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

by Geoff Baggett

John Hamilton spoke up, “Mr. Skillington, I would sure like to take a look at my place before heading back to your cabin. William and Hugh will be going over to milk our cows here in a bit. Would you be all right with the notion of Mary riding with me and paying the place a visit? We won’t be long, I promise.”

  John Skillington pondered for a moment. “I reckon it’ll be all right, John. Just make sure you boys are all armed, and don’t take any chances. Cut cross-country and stay off the road.”

  “Yes, sir. I was thinking exactly the same thing.”

  “And make sure you’re both back well before dark. If I have to come looking for you you’re liable to get another knot on your skull.”

  “Yes, sir.” John smiled.

  A few minutes later three horses were headed east through the thick woods to make the quarter-mile journey to the Hamilton farm. William and Hugh had an odd assortment of empty jars and jugs tied across the necks of their horses for carrying Sylvia and Barthenia’s rich milk back to the Farr cabin. Mary rode behind John, her arms locked tightly around his waist. It was a perfect afternoon for a ride. The air was cool and pleasant. John was excited to be able to visit his home.

  William, who was leading the small column, brought his horse to a rather sudden stop.

  “Do you smell that?” he asked.

  John took a deep breath. He smelled smoke. “Smells like a campfire.”

  “Something’s not right, Johnny,” William stated urgently. “I think I see black smoke up ahead.”

  A sudden fear gripped them both. They were very close to their cabin … their home.

  “The cabin!” William exclaimed. He screamed at his horse, “Hyah!” He dug his feet into her sides and galloped off toward the cabin as quickly as the mare would run.

  His heart almost ripped in two at the sight that awaited him when he emerged from the trees. Their beloved cabin and barn, built by their father’s own hands, were both engulfed in flames.

  Hugh pointed to a fencepost next to the burning barn. “What’s that?”

  There was a large piece of paper nailed to the post. John ran over and grabbed the paper. Mary leaned over his shoulder to read what it said. She gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

  William exclaimed, “What does it say, John?”

  John trembled as he read it out loud, “REWARD. Ten Guineas Gold for the Capture or Bodies of the Traitors and Outlaws James Hamilton & William Hamilton & John Hamilton. Wanted for the Murder of His Majesty’s Brave and Faithful Soldiers. By Order of His Excellency General Lord Cornwallis.”

  chapter eleven

  “This is because of what happened on the McClelland farm, isn’t it?” asked William.

  John nodded. “There aren’t many Tories around here, but it only took one to tell about our fight on the McClelland farm. It’s enough that we fought and killed five of the British Legion soldiers. But I’m sure that the story has gotten even wilder and more far-fetched every time that it’s been told. There’s no telling what we’ve been accused of.”

  William looked woefully at the house and barn. “Well, at least they didn’t get all of our livestock. Hugh and I hid them deep in the woods earlier this week.”

  “Good thinking, little brother.” He sighed. “Well, there’s no use sticking around here and watching it burn. We’ll rebuild our cabin someday … when this horrible war is over.”

  “Yes we will!” stated William, determined.

  The British had declared war on the Hamilton family, so John and William decided to declare war right back on them. The day after the British burned their home they made contact with Captain James Thompson of the Mecklenburg militia. They stated their desire to join the growing guerilla force that was harassing Cornwallis.

  The captain welcomed them and added John to the contact list for future action against the enemy. Now all they had to do was wait for a call-up. Captain Thompson informed them that they were free to harass the British as they saw fit, but they did so at their own risk.

  “But to tell the truth, we could use William for a mission right now,” stated the captain.

  “What kind of mission?” inquired William.

  “We need information. We can’t get any men into town to obtain intelligence on the enemy. It’s too risky. But William could get right into their headquarters and not even be noticed.”

  John interrupted, “Captain, you’re asking William to be a spy. They could hang him if he gets caught.”

  The captain nodded, “Yes, that could happen. But honestly, John, William already has a price on his head. The Redcoats could hang him anyway, if they caught him and if that’s what they wanted to do.”

  John nodded his agreement. “He’ll have to have some sort of disguise. We don’t want anyone to recognize him and tell the Redcoats who he is.”

  “I’ve already thought of that,” stated the captain. “We would like to send him in as a Tory messenger from Charlestown.”

  “What?” exclaimed John. “How could he pretend to be that?”

  “Well, we captured one of their uniformed messengers about ten miles south of town yesterday. He’s a young lad, not much older than William and about the same size. He carried a marked case of dispatches for Lord Cornwallis. We can take William south of the village and send him in disguised as that messenger. But it must be done today.”

  “Why can’t I be the messenger?” asked John.

  “Because you’re a foot taller and fifty pounds heavier than skinny little William,” remarked the captain. “He’s the only Patriot that I know of who can pull this off.”

  William interrupted their banter, “I’ll do it.”

  John spoke out, “But, William …”

  “I said I’ll do it!” interrupted William. “You two have been talking about me as if I weren’t even here. Johnny, this isn’t up to you. It’s my decision. This is my chance to serve the cause. I’ll do it!”

  The captain nodded his approval. “Very well, then. William, let’s turn you into a Tory messenger!”

  * * *

  William hated the uniform that he was wearing. It was made of rough, itchy wool. But the worst part was that it was red. He wore the trademark red and blue coat of the South Carolina Royalist Regiment. And then there was the silly wig that the captain made him wear. He tugged at the dark curls. It was humiliating.

  William was waiting in the woods one mile south of Charlotte, ready to begin his gallop into town. He just hoped that none of the Mecklenburg County guerillas took a shot at him along the road. The captain had promised him that it wouldn’t happen. To help convince the British of his identity, the Patriots set up a fake ambush a half-mile south of Charlotte. Twelve men were assigned to fire their muskets and rifles into the air as William rode by.

  John and Captain Thompson sat on horseback beside William.

  “All right, William, you’re solid on our plan, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, sir. I gallop past the fake ambush as fast as I can, and then as soon as the town comes into view, I turn and fire my pistol down the road.”

  “Exactly! And if our little ruse works, you should be able to walk right into Cornwallis’ office. Try to get any information that you can. Find out about troop movements. We particularly need to know what their next target might be. If we can figure out where they’re taking a large column of troops, we can set up an ambush and do some significant damage.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll try to find out what I can. What if they ask a lot of questions or make me stay in town?”

  The captain cautioned, “Try to tell as few lies as possible … they get harder to remember the more of them you tell. Keep your answers vague. Don’t claim to know anyone you don’t really know. They will, most likely, give you dispatches to take back to Charlestown tomorrow. Just ride south like a normal messenger. We’ll be right here on this spot waiting for you.”

  “Yes, sir.” William took a deep breath. “I think I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “All right, th
en. Good luck and God speed.” The captain shook his hand. “You’re a brave Patriot, William Hamilton.”

  John stared at his little brother. “You be careful, little brother. I don’t want to have to explain to Mama how I went and let you get your neck stretched.”

  “I’ll be fine, Johnny. I’ll see you at supper tomorrow.”

  William clucked at his borrowed horse and began to head north toward Charlotte, gradually increasing his speed. A half-mile north a group of men mingling along the road waved at him as he approached. William waved back. The men ducked into the woods. Just as William reached their position they unleashed a ragged volley of shots into the air and screamed a chorus of war whoops.

  William kicked his horse and snapped the reins. He leaned forward over its neck and held on tightly as the horse reached an all-out gallop. He could hear the thunder of his horse’s hooves. It was actually a magnificent animal. It ran like the wind. Moments later Charlotte came into view. William could see a cluster of soldiers gathering in the center of the road.

  “This is it!” William thought.

  He pulled his English flintlock pistol from his belt, cocked the hammer, and spun sideways, firing a single shot down the empty road.

  The Redcoats in the roadway rapidly formed a line, their muskets at the ready.

  “Oh, Lord, please don’t let them shoot me!”

  Just as William approached the line of soldiers, the ones in the middle moved aside and gave him an opening through which he might pass. He galloped through the gap and then looked back over his shoulder to see the Redcoats close ranks behind him. The line of twelve soldiers then fired a concentrated volley at their imaginary enemy.

  The ruse had worked! William was in Charlotte, and they believed him to be a Loyalist soldier!

  chapter twelve

  An officer standing near one of the larger homes in town, formerly Colonel Polk’s house, waved at William to flag him down. William pulled his horse to a stop in front of the home. He looked around and acted like he had never seen the village before.

  “State your business, Private!” barked the officer with a heavy English accent.

  “Sir, I’m Private William Harper of the South Carolina Royalist Regiment, bearing dispatches from Charlestown for General Cornwallis.” William patted the pouch under his arm.

  “We expected you yesterday, son. Why the delay?”

  William expected this challenge. He replied, “My horse went lame just north of Camden. It took some time to find me a replacement mount.”

  The officer seemed satisfied with his explanation. “Very well, give me your dispatches and await further instructions at the tavern.”

  “Begging your pardon, sir, but I don’t know you. These dispatches are for General Cornwallis. I must insist that I hand them over to him personally.”

  The officer smiled. “Good answer, private. You have been trained well. Follow me and I will make your introduction.” He turned to a Redcoat soldier standing nearby. “Corporal, see to this man’s horse. See that it is watered, fed, and prepared for a return to Charlestown in the morning.”

  “Yes, sir!” the corporal responded.

  William climbed down from the tall horse and handed the reins to the soldier.

  The officer raised one eyebrow. “Goodness, aren’t you a tiny little fellow? How did you ever get into His Majesty’s service? How old are you, boy?”

  “Fifteen sir. My father volunteered me for messenger service. They needed men who were small and light and who knew how to ride.”

  “I see. Well, you certainly fit the bill, don’t you?” The officer smiled at him, revealing several woefully crooked teeth.

  William smiled back. “That’s why I’m here and not back home in Charlestown, sir.”

  “Quite. Come along, then.” The officer led William through the gate into the yard and up the steps into Colonel Polk’s house. William followed the man to a set of closed double doors. It was the entrance to the study that served as General Cornwallis’ office.

  The officer cautioned, “I will introduce you to the general. Do not speak unless you are spoken to. Answer only the questions that the general asks. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Excellent.” The officer swung open both doors.

  “Lord, a messenger has arrived bearing dispatches from Charlestown. He insists upon delivering those dispatches personally. The boy experienced difficulties with his horse near Camden. A replacement animal had to be obtained, causing a delay.”

  The general was seated in the huge leather-bound chair behind the desk. He looked over the top of his reading glasses and evaluated William.

  After a few moments he looked back down at his papers and then spoke, “Did you encounter any difficulty on the highway?”

  William cleared his throat. “Not until I arrived here, sir. I was ambushed about a mile outside of town.”

  The general glanced up at him. “I see that you escaped unscathed.”

  “Yes, sir. I was riding pretty fast. I don’t think they were expecting me.”

  The general grunted. “Your were lucky, indeed. I’ve lost at least a dozen messengers in the past week alone. This is an agreeable enough village, but it is a veritable hornet’s nest of rebellion. The people of this county are more hostile to England than any other place in America.”

  William remained solemn and standing at attention, but he smiled on the inside.

  The general ignored him as he studied the maps and papers in front of him.

  “Major Edwards, come here for a moment.”

  The major answered, “Yes, sir!” He scurried to the general’s desk.

  “Major, one of our operatives has indicated that there is a treasure trove of supplies at the farm of a man named McIntyre located here, approximately eight miles north of the village.” The general pointed to a spot on his map. “Have we reconnoitered that location yet?”

  The major examined the map. “No, General. There have been rumors of supplies at that farm, but I have not risked sending a detail due to its considerable distance from our forces here in Charlotte.”

  The general waved his hand dismissively. “We cannot tarry any longer. The needs of our army outweigh the risks. I want you to take a detail in force to that location tomorrow morning at first light. Assign at least four hundred infantry and dragoons. Take every available wagon. We should have at least fifty at our disposal by now. Put on a show of force. The rebels won’t dare attack such an imposing enemy.”

  “Yes, sir. I will make arrangements forthwith.”

  William’s mind was reeling. This was exactly the information that he was trying to obtain! He knew when the British were moving out, where they were headed, and how many of them there would be! He had to get this information to the militia tonight! William suddenly felt a rush of excitement and anticipation.

  “Being a spy is exciting!” thought William.

  The general realized that the messenger was still standing at attention before him. He took off his glasses and leaned back in his chair.

  He spoke to William, “Young man, you are to be commended for your bravery and your ability to deliver your correspondence. Please leave my dispatches with the major. He will arrange a meal and a room for you. I doubt that I will have any messages prepared tomorrow, so you may spend the day at your leisure. However, I expect you to be prepared to return to Charlestown the day after tomorrow.”

  William snapped his heels and stood up straight and tall, “Yes, sir! And thank you sir!”

  The general put his glasses back on and looked down at his map. “You are dismissed.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  William spun around and headed out the door, following the major. Once outside he handed the leather case to the officer. The major walked over to his desk in the corner and scratched out a note on a small piece of paper.

  “Private, this is a voucher for a hot meal today and tomorrow and a bed for two nights. Take it to the tavern d
own the block. They have a small room that we have kept available for messengers. They will attend to your needs.”

  “Thank you, sir,” William responded.

  “Report back to me for your orders at daybreak day after tomorrow.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “You are dismissed. Get some rest. Good show, by the way, getting past those marauders on the highway. You showed skill and cunning. You made quite an impression on Lord Cornwallis. I’d say he has taken quite a liking to you.”

  William smiled at the officer. He lied brazenly, “The feeling is mutual, sir.”

  He turned and walked out the door, placing his black British cocked hat on his head as he walked down the steps.

  William thought proudly, “So … General Cornwallis thinks Charlotte is a ‘hornet’s nest’ of Patriots. I’ll show him! I’m the toughest little hornet in town! I’m going to make sure his column of wagons gets blasted back to South Carolina!”

  William made his way to the tavern and secured his room. He wanted to remain out of sight as much as possible, just in case someone in town might recognize him. He asked the attendant to bring his meal upstairs to him so that he could eat in private. The food arrived about an hour later. He devoured the plate of food and then settled in to wait for darkness.

  Throughout the afternoon William noted the movements of the sentries. He watched their patterns and the directions that they took as they patrolled. He soon discovered an opening in their perimeter not far from the tavern. He decided that he would wait until midnight, when everyone but the sentries was asleep, to make his break for the woods.

  He had no choice … he had to get word to the militia about the British mission planned for tomorrow morning!

  William was nervous. He paced all around the room, wishing that the sun would go down. At long last midnight arrived. He hadn’t seen a sentry in quite some time.

  He thought, “Now is the time to get away!”

  He quietly opened a window in his room that faced the woods to the rear of the tavern. Quietly, stealthily, he crawled through the window and hung from the sill by his fingertips. He counted to three and then let go, dropping noisily to the rocky ground below. He crouched down low and glanced around to see if anyone was watching. Seeing no one he eased into the woods and soon found a deer path to follow to the north.