Son of the Revolution (3 page)

Ahead, a dozen men sprawled around on the spongy grass. Some slept, resting for the journey ahead. Others stood watch and scrambled for their muskets at the sound of hooves.

“Settle down, boys. It’s me. Guess who I found?”

A few whoops greeted Caleb. Tom Longworth, oldest of the militia group shouted, “well, boy, you tried to get away, but we found you anyway.” The man’s voice rumbled when he laughed.

“Aw, Corporal Longworth, I didn’t run away. I got lost and captured by the Red Coats.” Caleb hung his head. Then, he brightened. “But I sure let those dandies have it. How do you think I got away? They put up quite a fight I can tell you, but I got the best of ’em. You should have seen those cowards run.”

“Well, General, guess we can all go home happy now. If you scared them Red Coats that bad, they’re probably hightailing it for England right now.”

The fun and story telling went on until night fell.

Caleb finally stomped off, weary of serving as a target of their jokes. Finding a secluded spot he stretched out and patted his pocket to make sure he still had Abby’s note. For a long time he lay still, turning the events of the last few days over in his mind. When at last he slept, he dreamed of the dark haired girl who risked her own safety to aid him.

When he next opened his eyes, thick fog blotted out the morning sun. The men lay in bedrolls around him. Some muttered in their sleep, reliving recent battles. Johnny Bell tossed and moaned. The blazing fire of last night had turned to gray ash and smoking embers. Rising from the dew-laden grass, Caleb felt ravenous. He shook his knapsack, hoping he might have missed a scrap of ham or some biscuit crumbs, but found nothing.

He wandered away from the sleeping men and spotted a small lean-to in the woods. Curious, he made his way through the trees. The shack’s door barely clung to its hinges. Caleb stepped across the threshold into the small space. He guessed it might have served as a storage place. A woven basket held several apples. Eagerly, he scooped up two of them. He tucked one into his pocket, rubbed the other on his sleeve, and sank his teeth into the fruit. Immediately, his nose wrinkled and his tongue tingled with the sour taste. Tossing the mealy fruit aside, he slumped to the ground and leaned against the side of the shack. He sat thinking again of everything that had happened to him in the last few days and wondered if he had done the right thing by joining the militia.

While he mused, his ears picked up the sound of hooves beating a tattoo on the main road. He listened for a moment to determine the direction in which they headed. He had his answer when the sounds grew louder. Springing up, he ran back to the group shaking each man in turn. “Wake up! I hear horses, lots of them. Wake up!”

Half asleep, the soldiers struggled to their feet, reached for their muskets and scattered into the woods. Caleb followed, and then stopped. His chest tightened when he realized this place offered no way out.

The riders closed in and their voices rang out in the misty dawn. Hearing them, the men of the militia turned to one another and grinned. “It’s all right everybody,” shouted Longworth. “They’re ours. Can’t you hear the sounds of Carolina in their speech?”

As the regiment reached the clearing, the militia stepped from the covers of the trees and broke into cheers. “Whoopee! We thought the Red Coats had us for sure. How’d you find us, Major?” The men grinned and waved as they surrounded the horsemen.

“We met a couple of men from your group on the road. They directed us. I am Major Hunt and these are my men. We’re the 16th Regiment of the Continental Army. Who’s in charge here?”

“Captain Joseph Johnson, sir, but he’s gone on ahead. Guess I’m next in line. I’m Corporal Longworth, sir.” The lanky militiaman twisted his hat between his fingers.

“I’m glad to meet you, corporal.” The major pulled out a rolled sheet of paper from his saddlebags. “Captain Johnson sent a letter asking that your group join us. He’s been transferred to the front lines. What do you say?”

“Aye, we’ll join you, sir.” Longworth looked at his men to see if they agreed. All nodded assent.

“Glad to have you.” Major Hunt snapped out a salute toward the assembled men. “I’m short handed and can use the extra help. I’ve got someone who can look at that young fellow.” He nodded toward Johnny Bell.

Caleb noticed the boy’s face looked flushed with fever. His uneven breathing hardly moved his chest.

When the soldiers had shared their rations with the militia and the wounded boy attended to, Major Hunt raised his hand and gave the signal to move out. “All right, men. Let’s go. The Red Coats are waiting.”

Another cheer went up from the group, but Caleb shivered. The time had come when he’d now face the real war.

FIVE

       Two day’s travel lay ahead as the troops made their way to Charleston. During the afternoon of the first day, Caleb found himself riding alongside Major Hunt. He had noticed the officer liked to ride among the men and take the opportunity to speak with them.

“A fine steed you have there, Private Fields. How did you come by him?”

“Well, sir, I got separated from my regiment and stopped at a farmhouse for help. The Red Coats came by and arrested me. I escaped and the farmer kindly gave me his horse. He’s called Victory.” Caleb stroked the horse’s mane. He only described the highlights of his adventure, thinking the major wouldn’t care to know one of his new troops had gotten lost through his own act of carelessness.

Silent for a moment, the major asked another question. “How old are you, private?”

“Sixteen, sir, but with a birthday soon to come.”

“That young, eh? At your age the thought of army life never crossed my mind. What about you, lad? What do your future plans include?”

This surprised Caleb. “I don’t know, sir. For now, I want to fight for my country. When the war ends, I’ll have to decide what to do with myself.”

“Choose wisely, Private Fields. Perhaps later you will decide to switch over to the regulars and stay on permanently. We always need good men.” The major touched his fingers to his cap and rode ahead to confer with his second in command.

Alone, Caleb thought of the major’s question. What
did
he want to do when the war ended? Like his father he could farm, or perhaps take up a trade such as shoemaking or he might consider the silversmith’s art. He sighed.
I guess I can do whatever I want since I’m alone in the world now.

By dusk, Major Hunt signaled the men to stop for the day. His regiment sprang into action. Guards surrounded the camp, horses munched their fill of oats, and a roaring campfire soon sent sparks dancing in the night air. Charleston still lay too far away for anyone to detect the glow.

The generous soldiers shared the few rations they had. Caleb ate hungrily when given some hardtack, a bit of cheese and a flask of water. One of the men reached into his pocket and fished out a piece of rock candy.

“Take it, lad. You’re welcome to it.”

“It’s wonderful, sir. My thanks to you.” Caleb crunched the sticky morsel between his teeth. Settling down a few feet from the campfire, he savored the sweet taste, ignoring the juices that dribbled down his chin.

The cool breezes carried the scent of night-blooming jasmine. Men drew close to the fire and passed the time with jokes and stories. Caleb shivered when one of the soldiers recalled the terrible winter of ’78. Silence fell when the soldier repeated the words of Washington. Seeing his men, shoeless in the freezing rain and snow, the General had declared, “You might have tracked the army to Valley Forge by the blood on their feet.”

“Do you mind if I sit down?” The voice startled Caleb from his reverie.

He nodded and moved over. A young man sat beside him. In the light of the fire, Caleb noticed the soldier looked not much older than himself.

“You’re militia, aren’t you?” The inquisitive dark eyes studied Caleb. “How does it happen you’re serving? So young and all?” Before Caleb had a chance to answer, the young man continued. “By the way, I’m Corporal Seth Larkin from near Charleston.”

“At your service, sir. I’m Private Caleb Fields, lately from the Barnwell District, but originally from Northampton County in North Carolina.”

“Well, just two lads from the Carolinas, eh? What’s your story, Private Fields? Don’t you belong in the schoolroom?”

“I signed myself up, sir. I didn’t know patriotism required an age limit,” Caleb replied stiffly.

“I’m sorry, Fields. I’m only nineteen myself but after a year of seeing the sights I’ve witnessed, I feel a hundred. Go on, tell me about yourself.”

Mollified, Caleb began his story. “My family lived in Orangeburg, although my father came from just outside London.”

“What! A loyalist?” Seth interrupted.

“No, never!” Caleb replied, his face flushed with the idea that his new friend thought Pa might have sworn allegiance to the tyrant who occupied the throne of England. “He loved this country, same as me.”

“Good! I’ve spent my time lately fighting the loyalists and I’ve taken a particular dislike to them. Do go on though.”

“There’s really not much to tell. Pa died a year ago. The chest sickness took Ma two months ago. That’s when I joined the militia. I signed on with Captain Johnson, but our company got separated and I got lost. One of the men found me and we all joined up with Major Hunt. I guess that’s about all.”

“You’ve had a bad time of it, haven’t you? You’ll like Major Hunt. He’s seen a lot of action for only twenty-three. He’s a born officer. But we can talk tomorrow. Sunup will come before you know it. We’d best settle down now.”

Caleb stretched out on the damp ground, hoping the heat of the fire might keep him warm during the night. In the stillness, he heard the croak of tree frogs and the chirp of crickets. In the heavens, the stars looked unusually bright. He trembled as a cool breeze swept over him.

“What happened to your bedroll?” Seth’s voice came from the dark.

“I lost it when the company got separated.”

“Well, here you go, Fields. I have an extra blanket. Do take it. I don’t need it.”

“I accept gladly.” Caleb felt the sting of tears at this unexpected kindness.

“Think nothing of it. If I’m not mistaken, you could probably wear the extra shirt I have. Maybe some of the others will have a pair of breeches to lend. It’s hard luck to lose your belongings but we’ll fix you up. Try to sleep now.”

Caleb fell asleep with the thought that a friend might make the enemy less difficult to face.

SIX

       They woke to a pink dawn. Caleb stretched and reached for the water flask. He took a few small sips, mindful of the need to save the precious liquid.

He glanced around and saw Seth Larkin whose eyes remained closed. “Wake up, corporal. We’ll have to move out soon.” Caleb didn’t really relish another day in the saddle.

Seth sat up and yawned. “Private Fields, when I get home, I’m going to sleep for a week.”

The words hit Caleb like a thunderbolt. He wondered where he would call home if his farm had been destroyed.

The rest of the company roused to start the day. Someone built up the dead fire while another put a pot on to boil. Again, the men shared their food with Caleb, treating him like a younger brother. He made a vow that when he caught up with Captain Johnson and collected his back chits, he’d repay those who so willingly gave up some of their meager rations.

The morning flew by. Seth and Caleb rode together, getting acquainted. Caleb had first checked on Johnny Bell. Mr. Brown, a barber who rode with Major Hunt, had some knowledge of medicine. He dug the bullet from Bell’s leg and tied it with strips of cloth he carried in his saddlebag. Bell fainted since they had nothing to lessen the pain. Today, he sat astride his horse, pale but upright.

The morning brought a surprise. Seth Larkin’s hair looked like a red flame in the dawn, while copper colored freckles dotted his nose. Caleb grinned at the image.

Seth laughed when he noted Caleb’s amazed look. “They’re from my mother’s Irish kin. I have a younger sister who looks like our father, with light hair and green eyes. She’s about your age, a bit younger, but you wouldn’t like her.”

“Why?” Caleb questioned. He had no brothers or sisters, but thought anyone who did must feel especially close to them.

“She’s too bossy. All the young men fall in love with her though she’s too much of a child to pay them any mind yet. She’d rather join the army.”

Caleb felt amazed to know a girl could act so brash. The young women he knew at home had downcast eyes and shy manners. At church meetings, they studied their prayer books and during infrequent socials, sat together and stitched samplers under the watchful eyes of the older women.

“Tell me about your family, Seth.”

“My mother is beautiful. She manages our home and plays the spinet. Father practices law and Elizabeth, as I’ve mentioned, does just as she pleases. I call her Bossy Bess. Seth grinned, warming to the task of describing his younger sister.

“You call her
what?”
Caleb laughed, recalling a milk cow of the same name his father had owned.

“Bossy Bess. And when I call her that, she gets furious and chases me. I tell you, I have to do my best to outrun her. King George might do well to withdraw his troops if she ever enlists.”

Caleb knew that despite the frivolous talk, Seth held much affection for his sister.

“Why, at five years of age, she…hold up, Caleb. Look!”

Caleb’s eyes followed where Seth pointed. The quiet of the countryside suddenly shattered as a squawking flock of crows rose from a stand of live oaks. Their raucous noises continued as they flew into the cloudless sky.

“Birds sense danger,” Seth began when a volley of shots rang out. Horses reared and threw their riders.

Major Hunt shouted orders as the men struggled to control their steeds while they searched for the direction of the attack.

In the midst of the confusion another volley exploded into the group. Corporal Longworth fell from his horse. Several of Major Hunt’s men went down. Fire seemed to come from all sides. Turning back to his companion, Caleb gasped. Seth lay slumped across his horse, as a wide red stain soaked his shirt.