The Winter Hero

by James Lincoln Collier

  “That’s fine. Then you’ll be happy to lend us your horses.”

  We led the horses and sleighs back around the green to where Captain Hamlin was waiting with some others. There were a dozen men standing there, shivering and looking scared. They were the hostages. I wondered who they were.

  Men began to come in with provisions—sacks of cornmeal, barrels of cider, sides of pork. We loaded up the sleighs, formed up, and set out, still heading south. We were heading for Great Barrington, where there were a lot of farmers in prison for debt. I felt guilty about taking the hostages and the horses, but it felt good for us to be on top for a change. The men were in good spirits—we’d really done something, finally.

  We got down to Great Barrington toward the end of the afternoon. There was a snow-covered green here, too, with taverns and houses around it. We marched around the green and halted. People stood at doors and windows and watched us, nervous about what we might do. At one window in a house near to where I was standing two little children were looking out a window. All I could see were their faces with big eyes peering out. I figured it was something they’d remember all their lives, and it made me proud to be part of it. It made me feel the glory in it.

  Peter took a detachment down a side lane that led away from the green. In about fifteen minutes they came back leading a bunch of ragged-looking men. The men ran cheering into the streets. They were the ones who’d been jailed for debt. They spread out in all directions and disappeared. I figured they were heading for their homes.

  It was beginning to get dark. Peter came down the line and broke us into groups of ten. Each group got a ration of food and then went off to spend the night in barns. I was tired from all that marching, and I slept pretty well. When I woke up in the morning, Peter was shaking me. “What?” I said, sitting up in the gloom of the barn.

  “Get up,” he said. He was crouched on his haunches in front of me. I rubbed my eyes. He looked me in the face. “Are you ready for a fight?”

  I blinked and stared back. I was only half awake. “What?”

  “You don’t have to go if you don’t want. You boys can change your minds if you want.”

  “What fight, Peter?”

  “There are government troops out looking for us. A group of about a hundred or so. They’ve come out from Pittsfield after us.”

  I was a lot more awake now. Levi and Tom were sitting up in the hay, too, listening. “Are they coming here?” I asked.

  Peter looked around at Levi and Tom, and then back to me. “We’re not going to run anymore. We’re going out to meet them. There’ll be real fighting before the day is over, for sure. If you boys want to get out, now’s the chance. Nobody would blame you. Nobody wants to see boys get killed.”

  My heart was whirring, and my stomach went cold. “I’m coming,” I said.

  Peter looked at Tom and Levi. “And you boys?”

  “I’m coming.”

  “Me, too.”

  Peter stood up. “I hope we’re all not sorry later. All right, form up by the green.” And he went out.

  Saying you are going out to meet the enemy and actually doing it are two different things. First you have to find him, and then you have to maneuver yourself around so you can take him from a good position. You want to catch him by surprise, or take him from a hilltop where there’s good cover. And, of course, he’d be trying to do the same thing to us.

  This meant an awful lot of marching to and fro at a pretty good clip. First Captain Hamlin would send out little detachments of two or three scouts in different directions. They’d try to find out from farmers or anybody else if the government troops had been by, and which direction they were going in. Then, when we got some information, we’d take off in the right direction. After we’d gone a ways and Captain Hamlin figured the enemy might be somewhere around, he’d send out some more scouts. So first we’d march at about as fast a pace as we could go, and then we’d stand around and wait while the scouts were out. I couldn’t decide which was worse. I was always glad to stop marching and rest, but after we’d be standing around for a half hour in the cold, I’d start wishing we’d march again so I could get warm.

  We did that all day, and at nightfall we were at a place called Egremont, which was on the New York State border. As it got dark, we drew rations and crawled into barns to sleep.

  That was Tuesday. When we got up Wednesday morning it was snowing and we knew we were going to be cold and miserable all day. We ate breakfast quickly. Captain Hamlin had got information that the government troops were somewhere down near Sheffield, a town on the Connecticut border in the southwest corner of Massachusetts. He had heard that they were moving up toward Egremont to find us. We formed up and headed south in the direction of Sheffield. It seemed sure that the two enemies would bump into each other now. I just hoped they didn’t catch us by surprise. With snow pouring down, our scouts wouldn’t be able to see more than fifty yards ahead. The government troops could be marching right for us, and neither of us would know it until we were within close shooting distance of each other.

  We marched all morning and at noon we found a barn and rested and then we went out to march again. The country we were going through now was very hilly. We kept going through ravines with steep, rocky cliffs going up on either side of us, and then up steep hills. Sometimes the road would be pure rock where ledges broke through the ground. There were great hemlocks everywhere. The land was too rocky for growing anything and too steep for cattle to graze. Some of these places had never been cleared; they’d been hemlock forests way back into Indian times. The hemlock forests were beautiful. The long branches of the trees stuck out straight so that there was a lot of room around each one. There was snow all over the branches, which made a kind of roof over the forest floor. The forests were filled with green light that the falling snow flickered through. It was beautiful, and it felt funny to think of war going on in a place so beautiful.

  Still we marched, and still no government troops. The scouts were out permanently now; two in the front, two behind, and one on each side, working his way through the rocks and cliffs beside us. But the scouts weren’t going to do much good. In the falling snow they wouldn’t see the enemy much before the rest of us would.

  Uphill and downhill through the craggy ravines and hemlock forests we went. And we were at the top of the hill going through a hemlock forest with its great tree trunks, wide spaces, and snow ceiling, when we heard a shout, and then a shot. “Halt,” Captain Hamlin shouted. I saw the scouts come running toward us through the falling snow. “Take cover on both sides of the road,” Hamlin shouted. Our line broke like a dropped glass as the men scattered, falling flat at the side of the road, or crouching down in the deep snow behind the hemlocks. I didn’t even think. I just jumped in behind a tree trunk and crouched there, up to my knees in snow, my heart pounding like thunder.

  There were more shots from up front, first a few, and then a steady fusillade. Balls whistled around me, thunking into tree trunks, or slashing through branches to send down cascades of snow. The government troops couldn’t see us, but they knew where we were and they were firing randomly to keep us pinned down.

  I kept my head behind the tree. I knew that sooner or later I would have to look out, but I was scared that the minute I did, I would catch a ball in my face. I looked around. I was about five yards off the road. Levi was off to one side of me behind a tree. I couldn’t see Tom. There were other men behind trees, peeking around the trunks with their muskets aimed forward. Out in the road, two men lay on their faces. One of them was snaking his body over to the side of the road where there was better cover. The other one was not moving. Then I saw a kind of deep shudder pass over his whole body. He began to suck in air in deep gasps. I knew he was dying and I wondered what he was thinking.

  I had to stop being a coward and get my face around the tree. I crouched as low as I could into the snow and began to peek around. Suddenly I remembered that the cloth was still in the muzzle o
f my musket. I pulled back and jerked the cloth out. Then I swung myself over so I could see around the tree.

  There was nothing out there but hemlocks and falling snow. I realized that I was at the front of our line. I kept staring forward. In the distance through the falling snow I could see flashes of movement, but it was hard to make out what they were or how far away they were.

  Now Peter came running up the road from the direction of the enemy. I guessed he had crawled in close to have a look at them. He was running crouched as low as he could, with his musket dangling in one hand. The firing suddenly got heavier and I could see balls kick up snow around him. He kept running until he was abreast of where we were crouched behind the trees and then he flung himself down in the road, with only his head raised up.

  “Hold your fire, boys,” he shouted. “Save your ammunition. They’ll charge us soon. Stand firm, pick your targets, and wait until you’ve got a sure shot before you fire. We’re as strong as they are. Stand firm and we can break the charge.” Then he jumped up into the running crouch again and raced off to give his order to another bunch.

  I pulled back behind the tree, took my father’s sword out of its scabbard, and stuck it in the snow where I could grab it easily. I sure didn’t like the idea of fighting a man who had a bayonet when I had only a sword. I didn’t know anything at all about sword fighting. I opened up my powder and ball pouches. I didn’t know if I’d have time to reload after I’d got off my first shot, but I wanted to be ready anyway.

  I put myself far enough around the tree to point my musket forward and fire. The man lying in the road was still gasping for breath. Every once in a while that deep shudder would pass over him. My heart was pounding and my head was numb. I couldn’t think. All I knew was that in a few minutes I would either kill a man or be killed myself, and I knew that I didn’t want to do either. Waiting was awful. I didn’t want them to come, I wanted them suddenly to march off in the other direction. But the waiting was so bad half of me wanted them to come to get it over with.

  Then, through the falling snow I saw movement. There came a shout in the woods, and then another one, and at last I saw men, real men, running up the road toward us, their bayonets fixed on their weapons. They were forty or fifty yards down the road, brown blurs in the falling snow. I figured they wouldn’t try to run through the deep snow in the woods, but would come up the road until they were abreast of us, and then make their charge into the woods.

  There seemed like an awful lot of them. They filled the road. “Wait,” I whispered to myself. “Wait, don’t fire yet.” I could make out their faces now, just the faces of ordinary men, the same kind of men I knew in my own troop, wearing the same kind of homespun clothes that we had on. Suddenly they veered off the road into the woods and spread out. They crouched down in the snow behind the trees the way we were, and began to fire. I ducked back behind my tree. The balls were thunking around us, but this time they could see us. I knew I had to look out again, because somebody could be charging silently through the snow at me. I put my face out and then swung my musket around. Then there was a shout, and they rose up from behind the trees and began running as fast as they could through the snow toward us. It looked like a forest of bayonets coming toward me. I blinked and made myself choose a man to shoot at. He was young, maybe eighteen or twenty, with a lot of blond hair sticking out of his cap, and he came and took one hand off his musket and wiped perspiration from his face. I just crouched there thinking, “How can I shoot him?” and the next thing I knew I was standing up with the musket to my shoulder. I let off one wild shot and turned and ran back through the hemlock forest, struggling through the snow away from those bayonets. I realized I’d run again.

  I made myself stop and drop down behind a hemlock. I crouched there hating myself, cold from fear and hot from running. Around me everything was confusion. The government men were coming forward in little dashes, and our men were falling back, firing, and falling back again. There wasn’t much they could do against those bayonets but retreat and try to reload on the run so they could fire again.

  And then I saw Peter. He was standing in the middle of the road, right next to the body of the man who was dying. He was holding his musket over his head like a club.

  Charging toward him was a government man, his bayonet thrust forward. Peter swung. The man swiveled sideways, but the barrel caught him on one shoulder. He dropped to one knee, and in one motion rose again, slicing upward with the bayonet. Peter jumped back. His left foot came down on the back of the dying man. Peter began to tip over backward, waving his arms as if he could somehow swing himself up again, and then he was lying on his back and the government man was jumping over the dying man to get at Peter.

  I was halfway out of the forest before I even knew that I was moving, struggling desperately in the deep snow. Now the government man was over Peter, the bayonet poised. I plunged the last two steps out of the forest onto the cleared road. The government man pulled the bayonet back. I grabbed my musket by the barrel with both hands and flung myself forward. The government man started to jab. I swung the musket around like a club. It caught him on the side of his head. He shouted something, staggered off to the side of the road, and dropped to his knees. Peter leaped to his feet. I dashed back into the woods where I had come from, and Peter dashed off in the opposite direction into the woods across the road.

  At that moment there came a drumming of gunfire from somewhere down the road. There were more government troops coming up the hill. There wasn’t any hope anymore, and I began to run off through the forest as fast as I could go in the snow, heading away from the field of battle.

  Chapter Twelve

  I WASN’T ALONE. THERE WERE A LOT OF US struggling through the snow. We weren’t headed in any direction, just away. Behind us were a lot of government troops with those fearsome bayonets. We were just fleeing in all directions. I kept on moving and finally up ahead, I made out Levi Bullock, standing against a tree and catching his breath. “Levi,” I shouted.

  He turned to face me and shook his head grimly. I came up. “We bit off more than we could chew that time,” he said.

  “At least we stood for a while,” I said. I didn’t like remembering that I’d run.

  “Well, we did. But they were too many for us.”

  “Have you seen Tom Mayo?” I asked.

  “He’s up ahead somewhere. We’d better keep moving.”

  The government troops weren’t following us, however. The snow was deep and it would be dark soon. “I guess they’re content to scatter us,” I said.

  “They took some prisoners,” Levi said. “I saw them rounding up a bunch of our men on the road. It’ll go hard with them.”

  I hoped they hadn’t caught Peter. “Will they hang them?”

  ‘They might,” Levi said. “We’d better keep moving, at least until it’s really dark.”

  We moved off, and shortly after that we came upon Tom Mayo, crouched in the snow, resting. There were still a few of our men scattered here and there in the forest, but with the dark coming it was hard to know how many. We stood in the snow, planning. “We’ve got to hide out for a while,” Levi said. “Nobody knows what the government might do to punish us.”

  “But where?”

  “I think we ought to go up to Lanesboro,” Levi said. “My family will hide us until we can find out what the government intends to do.”

  “It’ll be risky anyplace we go,” I said. “If we’d have given up and taken the oath after Petersham like some of the others did, we’d be free and clear, but they’re not likely to give us pardons now—not after taking those hostages and opening the jail at Great Barrington.”

  “That’s the point,” Levi said. “If they punish anybody, it’ll be us.”

  “Lanesboro’s for the Regulators,” Tom said.

  “If they send the sheriff after us it won’t matter who Lanesboro is for,” Levi said. “But I can’t think of a better place to go.”

  Levi was righ
t—Lanesboro was the best idea. It sure wouldn’t have been smart for me to take a chance on getting back to Pelham. It’d take me a week to walk there, with government soldiers and sheriffs all around. We could get to Lanesboro in a couple of days. “We should go to Lanesboro and rest up a little, anyway. The main thing is that we’ve got to get out of these woods pretty quick. We can’t spend the night here. We’d freeze to death. We’ve got to find a barn.” It crossed my mind that maybe I’d never get back to Pelham, but would spend my life wandering from village to village dodging the sheriffs.

  We started off, cutting through the woods away from the road in hopes of coming upon another road somewhere. Finally the hemlocks gave out. We broke into an open field and soon enough came down onto a road. We walked along a few miles until it was dead night and most people would be asleep, and then we snuck into the first barn we came to and bedded down in the hay for the night. We got up at dawn and began walking again. Every once in a while we came to a fork in the road. We never knew which fork to take, but Levi said that if we kept heading in a northerly direction, sooner or later we’d hit some place he’d recognize. We walked all day, skirting around little villages through the fields when we came to them. We were cold and tired and wet and hungry, but we’d been all of those things for weeks and we knew that the best thing was to try not to think about them, and keep up a cheerful conversation. By nightfall Levi began to recognize the roads, and by midnight we were in Lanesboro.

  The Bullocks certainly made a fuss over us. Of course, they’d never heard of me and Tom before, but they were so happy to have Levi home, safe and sound, that they were glad to see us, too. They gave us a big meal of pork and gravy and cornbread and cider and then the question came up of where we should sleep.