Decision at Fletcher's Mill

by David Caringer

  Major Willoughby grew increasingly impatient. The impatience turned first to anger, then to apprehension. He needed to know what was going on. They had seen and heard nothing but the birds fluttering through the trees alongside the road for the past three hours. He finally decided that he would have to go forward himself if he was going to learn anything. Shrugging in frustrated resignation, he ordered his escort to dismount and secure the horses deeper in the tree line. They crossed the road into the trees on the other side and moved as quietly as possible in the direction of the mill village.

  Willoughby and his escorts were soon soaked from the underbrush. This did nothing to ease his frustration. They found themselves making several detours to avoid open clearings and impassible obstacles. Willoughby never knew what a miracle it was that they were not captured by the same intense patrols who had surprised and silently killed all three of his infantry scouts. They finally neared the outskirts of the village after the long wet struggle through the trees and brush.

  Major Willoughby found a relatively high point on the edge of the woods from which he could use his glass to make careful observation of both the village and the mill. He settled himself and cleaned the lenses on the glass before slowly starting to scan the area. He could not contain a sudden intake of breath. What he saw was shocking. He was not looking at a placid village scene. No. He found himself fixated for several minutes on the intense preparation of heavily fortified defensive works occupied by what appeared to be a great many well-armed hostile militiamen.

  Willoughby finally saw enough to understand what happened to his scouts. He knew that he and his men were in very grave danger here. He was amazed that the rebels knew nothing yet of the large British force preparing to attack them from only three miles away. He considered waiting for darkness to escape, but even then, he doubted they could avoid capture. It seemed like hours were passing slowly, but only minutes elapsed since they arrived at this spot. They would go back the way they came. He and his men held their breath at one point, and narrowly avoided observation when a party of these rough mountain men passed very close to their hiding place. The militiamen were not carrying muskets captured from the Royal Army. They were clearly armed with long wilderness rifles. All of them had long knives and tomahawks in their belts.

  Major Willoughby carefully observed all of this and more. He knew with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that he was facing a confrontation far more dangerous than he earlier expected. The rebel preparations put him deeply on edge. He saw his enemy at close quarters now. What concerned him most was the look in the enemy militiamen’s eyes. There he recognized the intense animallike gaze of savage wilderness fighting men. He suddenly knew instinctively that he had encountered these men before … on the river road between Fish Dam and this place, Fletcher’s Mill.

  CHAPTER 42

  Lieutenant Billy Morgan and his two sergeants stood breathless for a few seconds as Major Throckmorton neared the house on the back of a horse that seemed too large for him. Billy snapped out of the shock when he heard Sergeant Strickland utter a quiet oath. He turned to Sergeant Duncan and said, “Go in the house and bring Reverend Fletcher back out here.” He then turned to Strickland and said, “You come with me.” He was moving across the porch toward the steps before Strickland could say anything else. Billy didn’t see Strickland roll his eyes in disgust before gritting his teeth and moving out sharply to catch up with his lieutenant. Several other soldiers saw the approaching major and were returning to the front of the house as Billy and Strickland came down the steps.

  Billy noticed Captain Watson approaching from the direction of the village as he and Strickland came to a stop on the wide stone landing just above the roadway waiting for the major to dismount. Throckmorton remained on the horse as he slowly looked around with a peculiar air of superiority. He and his uniform were filthy. A sudden shift in the slight breeze caused Billy and Strickland to recoil at the surprising stench emanating from this strange little man. Throckmorton’s gaze finally settled on Billy waiting quietly with his arms crossed on the landing.

  Major Throckmorton sniffed and leaned slightly forward while continuing to peer sidelong into Billy’s eyes with a malevolent gaze that reminded the young lieutenant of snakes he had killed in the past. The major finally broke the uneasy silence as Captain Watson moved up onto the landing and stopped next to Strickland.

  “Well, I’ve finally caught up with you and your band of filthy cutthroats, you impudent young thief!” Billy opened his mouth in anger as he unfolded his arms, but didn’t have time to speak before Watson stepped in front of him.

  Throckmorton made what could have been a fatal error at that moment. Sitting up abruptly, he snarled, “And who might you be? Another member of this young whelp’s treasonous thieving band of cowards maybe?” A moment of stunned silence prevailed before Captain Watson calmly stepped off the landing to grasp the bridle strap at the side of the horse’s mouth and gently pull the animal forward so that he was standing with his chest against Throckmorton’s left knee. The major recoiled slightly at this invasion of his proximity. Watson suddenly moved with a speed that shocked everyone. He reached up, grabbed Throckmorton by the front of his coat, and yanked the smaller man out of the saddle. The fact that he calmly intoned, “Let me help you down, sir” during this event did nothing to disguise Captain Watson’s clear intent.

  Major Throckmorton found himself looking up into the angry smiling eyes of a very powerful and furious man. Watson spoke so softly that Billy and Sergeant Strickland could barely make out what he said. Even Throckmorton found himself leaning forward slightly to listen. “My name, sir, is Captain Jonathan Watson of Marion’s Division, South Carolina Militia. I would like to know who you are before I demand satisfaction for the unfortunate way you addressed me and my fellow officer just now….”

  Throckmorton realized that he was in great danger. His knees shook. He was lightheaded. He knew he was showing his terror to these men, as the blood drained from his face. Silence reigned several seconds as Watson waited patiently for an answer.

  Throckmorton slowly mastered himself. He shrugged and drew his diminutive body up in sullen, terror-tempered pride. “By all means, Captain, I apologize for my words. I didn’t recognize you in your civilian clothing. My name is Major Throckmorton. I’m a quartermaster with the Southern Continental Army. I’m afraid I mistook you for one of the thieving ruffian cohorts of that young man standing behind you.”

  Captain Watson’s smile widened as he reached out to brush Major Throckmorton’s lapels into place and spoke in a louder voice. “I heartily accept your apology Major, no harm done. You must be mistaken, though, about my young friend here. This is Lieutenant William Morgan, who I know to be a brave and upright young officer. He is also the nephew of General Daniel Morgan as I understand. I’ve never personally met the general, but any nephew of his comes from good stock.” Realization washed over and through Throckmorton. He would not be able to use his rank and bluster to advantage here. He found himself nodding slightly as he murmured, “My mistake Captain, I would have sworn the young man was the young scoundrel I’ve been chasing many long miles over the past several days.” He looked sideways at Billy in seething hatred as he said this. Captain Watson pretended not to notice.

  Ira Fletcher pushed through the slowly growing crowd of onlookers at the side of the road in front of his house. Introductions were made. Captain Watson told one of his men to care for the major’s horse, as Reverend Fletcher graciously invited Major Throckmorton into his home. Ira gave no visible sign of revulsion as he observed Throckmorton’s filthy appearance. He wondered if the awful smell he was assaulted with could possibly be coming from this ugly, unkempt Continental Army officer.

  Throckmorton accepted the invitation with a strange, out-of-place aura of entitlement. The crowd parted, and they began moving up toward the house. Ira leaned down toward the shorter man as they walked and quietly said, “Major, I realize you have been traveling t
hrough rough country for several days. I will have a bath arranged for you while the ladies of my home launder your uniform.” Ira looked around then and realized that the major apparently had no baggage of any kind in his possession. He thought this strange, but dismissed it as he said, “I will have my granddaughter find you a suitable change of clothing to wear in the meantime.” Throckmorton offered his profound thanks.

  Billy and his sergeants were left on the landing with Captain Watson. Captain Robertson walked up after the small crowd dispersed. Watson asked Billy if he could explain what the major was talking about. All five men walked slowly away toward the mill as Billy started from the beginning and recounted his brief and odd history with Major Throckmorton. Both captains listened intently and only asked questions when the story was finished. Sergeants Duncan and Strickland corroborated Billy’s account.

  Captains Watson and Robertson looked at each other for a few moments in stern deliberation, as they stood outside the lower entry to the mill. Billy began to worry that he might actually be in some kind of trouble for assaulting a superior officer. He candidly told the whole strange story to these two men, leaving out none of the details. Captain Watson suddenly broke into peals of laughter as he shook his head and slapped his right knee. He was joined immediately by Robertson and the two sergeants. Watson finally mastered himself and gasped, “That was the funniest thing I’ve heard in months. If I hadn’t personally met that old persimmon just now, I might a thought you made the whole thing up!”

  The next few hours passed quickly. Billy found himself seated that evening at the dining table with Reverend Fletcher, the two militia captains, two other militia lieutenants, and Major Throckmorton. There were three empty chairs at the table. One of them was directly across from him, and another was next to Ira Fletcher. Mona and Elizabeth entered the room from the kitchen carrying platters piled high with steaming roast beef, potatoes, carrots, and fresh bread. The food was placed on the table, and the men stood quietly while the ladies were seated by Ira and Captain Robertson. Mona took the place next to Reverend Fletcher. Billy observed with a glance that Major Throckmorton was now dressed in clean but ill-fitting civilian garb at the opposite end of the table from Reverend Fletcher. The man had apparently bathed. Thankfully, at least his earlier noxious odor was gone.

  Reverend Fletcher stood to pray over the meal and offer a cordial welcome to his dinner guests. There was something about Ira that made it seem perfectly natural for him to be standing at the head of the table as he did this. The prayer was not memorized or stilted. Ira Fletcher sounded like he was speaking with a close superior friend. He thanked God for the food. He asked God to bless those at the table and protect the men outside struggling for their freedom and safety. The prayer ended, and a few of the people seated around the table said “Amen.” Billy couldn’t help notice the silent sullen form of Major Throckmorton throughout the process. Ira seated himself gracefully, and the meal began with the passing of food dishes and moderate conversation.

  It wasn’t long before the discussion moved to the defense of the village and mill. They were soon talking about the future of the captive now securely guarded in the same storeroom he escaped from so many days ago. Throckmorton listened to the conversation quietly before suddenly speaking up with words directed more to Reverend Fletcher than to the militia officers seated at the table. “I will gladly serve as presiding judge in this man’s trial as the highest ranking military member here. This is obviously a military matter, since the man is a captured British officer accused of committing a crime while trying to escape.”

  Billy noticed that there was a firelike glint in Ira Fletcher’s eye belying the calm smile on his face. Ira laid both hands on the table in front of him before responding. “That won’t be necessary, Major. I am the head of civil authority here. The crime this man is accused of was perpetrated against one of the civilians in this village. I will preside over his trial. You are welcome to give evidence in the proceedings, simply watch, or try to defend the man if you must. Thank you for your offer, but we will handle this.” A subdued silence reigned over the table for several seconds before Throckmorton shrugged, raised his hands in mock surrender, and offered a wane smile in reply.

  The meal was nearly concluded when Mona looked up with a startled smile. Elizabeth also looked up, then stood abruptly. Everyone at the table turned to see the bandaged elderly black man standing in the doorway leading to the parlor.

  Ezekiel wore a weak smile. “Excuse me, Ira, Mona, and you other gentlemen … I didn’t mean to intrude on your dinner … I just heard talk, and was curious … maybe even a little hungry…. I’ll just find something in the kitchen pantry….” Mona was now standing. Elizabeth hurried around the table to put her arm around Ezekiel’s waist and steady him. Mona looked sternly at Ira. He also stood and pointed to the remaining empty chair at the table near Throckmorton. “No Zeke, my old friend. You will sit here with us while we prepare a plate for you. There is plenty of food here. There is always plenty at my table for you.”

  Billy didn’t know what to think about the old man. It seemed somehow odd when a few of the dinner guests made excuses for leaving to see to their duties shortly after Ezekiel sat down. Throckmorton was the first to depart. Captain Watson was introduced to Ezekiel by Captain Robertson. Both of these men stayed with their host through the rest of the meal enjoying the now lighter conversation. Billy couldn’t remember a more enjoyable dinner. He couldn’t, for that matter, remember the last time he actually sat at a table in a house to eat. Ezekiel finished his meal with a tired smile and said, “I pray that God will continue to bless this wonderful family with grace and loving kindness. I’m goin’ to wander up to the mill now and check on things there if I can get some help from these young’uns.” He nodded toward Elizabeth and Billy as he said this.

  Billy and Elizabeth soon found themselves walking slowly toward the mill with Ezekiel between them. Billy didn’t mind. There were other things to do, but any excuse to spend time with Elizabeth was a gift of growing importance to him. Ezekiel asked questions about what happened since he was knocked out days ago. Elizabeth answered those. Billy tried to explain his own presence and the obvious military preparations going on around them. They reached the mill, and Ezekiel did a cursory inspection of the premises before noticing the two armed guards standing outside the closed storeroom door. Billy was looking for a way to speak quietly with Elizabeth when he saw Ezekiel moving toward the storeroom and being confronted by one of the guards. He stepped away from the young lady to intervene with the guard on the old man’s behalf.

  The guard was one of his own men, none other than John Red. The other man was Private Plunkett. He knew instantly that Strickland or Duncan were involved in assigning these two men to this duty. He knew they would be relieved by other trusted members of Billy’s company. The sergeants sensed that their young lieutenant had other important matters to tend to. Elizabeth was standing patiently near the mill entry. Billy looked at her now with a slightly guilty feeling regarding his military duties. That passed immediately. He found himself introducing Ezekiel to Red and Plunkett. Red helped the old man open the door while Plunkett fetched a lantern down from its wall hanger.

  Billy knew Ezekiel was curious about the condition of the stores in the room, but he didn’t realize that Ezekiel knew so much about the prisoner. Billy was earlier told that this was the British officer responsible for the injuries suffered by Ezekiel and other members of the village. He was aware that the prisoner was accused of killing one of the mill workers when he escaped days ago. Plunkett led the way into the storeroom with the lantern followed by Ezekiel and Billy. Red stayed out in the corridor. Elizabeth curiously walked over to the storeroom door to hear what was said inside. Billy expected Ezekiel to harshly lash out at the cowering man they found huddled in the corner of the room. The old man took the lantern from Private Plunkett and told him he could leave. Plunkett gave a quick curious look to his lieutenant, and Billy nodded.


  Billy was shocked when Ezekiel sat the lantern on a shelf at the side of the storeroom and stepped over to gently help the prisoner, Captain Crispin, up from the floor with quiet soothing words. Crispin, though clearly frightened, allowed himself to be moved to where he was seated on a crate near the middle of the room. Billy stepped a little closer as Ezekiel seated himself on another crate directly in front of the prisoner. Billy was even more shocked when he heard this injured old man tell his former assailant that it didn’t matter where he had been or what he had done, God loved him. Ezekiel explained that Jesus died to pay the penalty for our sin, and rose again three days later to rule as the Rightful King. He explained that even Crispin could live forever if he surrendered what was left of his life to Jesus and trusted him for redemption. Billy, Elizabeth, and the two guards were more astounded than simply shocked. They heard Crispin agree and begin to pray with Ezekiel.

  Ezekiel leaned closer to the weeping form of Captain Reginald Crispin and said, “Welcome to the family of God, brother. If they hang you tomorrow, which seems likely, you will be with King Jesus the moment you leave this life.” Ezekiel hugged Crispin closely until he stopped sobbing. When Crispin raised his head, he wore a bright smile. Billy wondered that a man could smile when he believed this was his last night on earth.

  Two distant explosions sounded outside at that moment. These were followed by two loud crashes against the stone wall of the mill above them. Sudden frantic commotion and a growing chorus of shouts could be heard from outside the mill. Billy swallowed deeply. He ordered Plunket to stay here with Elizabeth, Ezekiel, and the prisoner. He motioned Red to follow him outside. The expected British assault on Fletcher’s Mill had apparently started.

  CHAPTER 43

  Major Sir Thomas Willoughby was no fool. He had seen his enemy, and he was deeply concerned. He understood that his scouts must have been captured. It wouldn’t be long before the rebels knew he was here with a large force. It was perfectly clear that the place was a rebel stronghold, whether Reverend Fletcher was an agreeable participant or an unfortunate captive. Willoughby had no choice. He must attack. He must do it very soon with a good plan to overwhelm and capture or destroy everything here. He would not repeat the mistakes made by that pompous buffoon Tarleton. There was no way he would feed his men into this attack piecemeal as Tarleton did at Cowpens.