Benstown

Written By: Commander Cody CC-2224

CHAPTER 6

The Lad They Call Ben

During the early evening Mr. Merriman and the rest of the group decided to refresh themselves at one of Charleston's local taverns, which was situated at least three blocks away from the public square. The interior of the tavern was fairly rugged and its furnishings were for the most part simple and plain. The tavern was jovially noisy, with a lot of loud, course, gruff laughter emanating across the room with candle-light surroundings, as well as a lot of fife-and-drum music. Aside from menfolk, there were womenfolk, and children present, as well as a fair handful of black freemen and their kin. Each and everyone of them were enjoying themselves. For the girls especially, it was a sentimental sight to behold.

The group was situated at a long, tilt-top table on two legs, at a distance between very left side corner of the tavern and the middle. Mr. Merriman was seated at the tables width which faced the back wall of the tavern. Ben and Felicity were seated on the table's length which faced the very left wall, and Elizabeth and Phillip were seated at the other side of table's length. Both Ben and Phillip were lined together on both sides, and so were Felicity and Elizabeth. In that manner the boys could have their own private conversations, and the girls could have theirs.

But that didn't seem to be the case with those people. The two engaged couples traded conversations back and forth. Most of the topics discussed across the table were of general interest for every member of the group.

"There just…can't be any reason why there's a portrait of me stuck at the town hall," said Ben, his mind racing to know why that was the case. "I mean, I was thieving around here and crossing the town governor. Granted, with General Washington's permission, of course. We were tasked secretly to do it." He took a swig of the apple cider in his pewter mug.

Mr. Merriman slapped his mug of apple cider on the table. "'Tis rather hard to believe that General Washington would authorize something like that. It just seems…out of character for him to do so, given how everyone praises and admires the multiplicity of his civic virtues worthy of being followed."

"Well, he needed money to fund the army, that's for sure," replied Ben. "Many of my comrades in the 5th Regiment often talked about how the Continental army was short on funds, and how payment was rather difficult for the poor chaps to come by. And that was especially true even with the officers and staff members under his command. In fact, I even heard of one officer who left the army simply because his pay wasn't enough to support his family during his long absences away from them. I mean literally, his family would have starved if he didn't bring home the bacon."

"That must be terrible," remarked Elizabeth.

"No doubt," put in Phillip as tactfully as he could.

"Was your pay affected, too?" asked Felicity.

"Indeed it was," replied Ben.

"And that sort of justified you to steal a hefty amount of money from the governor himself?"

"If I were to be doing that on my own accord, with no legitimate excuse to back me up, my honor and reputation would not only be tarnished, but my neck would be at risk," said Ben. "Which was why I was rather hesitant at first to discuss this matter during the several days that occurred after my recuperation at home."

"Sounds pretty reasonable," remarked Phillip. "That kind of talk can pretty much get a man hanged unless he can prove that such a heist was authorized by legitimate authority, such as his government or by his commanding officer."

Ben noticed a ten-year-old boy staring at him as if he was a god. "W-What are you doing here?" he asked the boy, trying not to sound too unfriendly with him.

The boy's blue-green eyes were in wide astonishment.

"U-Unless you want something, you're disturbing our moment," said Ben. "If there's nothing else of value to ask of, please go."

The boy immediately withdrew from the scene. Ben turned back his face to his sweetheart and the rest of the acquaintances.

"Of course the heist proved to be a miserable failure when British dragoons and regulars chased after the carriage that was toting the money," said Ben, in an almost despondent tone of voice. "I don't have any idea where it went now. Perhaps it might have gone to the hands of some random folk around here, possibly to the British forces that arrived to the scene of the crime. I didn't care about the money anymore. All I wanted was to just get the hell out of the town. Because you know what happens when the British capture you as a prisoner-of-war. And mind you, their treatment is not that cordial, given that we were rebels fighting against the Crown."

"Sounds like an interesting story," said Phillip. "Perhaps if you feel up to it you might divulge a little more about this…heist you were involved in."

"When he feels comfortable with doing it," said Felicity. "I would very much hate to see my beloved Ben's reputation tarnished because of this…deed."

In a few seconds a rather shabby-looking tavern girl the same age as Felicity and Elizabeth approached the table.

"You folks would like me to take your bowls?" she asked in an accent that closely resembled a Cockney English girl.

"I'm done," said Felicity. She just had her favorite beef stew. If they were having any meals, they were done as well. After cordial tokens of gratitude from the group, the tavern girl gathered up whatever bowls and plates there were on a pewter tray and scurried off.

As Mr. Merriman, Ben, Phillip, and the girls continued savoring their apple cider, they heard a jaunty, middle-aged man in rustic colonial clothes, shoes, and hat, striking up a tune on his guitar while seated on a fairly long, rectangular table. On his right side were a jaunty Negro freeman with a half-rugged and soiled banjo, which was still in adequate performing condition, and a rather young-looking war veteran his last teenage year playing a fife. On the man's left side were two jovial fiddlers and a drummer boy. While striking up a single tune on his guitar, the troubadour sang out, "Beeeeeeeeeen, the lad they call Beeeeeeeeeen!"

The very sound of his name was enough to wake Ben up. He immediately sat up in his bench area like a bolt of lightning, with his brown eyes widened like a deer's. He turned his head around.

The troubadour led in the chorus for what could be heard as a ballad of Benjamin Davidson, sung in the range of chords in the C-Minor and E-Major scale.

He stole from the rich,

And he gave to the poor,

And he walked up to the man,

And he gave him what-for,

Our love for him now,

Ain't hard to explain…

The suddenly the crowd joined in the chorus of the last two lines of the refrain.

THE HERO OF CHARLESTON,

THE LAD THEY CALL BEN…

Ben was very much flustered by the sound of the verses; more like the verses themselves. The troubadour kept on singing without an incident as the crowd gave way to his lead.

Now Ben saw the servants' backs breaking;

He heard and saw the servants' laments.

And he saw the governor taking

Every shilling and leaving five pence.

And so he said, "You can't do this to my people!"

"You can't just crush them under your heel!"

Ben doffed on his hat, and in twelve seconds flat,

Stole everything Guv Hathaway had to steal.

The crowd joined in the chorus of the refrain. Elizabeth leaned forward to Felicity. "What's all this?" she asked rather anxiously.

Felicity looked around the room. She took notice of Ben, who, aside from feeling anxious about his name being hailed amongst the crowd, was feeling a fascinated enjoyment. She faced her friend. "'Tis my beloved Ben being hailed as the town hero," she said, grinning impishly.

Elizabeth gasped, both hands on her mouth. "Oh, Lissie!" she exclaimed excitedly. She gracefully placed her hands on the table together. "You are so lucky; I almost envy you!"

"Oh, really, Elizabeth," replied Felicity. "'Tis my sweet, sensible little sister Nan who would do most of the envying."

The girls, as well as Mr. Merriman, Ben, and Phillip, continued to watch the upbeat performance. By that point the troubadour was now starting on his second verse.

Now here is what separates heroes

From common colonials like you and I.

The lad they call Ben, he turned around his carriage

And let that money hit dirt.

He dropped it onto the streets,

He dropped it onto our yards,

The lad they call Ben took away our pain

And headed off to the woods.

The troubadour was in the midst of singing the entire verse and the crowd erupted again into a chorus when singing the refrain for a second time, when Phillip made a remark.

"It doesn't exactly rhyme," he said.

Suddenly a thought dawned on Ben. "Oh, damn!" he exclaimed in a whisper. "So that's where the money went! A man named Herring and I were secretly tasked with filching money from the governor's town last night!"

"Why?" asked Felicity, dismayed.

"I have never heard of somebody named Herring," put in Elizabeth. "Who is he?"

"John Herring. One of my comrades seven years older than I am involved in the task. I really took a dislike for him; for the way he treated me. He was a brat of an officer in the 5th Regiment, and a bully, too. He never failed to insult my honor and the honor of my sweetheart Lissie, and was even responsible for putting up my death notice just to distress her." During the war, Ben knew of this offensive prank only after he received a letter from Felicity, which was made after he wrote a letter to her. Felicity included a copy of the tavern's death notices in her letter as well. "Of course, the reason why he acted that way was because no girl would ever allow themselves to be courted by him. I was really tempted to inform my superior officer about this, but he often threatened to do terrible things not only to me, but to the rest of my compatriots. So I was pretty much forced to put up with this…bullying, much to my agony."

"That's awful," remarked Elizabeth sympathetically. "Especially the very idea of putting up Ben's name in the tavern lists of those who died just to cause you and your family and friends great distress. 'Tis shameful."

"Indeed it is," said Felicity. "If he were here I would really give him a good punch in the face."

"Lissie!" exclaimed Elizabeth disapprovingly.

Felicity ignored her.

"How did he know about me?" inquired Felicity.

"He bullied a man whom I talked about his sweetheart with."

"So what happened next?" asked Elizabeth almost excitedly.

"Well," began Ben. "Herring and I managed to grab all that money. Twenty-five thousand pounds, at best."

Elizabeth gasped. "Twenty-five thousand pounds?" she asked, shocked.

Felicity was just as astonished as her best friend. "That's…that's worth a fortune!" she exclaimed.

"It is," said Mr. Merriman.

Ben continued on. We were transporting this hefty sum of money to General Washington so he could make use of it to fund the army. However we ran into quite a bit of a spot in the poorer part of the town. British dragoons were bearing down on us. They disabled the carriage, and mind you, Herring was inside it. Fortunately I managed to escape and thus, regrettably, abandon the treasure as a result. This meant I left Herring behind."

"That was rather dishonorable of you," said Phillip.

Ben made a face at him. "Wait till you encounter him face to face," warned Ben. "Then you'll understand what I mean. If he was going to treat me abominably, why should have I risked my life to save his skin?"

Felicity shrugged a little. "I would, too, if I were you, Ben," she said understandingly.

Ben nodded at Felicity, as if to express gratitude to his sweetheart for being understanding with him. He took another swig of his cider before he put the mug down on the table and bowed his head in disappointment. "Twenty-five thousand pounds!" he said in a rather upset manner. "And I just dropped it right smack in the middle of a slum area in Charleston! And that was supposed to be for Washington's army!"

Phillip looked at Ben in a sort of understanding way. "Not even twenty-five thousand pounds would have been worth spending possibly several years as a prisoner-of-war," he said. "Only God knows what the British did to the prisoners belonging to their side. 'Tis most appalling."

By the time the conversation was finished the last chord was struck by the troubadour on his guitar. The crowd erupted into screaming whoops and cheers as they gratefully applauded the performance. Both Felicity and Elizabeth were amused by the performance as well, as well as Mr. Merriman and the rest of the boys.

A/N: Charleston's "Ballad of Benjamin Davidson" is sung to tune of "The Ballad of Jayne Cobb" from the Firefly TV Series episode Jaynestown. It's where Ben's version of the Ballad was directly derived from, and the lyrics of the song actually come from the original Ballad. I took the lyrics and revised them a bit to culminate with Benjamin Davidson. The format and words are similar, but Charleston's version of the Ballad is formatted to culminate Ben's heroic deeds in Charleston. (Charleston is a reference to Charleston, South Carolina, not a reference to a person.) I do not own the song in its entirety, or the lyrics themselves.