Chapter 35 A Hopeful Mission

Colonel Tavington stood in the clearing just off to the side of the road watching all the activity about him. The cavalry leader squinted up at the sun then heaved a frustrated sigh.

The legion had left the fort a day and a half earlier with Miss Prescott in tow, in order to rendezvous with the Continental Army's Colonel Johnston in hopes of bagging the troublesome militia leader Benjamin Martin.

William crossed his arms and tapped the toe of his boot on the hard ground, irritated at having to make yet another stop. They were to journey to just outside the village of St. George, an easy three day trip with overnight stops. The breaks they had to make along the way, more than he would have usually allowed, had put them behind schedule.

The dragoon commander was now beginning to regret giving the Prescott woman her own mount. Though she could ride, she wasn't as proficient as his experienced cavalrymen, who could expertly ride any terrain and make up time at breakneck speeds if need be. As they rode, the girl lagged behind, unable to keep up with the legion's rate. The colonel knew that it wasn't the horse, for he was one of their finest and more easily to control steeds; it was the rider. Her inability to keep up with the pace coupled with the frequent stops caused them threat of falling even more behind with no hope of making up time.

Tavington walked from his spot and looked around at the men. He had permitted them to remove their riding jackets due to the extreme heat of the day. Some of them were relieving themselves, some milled about talking in the cool shade, while others took sparing drinks from their canteens. The officer became alarmed when he didn't see Miss Prescott in the crowd.

"Christ! I hope she hasn't done something stupid again," he muttered under his breath, fearing that the woman, given her history, had tried to flee yet another time.

As William took a few more steps, he spotted Lieutenant Kidwell, who had been assigned this leg of the journey to guard the girl, near some brush talking with Private Tracy. When he inquired as to the whereabouts of the young woman, he was directed a few feet further to a clump of bushes.

There behind them, he found Melanie on her hands and knees alternately retching dry heaves with productive vomiting. She didn't look at all good to the commander. He assumed that the intense Carolina heat had gotten to the woman.

As she sat back on her knees, she looked pitifully up at the officer. To him, her color still looked bad, and he wasn't too sure that she wasn't going to puke again. He poured a bit of water from his canteen onto his handkerchief and offered it to the girl. She graciously took it.

"We will be leaving within the next ten minutes," he declared firmly.

Melanie said nothing, only acknowledging his instructions with a feeble nod of her head.

William turned away from the sick girl and shook his head. As he stepped away from the bushes, he swore to himself, "Good Lord! First Tarleton taken ill and now her. Is the whole damned fort going to succumb?"

Colonel Tavington then moved back toward the horses when he spotted his second in command emerging from the forest where he had relieved nature. "I'd like a word with you, Major," he called from across the glade.

Bordon quickened his pace and joined his commander near the horses. "Major, we are behind schedule already and I fear if this keeps up, we will be unable to make up the lost time."

"Yes sir."

"If Miss Prescott can't keep our pace, then she'll have to be seated with one of us to ride faster. I understand that this heat has made her sick, but we have to ride quick and must not stop as much. We all have to make sacrifices."

Bordon knew he had to tell his commander the truth now, hoping for a little leniency with the pace and rest breaks, for Melanie and the child's sake. "Sir," the major began tentatively, "I take full responsibility for the slower speed. I told Miss Prescott we could take an easier stride so as not to hurt her. She is with child."

A pang of jealousy hit William, for he still wished Miss Prescott was his. Now not only did his aide-de-camp bed the beautiful girl every night, but she now carried his child. With the birth of the baby, the young woman would now always be tied to Major Bordon, even though he was married to another. Alex Bordon would have Melanie Prescott now forever, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. For William, the memory of the girl moving up and down on his lap, a few fleeting moments of lust when she was angry at and parted from Alexander, was the first—and last—chance he would ever have with the girl. All hope for him was lost now. Again he wished he would have been as bold as his adjutant, not cared about protocol, and taken the woman as his mistress.

Colonel Tavington sucked it up and kept his true feelings hidden. Instead, he made a brash, off color remark. "Well that's no surprise! The two of you copulate like jack rabbits in heat!"

Though his superior's derogatory remark involving his beloved angered him, Alex Bordon held his tongue. He had high hopes for this mission and didn't want to ruin it with an act of insubordination. Instead, he bowed his head to his commander, silently excusing himself.

The major turned and stepped away in search of Melanie. Tavington called after him.

"We depart in ten minutes."

Bordon, turned back to face his commander, walking backwards as he did. "Yes sir," he acknowledged. Alex knew the drill from there.

As Bordon made his way into the midst of the men, he repeated Tavington's order. "Men! We leave in ten minutes sharp. Finish up and prepare to ride out!"

As Alexander trekked into the glade, he spotted the dragoon's third officer, Wentworth. "Captain, see that everyone is ready to go at the Colonel's signal."

"Yes sir!"

The major stopped in his tracks, looking about for Melanie. "Captain? Have you seen Miss Prescott?"

"Sitting over there in the shade," Wentworth answered.

With that, Alexander spotted Melanie reclining back against a tree trunk, resting in the shade. As he moved closer, he saw that her color looked pale and she was obviously exhausted.

The officer knelt down in front of her, covering her hand with his.

"Melanie, there's been a change of plans," he stated softly.

At his words, she opened her eyes and looked quietly up at him. The girl sighed, wondering what was in store for her.

"You're going to ride with me for the remainder of the day," he informed.

"Very well," the girl answered weakly.

He slipped his arms around her and helped her to stand. Melanie slipped her hand into his arm as he escorted the girl back to the horses. Most of the men were there already, putting things back into their packs and securing them. Captain Wentworth stood by, making a last inspection of the area and the horses.

"Lieutenant Kidwell," the major said to the young officer, "Miss Prescott is riding with me the rest of the day. Please take her horse." Alexander climbed onto his beast, then extended his hand to Melanie. The young lieutenant cupped his hands to help the girl up. The junior officer lifted her foot upwards as the ailing girl reached for Bordon's hand and pulled herself up. She mounted backwards, facing Alex.

"Darling," he began, leaning forward to whisper instructions in her ear, "I want you to lean on me and try to rest. Keep your body limp. I'll try to keep Rabelais as steady as possible."

Melanie nodded, slipping her arms about Alex and leaning on him. She wearily laid her head on his shoulder and tried to close her eyes.

Major Bordon slipped his arm around the young woman, holding her body securely against his. He took the reins in his free hand. The second in command watched as Kidwell mounted his steed, then took hold of Melanie's horse to trail behind his.

"Lieutenant," he called, "please bring up the rear."

"Aye sir!" The young officer moved his horse and Miss Prescott's to the very back of the column.

"Hold on tight," Alex told Melanie. "We will be moving at a brisk pace for awhile."

In another moment, the column moved out behind Tavington, who set a quick clip to try to salvage lost time.

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In another day and a half, Tavington's legion finally arrived at the village of St. George. The group made their way on the main road through the sleepy town. The men hardly noticed anymore when residents would scoop their children up and hurriedly take refuge behind the closed doors of their homes.

After leaving the village, they looked for the cowpath that would lead them to where Colonel Johnston and his North Carolina Regiment were. They were to rendezvous at Hamer's cabin, where they made camp. Finding the path, they turned onto the narrow road leading through a dense forest.

Only a few minutes later, the overgrown path with signs of recent trampling through it, emptied into a clearing and crop field. An old cabin, but well kept, stood before the group. As they looked about, there were no tents or soldiers; only signs of a camp hastily packed up and gone. Some smoldering camp fires remained, browned grass squares where tents had once stood, and beaten down grass with horse, boot, and wheel tracks in the dirt. They had been there recently and left in a hurry.

Tavington and Bordon rode their horses forward a bit and caught sight of two men, an older gentleman and a black slave, digging near a hedgerow. The rest stayed back, actively looking about.

"Search the house and buildings," Captain Wentworth ordered, "stay alert." With that, several men dismounted, drew guns, and began to move about the cabin and property, surveying it. Captain Wilkins stayed seated on his horse, which was next to Melanie's, who felt better today and rode on her own horse, actually able to keep the pace with no trouble.

Wilkins saw her straighten, craning her neck to look about and could sense her apprehension. "We'll be fine," he said, wanting her to calm down, "It looks as if the rebels left in a hurry." Miss Prescott nodded her head and sighed wearily.

She tilted her head a little as she spotted Alex and the colonel near the field talking with two men. The girl noticed the men had been digging and spotted a long bundle on the ground next to the upturned dirt.

Near the fence row, Major Bordon and Colonel Tavington drew their guns as they looked down from atop their horses at the two men. The men dropped their digging implements and put up their hands when they heard the pistols cock.

"I don't want any trouble," the older man said. "We will cooperate."

"Your name, sir," asked Bordon.

"I'm Henry Hamer. This here's Elias, my helper." He motioned to his black slave.

"You're the owner of this farm, then," Tavington asked.

"Yes," he confirmed.

With that, Bordon and Tavington dismounted, still covering the man with their weapons. "Where are the North Carolina Continentals?" asked the colonel.

"They left hours ago," Mr. Hamer stated.

"Hmm…We were looking for Colonel Johnston," Bordon said.

The two dragoon leaders watched the farmer and his slave curiously as they looked at each other questioningly. Hamer moved downward slowly and pulled back a flap of the canvas wrapped bundle to reveal a corpse.

"That's him."

William and Alex moved in closer to look at the face of the dead man, although they weren't sure what Colonel Johnston looked like. They could see that the top part of the uniform that was exposed was that of an officer's.

"What happened," Bordon asked, his eyes as round as saucers.

"Early this morning we heard a commotion outside the cabin," Mr. Hamer began in his country drawl. "Elias and I came out to find a few of the soldiers gathered about the colonel. He was on the ground, clutching his chest in great pain. Within a few minutes, he died. He must have had a bad heart. Pity to see a young man go so quickly."

"Oh, Bloody Hell!," Tavington swore in frustration spinning on his heel abruptly away from the grave. After taking all the time to concoct the ruse, set up the deal,and ride three days to meet the man, just to find him dead.

"Were any of his belongings left here?" Bordon queried.

"No, his soldiers took them," the old farmer answered. "Said they were going to deliver his things to his family."

"Search the body," commanded Tavington in obvious irritation. The officer turned back around slowly, watching his adjutant work as the wheels in his own mind spun the situation around it.

The old man and the slave stepped back from the corpse as Bordon moved toward it. The aide-de-camp knelt down and pulled the sides of the makeshift shroud away from the body. He quickly checked over the dead colonel and found nothing but a letter in the inside breast pocket of his jacket.

Alexander stepped back toward his superior with letter in hand. They two looked over it, Bordon pointing out the letter "J" in the broken wax seal on the envelope. It was addressed to Colonel Johnston and was from one of his children. Satisfied that this was enough to identify the man, the major respectfully tucked the letter back into the dead officer's pocket and closed the shroud back up loosely.

"Thank you," Bordon said. "You may go back to your burial."

The farmer and his slave picked up their shovels and resumed the task of burying the continental officer. They glanced up from their task after a moment to see that the redcoat major had moved a few feet away.

"We have men searching the premises," Bordon informed. "It's protocol."

Mr. Hamer nodded his head in obvious understanding and acceptance that there was nothing he could do about it. He only hoped the redcoats wouldn't damage or pillage the place.

"Thank you," the colonel added to Bordon's words, "His Majesty greatly appreciates the cooperation of his subjects." With that, both officers holstered their weapons and took a few steps away from the farmer and his slave.

"I'm sorry sir," Alex apologized in a quiet voice. "This was a wasted trip."

"Yes, this part of it," Tavington began in a low, devious tone, "but maybe we can salvage the rest of it. Do we have the list of Martin's men with us?"

"Yes," the second in command answered. He reached into his jacket pocket, quickly producing the list.

"Higgins! Tracy!," Tavington yelled to the two nearest privates. They rushed to where their commander stood.

In a subdued voice, he gave them their instructions. "Watch those two. I need to confer with Major Bordon, " he nodded his head toward Mr. Hamer and Elias. "If they finish their burial soon, keep them at the grave until I give notice."

"Yes sir," they acknowledged moving toward the farmer and slave who were busy burying the dead officer. They trained their pistols on the two and watched them intently.

Alexander eyed his commander as he walked to his horse where he pulled a map from his saddle bag. Tavington spotted Wilkins, still seated on his horse and close to Miss Prescott on hers, who he'd been assigned to watch.

"Captain Wilkins," Tavington called, "Would you join us, please, on the porch."

"Yes, sir," he answered. "I'll help you down," Wilkins offered to Melanie as he dismounted. The weary girl needed a break from being on horseback for so long. The Captain helped her to the ground then quickly made his way to the cabin's small porch.

Once there, he found Tavington and Bordon standing by a small table, a map of the area spread out upon it. The major thrust a piece of paper into Wilkins' hands. He studied it quickly as Tavington spoke to his two officers in a low voice.

"Captain," began William, "Look at that list and then I'd like you to mark as many of those men's homes on this map as you know."

"Yes sir," Wilkins obeyed without resistance. He suspected something like this may be coming as Tavington and Bordon had asked him only days earlier about Benjamin Martin, his home, children, extended family and their whereabouts. The loyalist officer took the pencil and began marking spots on the map.

"We will hit as many of those homesteads as we can on the way back to the fort," William instructed. "We'll harass the militia's families and flush him out. I'll be damned if this is going to be a wasted trip."

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Author's note regarding the snide remark that Colonel Tavington makes of Major Bordon and Miss Prescott's relationship: Common North American rabbits aren't 'rabbits' at all; they are Hares. When colonists first came to North America in the 1500-1600s, for unknown reasons they dropped the formal use of the name 'Hare' and began calling hares 'rabbits.' (Apparently Rabbits, Hares, and Pikas are all related within the Lagomorpha family. Though appearing similar, the differences between them are in dwellings and physical characteristics, as well as the different characteristics of the offspring at birth)

The term 'jack rabbit' comes from the length of the animal's ears, being long the same as a 'jackass', hence the birth of the nickname by the colonists of 'jackass rabbit', shortened to 'jack rabbit.'

Hares—or rabbits as referred to commonly and in this chapter, have a legendary sexual prowess that's well known. The females of the species can have several litters a year.

Tavington thinks (an obvious exaggeration by his mind) that Alex and Melanie spend all their time jumping into and out of one another's beds!

Thanks to National Geographic for the information!