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

by Geoff Baggett

  “That’s what I’m hoping,” answered William.

  “Well, however long he’s gone, you are welcome to come here as often as you like. You can stay here, if needs be. I want you to know that you can count on Ephraim and me.”

  William hung his head. “Ephraim won’t want me in this house. He hates me. He hates all of us.”

  “Nonsense! He cares about you all very deeply. He just doesn’t know how to show it. He’s changed, Willie. In the early days he was awfully jealous of the love that I had for your father … God rest his soul. Ephraim treated you badly because of that jealousy. But he was wrong, and he knows it now. He would love to try and make things different, if you boys will just let him.”

  William sighed. “It’s not all up to me, but I’m willing to give him a chance.”

  “That’s all I can ask, son. Now … will you be staying with us tonight? I can prepare you a spot right here near the fireplace.”

  “No ma’am. I don’t want to leave the farm at night unless I absolutely have to. I just wanted to come and visit for a while.”

  “And maybe enjoy a little bit of your mother’s home cooking, I’ll wager.” She winked at her son and reached out to ruffle the hair on his forehead.

  “Yes ma’am. That might help my loneliness a bit.” He smiled sheepishly.

  “Well then, how’s about you go out to the rooster pen and bring me in a couple of birds? There are two of those big red monsters that have been causing all manner of trouble among the hens. We penned them up with the other roosters, but all they want to do is fight. It’s high time they found some flour and a hot skillet. Do you think you can capture the beasts?”

  “Oh, yes ma’am!” William’s mouth watered at the thought of hot fried chicken.

  “Well, be on your way, then. It’ll be dinner time before we know it.”

  William caught and butchered the two unruly roosters and brought the fresh meat in for his mother. One hour later he was seated at the table with his “other” family … all of his half siblings. It was a house full of little Farrs, actually. He stole a glance at his stepfather right after the blessing. Ephraim Farr nodded and winked at William, offering a soft smile of welcome.

  William was very glad that he had decided to visit that day. It lifted his spirits tremendously. But he knew he still had work to do on his own farm, so he bid farewell shortly after the noon meal and trudged through the woods back to his cabin home.

  He worked at various tasks throughout the afternoon and was just preparing to go inside and begin work on his evening meal when he heard the familiar rattle of the family wagon coming up the road. Johnny was back home!

  chapter nine

  William exploded, “What? James has been captured?”

  John nodded. “Yep. The whole regiment was captured. Gates’ entire army was either killed or captured. It was a rout. The battle happened at a place called Camden.”

  “So what happens now?” asked William.

  “I don’t know. I guess we wait and hope that he’ll be released or exchanged soon. I reckon the first thing we need to do is pray that he was actually captured.”

  William knew what that meant. Johnny didn’t know for sure that James had been captured. He might have died in the battle. There was no way to know.

  * * *

  A full month passed after James’ disappearance at Camden. For John and William it was the not knowing that was so hard. Not knowing if James was dead or alive. And if by some miracle he was alive, not knowing where he was being held, or if he was wounded, sick, or had enough food to eat. Not knowing was what kept the boys awake at night.

  So to combat their despair the Hamilton brothers stayed busy on the farm. Work was one of the few mechanisms at their disposal to help alleviate the absence of James. Yet at the same time his absence was such a huge burden on their work. For years James had been the true leader and workhorse on their small farm. He was the foreman and his brothers were the laborers. It had always been that way and it had always worked very well.

  But somehow John and William managed. The corn crop came in around the first of September. It was a bumper crop. They managed to bring in the harvest with a little help from Ephraim Farr and his hired workmen. John traded the bulk of the corn to the mill in exchange for ground corn meal and flour for winter storage. The boys fully stocked their own corncrib and even built a second crib to store ear corn for the livestock throughout the winter.

  The vegetable garden was still producing into early September. William worked the garden like a master. He had a real talent for it. He put in the cold-weather crops at the end of August. They would have ample turnips to add to the potatoes, onions, carrots, and beets in the root cellar. There would also be plenty of tasty cabbage for the fall.

  William spent quite a bit of time at their mother’s place. He ate often at his mother’s table. He played with the other kids. He even spent some nights at the Farr home, something that he would have never done if James were at home.

  John, on the other hand, had other priorities. He had courting on his mind. He began to spend lots of time at the John Skillington homestead. Each week he spent Friday and Saturday evenings and Sunday afternoons with the oldest daughter in the home, Mary Skillington. John and Mary were helplessly, hopelessly in love with one another. William imagined that his brother would marry the young woman in another year or two.

  Amazingly, despite the proximity of recent battles and the loss of over two hundred men from the local area at the Battle of Camden, the war had still not encroached upon the actual borders of the county of Mecklenburg. There were still skirmishes and engagements ongoing down in South Carolina, and the Tories to the north and east seemed emboldened by the British victories.

  Cornwallis, however, had stopped his army in the Waxhaws in South Carolina after his huge victory at Camden. The reason for his pause was unknown, but it was most welcome. And so the people of Charlotte and the surrounding areas had enjoyed an entire month of peaceful respite.

  But all of that changed in late September of 1780.

  John was enjoying a leisurely afternoon at the Skillington farm when his stepfather, Ephraim Farr, rode up on his horse. John walked out to meet him.

  “What’s wrong, sir? Did something happen to William?”

  “No, John. I’m just here to deliver a message. Patriot spies have gotten word through that the British are preparing to move north. The report is that they will pull out of the Waxhaws and head north in the next few days. General Davidson has called up all the area militiamen who can and will serve and is asking every able-bodied man to report for duty at the courthouse at dawn day after tomorrow. I promised to bring the message out this way.”

  “All right. Thank you, sir. I will be there. Is there anything else?”

  “No, son. I’ll see you Tuesday at dawn. And I’ll make sure William just stays at our house with your mother until this all blows over.”

  “Thank you, sir. That really does help set my mind at ease.”

  “I knew it would.” He smiled at John … a sincere, caring smile. It seemed strange to John, but not unpleasant. “Bring lots of food and lead. I’ll have a horn of powder for you.”

  Ephraim turned his horse and rode back toward his home. Mary came quickly from the house, her parents right behind her.

  “What is it, Johnny? What’s wrong? Is somebody hurt?”

  “No, Mary. No one is hurt. It was about the militia. Ephraim was just delivering a message.”

  “What message?” inquired John Skillington, walking up to the young couple.

  “It’s about the British, sir. General Davidson has gotten word that the Redcoats are pulling out of the Waxhaws and heading north. They expect them to be here some time Tuesday or after. The militia’s been called up. All able-bodied men who will serve are expected at the courthouse at dawn day after tomorrow.”

  “So you’re going?” inquired Mrs. Skillington.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m a sworn member o
f the regiment.”

  “I guess I’ll see you Tuesday morning, then,” remarked John Skillington.

  John nodded his response. He turned to Mary. “I have to go home now and get ready, Mary. I’ll come and see you when this is all over.”

  Mary smiled. “Prepare well, and take care of yourself, Johnny Hamilton. I have plans for you.”

  Tuesday, September 26, came quickly. Ephraim Farr and John Skillington arrived at the Hamilton boys’ cabin shortly before sunrise. John had just finished his breakfast and gathered his supplies. He walked out of the front door with his rifle in his hand.

  John stopped and turned to his little brother. “I’ll be back as soon as this is all over.”

  William hugged his brother. “You just be careful, Johnny. I need you around here.”

  “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

  Ephraim Farr spoke, “William, I want you to gather your things and go to my house and be with your mother. I don’t like leaving her alone with the kids. If something happens to me, I need a man at the house to help her.”

  William nodded at his stepfather. “Yes, sir. You can depend on me.”

  John Hamilton, John Skillington, and Ephraim Farr turned and rode their horses silently along the road headed southwest toward Charlotte just as the dull light of dawn filtered into the eastern sky. They were going to fight the Redcoats.

  William stood and watched them riding away, wondering if he would ever see either of his brothers again.

  He finished his chores in the cabin and barn and then prepared to go to the Farr homestead. He prepared for a stay of several days, packing a large snapsack full of extra socks, shirts, and supplies. He grabbed his musket and set out on foot through the woods on the familiar trail to his mother’s house.

  The typical yard full of Farr children greeted him upon his arrival, as well as his baby brother, Hugh. Hugh was the youngest son of his father, the late Hugh Hamilton. Hugh was a baby, less than two years old, when his father died from a tragic fall off of a friend’s barn. Ephraim had treated the baby a little more kindly in those early days of his marriage to Hugh Hamilton’s widow and had, in time, accepted him as his own son.

  William enjoyed spending time with the ten-year-old Hugh. Though a few years younger than William, they had a lot in common and they played well together. Hugh enjoyed following William around and imitating the actions of his big brother. William actually enjoyed being the big brother for a change.

  The kids had a fun-filled morning and enjoyed a big family picnic dinner under the shade at noontime. Margaret Hamilton was a wonderful mother and took great joy in seeing all of her youngest children at play in the pasture beside her home. It was a peaceful, serene scene.

  But that peace was shattered when Ephraim Farr came galloping fast along a deer trail to the west. He skidded to a stop in front of the barn and jumped off of the exhausted, foaming horse. Hugh took the reins and pulled the horse toward the trough in the shade of the barn.

  His wife exclaimed, “Ephraim! What on earth is wrong? Why did you torture that poor horse to the point of frothing at the mouth?”

  Ephraim emptied a canteen of water over his own head in an attempt to cool his scorched red skin. He was breathing heavily. He finally got his breath.

  “The British have taken Charlotte! Tarleton’s dragoons overwhelmed our defenses. The Redcoats are everywhere.”

  “Where’s Johnny?” she demanded.

  “He’s been taken to John Skillington’s cabin.”

  “What do you mean, ‘taken?’”

  Ephraim placed both hands on his wife’s shoulders and looked her square in the eye.

  “Sweetheart, John Skillington pulled him off of the defense line and managed to get him onto his horse. They rode out of Charlotte when I did. John’s hurt really badly. He’s wounded in his head.”

  Margaret Farr’s eyes rolled back in her head and she fainted, falling limply onto the loose, red dirt.

  William grabbed his musket and took off running toward the Skillington farm.

  Ephraim called out, “William, wait!”

  William ignored him and kept running.

  chapter ten

  William reached the farm almost a half-hour later. It wasn’t very far to the Skillington place, but he had to cross some rough country. William burst through the front door. He was shocked by what he found.

  John was stripped to the waist and lying on a bed in the corner. The bed was covered in blood. Mary and Mrs. Skillington were working feverishly to clean and bandage his wounds.

  “What happened? Is he shot?” demanded William.

  John Skillington walked to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “No, son, John didn’t get shot. He had a large stone from a wall fall and hit him across the back of the head. It cut him wide open and he’s swelled up pretty bad.”

  “How did a stone fall on him?”

  “John shot the horse out from under one of those British Legion men. The horse kept running right into the wall in front of John. It knocked the rocks loose, I reckon. He’s got another cut beside his eye. I think the horse’s teeth actually did that.”

  “Is he going to be all right?”

  “I think so. He’s lost a lot of blood. But he’s breathing just fine.”

  “Has he been awake at all?”

  “No, William. That rock knocked him out cold when it hit him. He’s been out ever since.”

  Tears formed in William’s eyes. He blurted out, “First Jamie, and now Johnny, too! What am I going to do?”

  “I’ll tell you what you’re going to do … you’re going to be strong and not lose hope. You’re going to be a man and take care of your farm and hold things together for your brothers. Do you think you can do that?”

  William nodded, “I can do that.”

  “Good. Now I need you to get on out of here. I don’t think I was followed when I left town, but I can’t be sure. I don’t want you to get caught with a musket in your hand if a detail of Redcoats shows up. Go back to your Mama’s place and tell her to get on over here. We could use her help taking care of John.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll go fetch her right now.”

  “Good. Now get going.”

  William turned and took off running for the Farr farm, retracing his steps along the path that he had blazed just minutes before.

  * * *

  Life flowed into a steady rhythm for William at the Farr homestead. Each morning Hugh accompanied him back to his own farm to take care of the livestock and milk the cows. It was hard work and a lot of travel. And it wasn’t easy getting the milk back to the Farr cabin, but William and Hugh eventually worked out a system. The hard work helped distract William from the chaos that surrounded him.

  General Lord Cornwallis of the British army had set up his headquarters in Charlotte. His officers had pretty much taken over every other house and building in and around town for their quarters. His army camped just south of town along the road. Once he was settled and in firm control of the town, Cornwallis started issuing proclamations and lording over the local people.

  One of his very first actions was an attempt to disarm the citizens. The day after he took the town he issued a decree to all of the folk of Charlotte and Mecklenburg County that they were to give up their firearms and stay peacefully in their homes. He declared that the local people were now under the protection and jurisdiction of the King’s army.

  Next he went after food and supplies. He began to confiscate everything that he could find in order to feed his two thousand soldiers. The British took almost 30,000 pounds of flour and grain from Polk’s mill, the primary mill in the area, within the first two days. They slaughtered one hundred head of cattle each day to keep the army supplied in meat. The cattle population was dwindling fast.

  Of course, Cornwallis promised everyone British money for all the goods, but no one received any payment. Most of the local farmers began hiding their food and supplies … even their cattle and sheep … deep in the woo
ds. One particularly enthusiastic Patriot burned his barn to keep the British from getting his grain.

  William knew full well that his family’s entire supply of corn and all of the flour that they traded for had been housed at Polk’s mill. Their entire crop was gone. It would be a long, hungry winter.

  John woke up on the second day after the battle for Charlotte. By Sunday he felt well enough to move about. He attended church with the Skillington family. They attended the Poplar Tent Presbyterian Church, the same church that the Hamiltons and Farrs had attended since they arrived in North Carolina.

  William saw his brother riding up to the church in the Skillington wagon. He ran out to meet him. He’d heard that his brother was doing fine, but he had not seen him since he awakened from his state of unconsciousness.

  William exclaimed, “Brother, it is good you see you!”

  “I’m glad to see you too, squirt,” quipped John, grabbing his younger brother in a bear hug.

  “I hear you broke a stone wall with your head,” joked William.

  John laughed out loud, and then reached up to grab his throbbing head. “Don’t make me laugh, Willie. It hurts too bad!”

  “Let’s go inside,” encouraged William.

  So the boys went to church together. Afterwards the Farrs invited the Skillingtons and John over for a picnic and family time, and they gratefully accepted. Everyone had a marvelous time eating, telling stories, and laughing. The children played merrily in the meadow below the house. It was a perfect Sunday afternoon.

  Mrs. Skillington brought an end to the time of rest and leisure. “John, dear, it’s time to be heading home, don’t you think? Cows will need milking soon.”

  “Yes, my love, it is about that time.” He extended his hand to his host. “Ephraim, we are grateful for your hospitality. We have truly enjoyed this afternoon of rest. Maybe we can treat you folks next Sunday.”

  “That sounds good to me, John. We’ll plan on it.”