The children had been training for this for many months. They all wanted to finish the march to get their Morgan’s Flying Army Medal. No one wanted to be the only one not to finish.
The children were glad to hear their grandmother announce that they would have bathroom breaks along the way. They would also be provided with food. Morgan and his men had neither of these luxuries.
Dr. Edwards, a local historian dressed as Morgan, explained the important landmarks and battle plan as the group marched along. The children laughed and joked as they followed the trail. Ben thought Dr. Edwards looked a lot like he imagined Morgan to look. His voice even sounded much like the general’s.
Dr. Edwards announced, “Our first destination is Grindal Shoals, where Morgan camped for twenty days before the battle.”
“But he didn’t stay there all the time; he alternated between Grindal Shoals and Burr’s Mill at Thicketty Creek to keep them guessing,” Ben spoke up.
Impressed with what Ben had learned, Grammy smiled at him and said, “I can see all that hard work with Jen paid off!”
“Not to mention us!” Sal and Amanda whispered in Ben’s ear from his backpack. He had not seen them crawl in, but somehow he knew they would surely be on this journey.
After viewing the Pacolet River at Grindal Shoals, the marchers continued on their way. The day was crisp and sunny, and everyone seemed to be enjoying the moment. It took them almost five hours to get to Fort Thicketty.
When they arrived, most of the marchers were shocked to see part of the fort still standing. Dr. Edwards explained that the fort had originally been built many years before the Revolutionary War to help guard the settlers from Indian attacks. He went on to say, “Tories took over the fort and used it as headquarters to raid the nearby Patriots.”
“Yes, and most of those Tories were Loyalists from the area,” Ben added.
“Seems like I have an assistant,” Dr. Edwards joked as he patted Ben’s shoulder.
“A know-it-all if you ask me,” Sam muttered under his breath.
“Hearing about the Tory attacks from the fort, Colonel Isaac Shelby and six hundred of his men rode from their camp on the Broad River and surrounded it. When the Tories saw what they were up against, they surrendered without firing a shot,” Dr. Edwards continued.
“Wow, they showed ’em!” Kara cheered.
“Yes, and they captured ninety-three Loyalists and one British soldier. They also captured two hundred badly needed muskets!” Dr. Edwards said.
“And then Colonel Shelby went on to win the Battle of Kings Mountain,” Ben added.
“Well, I can’t believe parts of the fort are still here! That’s amazing!” Tonya commented as she took notes in her journal.
The marchers headed on. They had only about two miles to go before it was time to stop for the day. They reached the campsite farther down the river just as the sun began to set. Most of the marchers headed home or to hotels, but Grammy and the cousins, along with a few other hardy souls, intended to get the full camping experience.
“Where are we sleeping?” Kara asked.
“Right here! The men delivered our tents, sleeping bags and supper. Bless their hearts!” Grammy answered. “Let’s get the fire built. Then we can put up our tents. We’ll have to hustle to get it done before dark.”
“I’ll build the fire, Grammy,” Sam insisted. “I do it all the time in Boy Scouts. Ben, you help Grammy put up the tents, the big one for the girls and the little one for us,” Sam directed, always good at taking charge.
As soon as the fire was crackling and the tents were pitched, Grammy pulled out individual packets of beef, potatoes, carrots and onions wrapped in foil that she called Campfire Stew. She placed the six packets near the edge of the fire to cook.
“Boy, that smells good!” Sam said as he sat down by the fire. The girls and Grammy joined him.
“Let’s sing some colonial campfire songs,” Kara suggested. “I’ll lead ’cause I researched them,” she announced proudly and looked at Grammy for affirmation.
Kara led them in “Three Blind Mice,” “London Bridge,” “Did You Ever See a Lassie,” “Pop Goes the Weasel” and “Yankee Doodle.” She assured them that the Patriots would be singing them as they sat around the fire.
“‘Yankee Doodle’ was written by the British to make fun of the Patriots, but we showed them. We played and sang it when the British surrendered at Yorktown!” Ben stated.
“Why, Ben, you are a wealth of information!” Grammy smiled.
Not to be outdone, Sam bragged, “We learned about it when the guy was teaching us to play the drums!”
“I see,” Grammy answered.
“And how are we going to get our drums tomorrow for the reenactment?” Ben asked.
“Your parents are bringing them. We kept it a secret because we wanted to surprise you, but they’ll all be there!” Grammy smiled. “I think our stew is done. Let’s eat!”
“And afterward we can roast marshmallows and tell ghost stories,” Sam yelled.
Ben scowled. The last thing he wanted to do was think about ghosts while he was near the battlefield in the dark.
“Grammy, this is delicious!” Jen said, and everyone agreed.
“I wouldn’t mind being a soldier if I got to eat like this!” Kara announced.
“Believe me, they did not get food like this. The rations were scarce. Sometimes they had to go without eating. They mostly ate meat that was dried like beef jerky and hardtack, which was bread that was dried out and hard. Farmers would share their vegetables if they were in season. It was a rough time!” Grammy explained.
“You mean they didn’t have marshmallows?” Sam joked.
“Nope, they had vinegar to preserve what food they did have, but no sweets,” Grammy answered.
The children sat around the fire, eating their toasted marshmallows. Sam said, “It’s time for the ghost stories. Does anyone know any good ones?”
Before they could answer, Sam announced, “Some people say the Johnson House in Cheraw is haunted. I know a story about one of the ghosts there.”
Ben froze. He certainly did not want to hear this!
Thankfully, Kara interrupted, “I know about the gray man that lives at Pawley’s Island, and there are tons of ghosts in Charleston!”
“And there’s one that lives in the capitol in Columbia,” Tonya added.
“Ben, I don’t think we have any ghosts in Pacolet. Do you know of any?” Jen asked.
Ben didn’t answer. Jen snapped her fingers at him, trying to get his attention.
“No, I don’t think we have any,” he answered quietly.
“Well, we won’t have ours long because they are going to destroy the old Johnson House tomorrow to build a drugstore,” Sam added.
“What are you talking about? What do you mean destroy?” Ben was suddenly paying attention.
“It’s been the talk of our little town. The relatives who inherited it live in Texas, and they don’t want the house. They have already sold it to a pharmacy chain for big bucks. The new owners said they would demolish the house because it would take less time than just tearing it down. That was part of the agreement.”
“Is your daddy involved?” Grammy asked.
“Yes, the city council had to grant permission. Dad tried every way to stop it because he said there might be valuable artifacts in the house. The relatives said it didn’t matter to them. They didn’t want to come here just to poke around in an old house,” Sam spoke with authority.
“Well, that’s too bad. We are losing all kinds of old structures. That house was built before the Civil War by the Johnson family,” Grammy explained.
The girls were all nodding and about to fall asleep. “It’s been a long day. We’ll have to save the ghost stories for another night. We have to get up early, so brush your teeth and get in your sleeping bags,” Grammy insisted.
“I don’t think the soldiers brushed their teeth,” Sam whispered.
“
I heard that. Yes, they did. They used sticks and pulled the bark down on the end to make brushes,” Grammy answered.
It was cold as the boys and girls hurried to brush and jump in their sleeping bags. The girls and Grammy fell asleep immediately. Sam was almost asleep when Ben whispered, “Sam, are you sure about the Johnson House?”
“Yes,” he answered back sleepily. “Why do you care? You saw there was nothing in there but a bunch of old pictures. Go to sleep.”
“But what if there was?” Ben asked.
“Well, there’s not…unless you saw something and didn’t tell me,” Sam answered.
Ben stayed silent.
“Well, did you?” Sam sat up and looked at his cousin.
“No, of course not,” Ben lied.
Sam lay back down and was snoring in just a few minutes. Ben rolled over in his sleeping bag. He had only one thought on his mind: I can’t let General Daniel Morgan down. I have to save his letter!
He rolled over again, and there sat his two friends staring at him.
“Well, Ben, what are you going to do now?” Sal asked.
“You better think fast!” Amanda warned.
“What can I do? Do you guys have any ideas?” Ben whispered frantically.
“I’m fresh out!” Sal whispered back.
Amanda whispered, “Ben, I think this is what General Morgan meant when he said, ‘I know you read the letter and will come to my aid.’”
“You must tell Grammy May about the letter,” Sal added.
“I can’t tell her! She will be so disappointed in me for taking the letter in the first place and then slipping back there by myself to put it back. Besides, I’ve never broken a blood brother pinky swear!”
Sam turned over and let out a loud snort.
Sal and Amanda quickly scooted down into the sleeping bag.
“False alarm! Snore boy is still sleeping,” Sal laughed.
Agitated, Ben got back to the issue at hand. “Even if I told Grammy, what could she do? We are out here in the middle of nowhere, and the demolition is scheduled for the morning.” As tears welled up in his eyes, he realized his great-grandpa had been right. One lie does lead to another, he thought, and to a whole lot of trouble!
“Ben, you are just like Daniel Morgan. You are scared and you are against some terrible odds, but are you going to fight or just roll over and play dead?” Sal demanded.
“Yeah, are you a man or a mouse?” Amanda added.
“Besides, if you don’t act, Morgan’s spirit may haunt you for the rest of your life!” Sal joked.
“Thanks a lot!” Ben whispered to his little friend.
“C’mon, Ben, you can do this!” Amanda spoke. “Just think if you stop the demolition and get the letter, everyone will praise you as a hero!”
“And if I fail, everyone will think I am a big fat liar ’cause no one else has seen the letter except you guys,” Ben answered.
“And who’s gonna believe a couple of salamanders, right?” Sal queried.
Ben took a moment to think about what was at stake. He realized he was like Morgan and had to make a decision just like he did. Sal and Amanda were working to “spirit him up,” and now he had to believe in himself. He realized that he needed to act quickly before it was too late. Even if he was scared, he needed to be brave and do his patriotic duty and save the letter.
He jumped up before he had time to stop himself and ran to Grammy’s tent. He called into the tent softly, “Grammy, can I talk to you?”
Grammy sat straight up, startled. “What’s wrong, Ben? Are you OK?”
She came out of the tent and saw her grandson, who looked like he had seen a ghost.
“Ben, what’s wrong? Why don’t you sit down and talk to me?” She was feeling very worried. She stirred the coals and threw another log on the fire.
Ben sat down and, through tears, told Grammy the whole story of how he had taken and returned the letter. He told her about the conversation he had had with General Morgan’s ghost and how the spirit had told him that it was up to him to let people know the truth.
Grammy listened in silence.
“I’m really sorry I lied to everyone and took the letter. I pinky swore with Sam that we would never tell anyone about going to the house. He doesn’t know about the letter, so please don’t blame him.”
Grammy sat silently.
“You believe me, don’t you, Grammy?” Ben asked.
Grammy just gazed into the fire and didn’t answer.
Ben hurried on, “And General Morgan told me that when the time was right I should come to his aid and tell the truth he shared with me that night.”
“And what truth is that, Ben?” Grammy asked.
“That we all are scared about stuff and it takes everyone ‘spiriting each other up’ to do the hard stuff,” Ben answered.
Ben wanted to tell Grammy about Sal and Amanda spiriting him up, but he knew he would never see them again if he did. He thought maybe he had said enough for one night.
“It took a lot of courage to tell me this, Ben. I believe you are telling the truth. Sometimes it’s not necessary to tell everything you know to everybody. Let’s just keep the part about Daniel Morgan’s spirit to ourselves, OK?”
“Oh, thanks, Grammy. And I know I deserve punishment, so I will take it like a man. Just like General Morgan took all those lashes on his back.”
“We won’t be giving out lashes, but I will deal with you and your cousin later. Right now I better hustle and call your Uncle Charles in Cheraw to see if he can stop this dreadful demolition. Let’s not wake the others.”
Grammy got on her phone and told a very short but compelling version of Ben’s story to his uncle.
“Ben, your uncle is going to see what he can do. We should know something tomorrow. You go on back to bed. The die is cast. You did what you had to do. The outcome is in the hands of fate just like at the Battle of Cowpens,” Grammy said dramatically.
Ben crawled back into his tent and his sleeping bag. Sal roused up and said, “Wasn’t as bad as you thought, huh?”
Amanda added with a smile, “General Morgan would be pleased.”
Chapter 9
The Speech
The next morning, Ben jumped up as soon as Grammy called. Jen and his cousins teased one another about who was going to flake out and not get the Morgan’s Flying Army Medal, but Ben was lost in his own thoughts.
The rest of the march passed like a blur for Ben. When they stopped for a patriotic church service that morning, he prayed fervently that his uncle could stop the demolition and find the letter.
The troops were tired but happy as they mustered just outside the gate to the battlefield to make their grand entrance. The female reenactors went inside and joined the crowd on the sidelines.
The men took their positions to come marching in. General Morgan was on his horse, and some of the soldiers were on horses behind him. Most of the men carried their muskets and marched in formation.
Ben and Sam joined several other drummer boys at the front of the line. They began to play their marching cadence. General Morgan rode in, and then the other officers. The troops fell in line behind them.
The drummers signaled for them to stop, and the park cannons fired. Then, the infantrymen raised their rifles and fired three rounds in unison. The spectators were awed by the booms and blasts!
The drum cadence started again, and the parade marched up to the platform where the dignitaries were sitting.
National Park Ranger George Greene rose and said, “It is time to award our Morgan’s Flying Army Medals!”
He called the march completers by name. They came to the podium, and the medals were placed around their necks. The cousins beamed with pride as they looked at one another. This would be a day they would never forget.
“Now, it is time for the Daughters of the American Revolution, Daniel Morgan Chapter, to reveal the winner of the speech contest,” Ranger Greene announced. “We are happy to have the chairw
oman of the contest, Ms. Paula White, to make our presentation.”
Ms. White, also dressed in period clothing, rose and came to the microphone. “This year’s winner was exceptional. He took on the persona of Daniel Morgan himself! Our young Patriot is Ben Henderson. Ben, come to the podium and read your speech for us.”
Applause thundered from spectators and marchers.
Ben could not believe it! He just stood there in shock.
“Go on!” two excited voices whispered in unison from under his hat. “We’re with you!”
Ben, still stunned, moved toward the stage and walked up the steps.
Ms. White handed him his speech. He stepped up to the microphone to read:
Dear Citizens of This New Country,
I want to tell you that the Revolutionary War was more than a war of independence. It was a war of dependence. We fought to free ourselves from the oppression of an unjust government, but we did it for a united cause. Our lives and future depended on each other.
This was never more so than at the Battle of Cowpens. Many hail me, Daniel Morgan, as the hero of the battle, but it is not so. The truth is, I was afraid and discouraged. I had problems with the militia and trouble with my fellow officers, and I wanted to give up. I believed my troops were inadequate for the fight. And besides all that, my sciatica was bothering me so badly I could barely stand it!
I wrote these thoughts to my superior officer, General Nathanael Greene, in a letter four days before the battle. Luckily, that letter did not reach General Greene in time for him to know my true feelings.
I said at the end of the letter that I would do as he commanded, and if he still wanted me to proceed, he could depend on me to do wily things to the enemy. Just before I finished the letter, I learned that Tarleton was hot on my trail with 1,200 British. I think that knowing Tarleton was close reignited a spark in my soul.
That spark was fanned into a flame by my men the night before the battle. It has been said that I “spirited up” the men, but the truth is we “spirited up” each other. We depended on each other, and we cheered each other on. That’s why I want you to remember that freedom and spirit is something that we must encourage in each other. It is up to us as Americans to “spirit each other up” no matter what the problem. Your forefathers did it, and you can do it too!
Sal and Amanda Take Morgan's Victory March to the Battle of Cowpens Page 6
