting over his every action.

  After breakfast and a trip to the outhouse, James began to strap on his supplies. John volunteered to saddle his horse.

  “Saddle yours, too, little brother,” James instructed. “I’ll need you to go along with me. I can’t take my horse on the march, so I’ll need you to bring her back home from Phifer’s Mill.”

  It didn’t take John long to saddle the horses. He brought them from the barn just as James was emerging from beneath the stoop of the cabin. He had his rifle in hand and was tucking his tomahawk into his leather belt. He turned to face William.

  “I know you’re almost a grown man, little brother. But you need to know that John is in charge while I’m gone. I want you two to work together and take care of our home.”

  “I know what’s expected of me, James. Don’t you worry about Johnny and me. We’ll be just fine. And Mama’s just across the ridge. You just worry about staying alive, and getting back home in September.”

  James wrapped both arms around his little brother and smothered him with a huge hug. He turned and laboriously mounted his horse. William actually had to give him a little push in the rump to help him lift all of the extra weight of his food and gear. John climbed up on his horse as well. They turned and headed west in the direction of the muster ground.

  John called over his shoulder, “I’ll be back before dinner, William!”

  William waved to them both. Once they disappeared around the bend William sighed and walked back into the empty cabin.

  * * *

  Life on the Hamilton farm settled back into a steady routine. James had been gone for almost a month. Managing the crops was difficult with James away, but John and William were holding their own. The oppressive heat of July had blanketed the countryside, but so far there had been abundant rains.

  The corn crop was well watered, high, and healthy, as was their vegetable garden. Their hoeing days were well behind them. The shadows of the thick corn stalks now kept the weeds at bay. The boys had plenty to eat and plenty of tasks around the farm to keep them occupied.

  There had been no word from James since his quick departure for Lincolnton. John learned through the rumor mill that the Mecklenburg boys had arrived too late for the battle, but it had been a great victory for the Patriot forces. There had been little news after that. Until today …

  William had taken to the woods in search of a turkey for supper. John was picking tomatoes in the garden in the early afternoon when a wagon pulled up in front of the cabin. It was Angus McHenry, an older gentleman who lived about a half-mile down the road toward Charlotte. The Scotsman’s oldest son, Colin, served in the same regiment as James.

  “Hallo, Johnny!” he called out in his jolly, thick Scottish tongue. “I was a hopin’ that I would catch ye here at the hoose whilst I was on me way home.”

  “Howdy, Mr. McHenry. I haven’t seen you in a while. Is everything all right?”

  “Aye, aye. All is grand, laddie! I’m just on me way home from Salisbury. I went up yesterday in search of me boy, Colin. I had no trouble a findin’ him. None a’tall.”

  “So the regiment is encamped there now?”

  “Aye, Johnny. They’ve been sleepin’ in that field ever since their first march up to Lincolnton. As soon as that battle was over the army marched ‘em to Salisbury and put them into that camp. They’ve been a practicin’ their soldierin’ ever since. All manner of marchin’ and drillin’ and shootin’ and such.”

  “So they’re all well, then. Everyone is all right?”

  “How I wish they were, laddie! There’s horrible want up there. Terrible sickness and hunger! The boys have almost nothin’ to eat. No provision a’tall from the Congress and, apparently, the state has nay funds, either. Our boys are scavengin’ what they can from the woods and countryside, but it’s a poor, pitiful sight.”

  John was disheartened but not surprised. Stories abounded about the lack of supplies available for the Patriot militias and the Continentals.

  “What should we do?” inquired John.

  “Well, son, we can do our part to help ‘em all we can. I took some food to me boy yesterday and stayed the night with him in the camp. Now that I’m back home I’m a doin’ all I can to spread the word regardin’ their want and need. So consider yourself informed, Johnny. I know that Jamie would be most grateful for some supplies and provisions. And a visit from his brothers would be most welcome, I have nay doubt.”

  “Thank you, Mr. McHenry. I’ll think on it and see what we can do.”

  “You are most welcome, Johnny. Farewell, then.”

  The enthusiastic Scotsman clucked at his mules and headed off in the direction of his home.

  William returned from his hunting a couple of hours later with two fine turkeys tied together at the feet and hanging over his left shoulder. John greeted him near the barn.

  “We had a visit earlier.”

  “Who was it?”

  “Mr. McHenry. He just got back from Salisbury. The regiment is camped there. He says they’re mighty bad off. No supplies and very little food. The army isn’t providing them with anything, so they pretty much have to fend for themselves. He’s spreading the word so that folks might try to help.”

  “That sounds like a good idea. What are we going to do?”

  “I say let’s load the wagon full of supplies tonight and take them to Salisbury tomorrow.”

  “What do you plan to take?”

  “Well, we need to take as much food as we can. We have four or five hundred pounds of corn meal in the shed that’s still good. We can haul almost all of that. We’ll be harvesting corn soon enough, anyhow. James can share it with the other boys. Plus there’s plenty of dried beef and venison.

  “We can take a couple of bushels of fresh vegetables from the
garden. And we can be on the lookout for deer on the way up. If we could shoot a couple of the critters along the road we could just dress them and throw them on the wagon. They should keep for a couple of hours, at least. I doubt the meat would last very long once it hit camp. It’ll get cooked up quick, for sure.”

  “Sounds like a good plan to me. Let’s get to it.” William paused thoughtfully. “But to be honest, Johnny, I don’t like the idea of leaving the farm unattended. I think it’ll be best if one of us goes up to deliver the food and one stays here. I want to see James really badly, but it’s probably best that you go and I stay put.”

  John nodded his agreement and smiled. “I reckon you’re right. You’re getting mighty wise in your old age, little brother.”

  “I’m just a lot more comfortable staying put on my own place.”

  “All right, William. You go ahead and get those turkeys cleaned. I’ll pull the wagon around and load the corn meal and dried meat. That’s all we really need to do tonight. We can pick all the vegetables fresh right before I leave in the morning. I can also take a couple of jugs of fresh milk for James and his buddies.”

  “Boy, they’ll love that for sure! As long as it doesn’t go bad before you get there,” William chuckled. “I’ll have these turkeys cleaned up and over the fire in no time. You can take one of them for Jamie tomorrow, too!”

  For the next couple of hours the boys busied themselves with their work. John loaded eight fifty-pound sacks of corn meal into the wagon. He placed them in the front of the cargo space, right behind the seat. He wanted to leave the rest of the wagon clear just in case he might be able to get a deer or two along the road. He also dug a bushel of new potatoes out of the garden and placed them in the wagon. He would wait to pick the fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, and melons in the morning. Meanwhile, William prepared the birds for supper.

  They ate themselves sick on the delicious, smoky meat that night and barely ate half of one bird. Afterwards they cut up the remainder of the meat and wrapped it in clean cloth to take to James. John cleaned his rifle, packed a full shooting bag, topped off his powder horn, and then the boys went to bed early.