Chapter 67 Encamped at Yorktown

October 1, 1781……………….

His Majesty's army had taken over the Virginia and Chesapeake Bay peninsula town of Yorktown in September. They encamped there making the quiet village their temporary home. The men were well settled into camp life by now, enjoying the beautiful high views over the York River, a wide body of water, from the bluff on which the town stood. They also were relieved to finally have exchanged the stifling Carolina heat for cool breezes off the river and bay.

Lieutenant Colonel Tarleton had just received word that his legion would cross the river tomorrow with orders to hold Gloucester Point on the opposite side of the river. Tonight, Tarleton and two of his commanders from the cavalry, Major Wilkins and Captain Wentworth, were enjoying a card game with General Tavington. This would be Will's last game with them for awhile, and he was making the most of the company.

"What intelligence do you hear about our syphilis infected militia colonel," Tavington asked Jim Wilkins.

"Benjamin Martin," he answered with a sigh and nod of his head, "Word is his wife had their child—a girl. She showed no signs of the disease."

Jim studied his hand of cards for the next play. Choosing a card, he put it on the table and continued speaking. "His wife sold his property, Freshwater Plantation, which I heard that you burnt to the ground, to my younger sister and her husband. The new Mrs. Martin told my sister that they didn't need two country plantations and a mansion in Charles Towne."

Wilkins picked a card up and arranged it within the hand he held. "The Martins are going to make their home on her land that she inherited from John Selton, her late husband. They are still working on rebuilding that fine plantation house of her that we burned last year."

"How is the ghost," William queried, "His actions?"

"My source tells me he is between lucidity and insanity," replied Wilkins. "His men have figured out what is wrong with him, and when he gives them crazy orders, they regularly disobey them to keep order and fighting—almost as if they are running the outfit themselves without an officer in charge. Word is that he doesn't usually remember the orders he gives them anyway."

Jim took a drink of his wine, then went on. "Colonel Burwell offered him an honorable discharge and urged him to take it, but Martin refused. Burwell didn't push the matter because he is short on men and needs the crazy son of a bitch in there fighting because he will take the damned fool risks that the others wouldn't touch!"

Banastre entered the conversation. "Tav, so what do you think of Colonel Burwell?" he interjected the question while busily looking at his cards. "He did ra—"

Tarleton didn't even realize what he was saying—it just flowed out of his mouth. The instant he thought about it, he stopped himself short and regretted bringing it up.

"Rape my wife?" William asked, finishing Ban's interrupted spontaneous words. "It was in retaliation for when all of us had our fun in Charles Towne with his widow sister. He is a traitor and a rebel swine like the rest of them."

The other three men suddenly became quiet, feeling awkward that the subject had been brought up. Tavington played his next card and broke the silence. "How do I feel about Burwell's rape of Melanie? I felt badly when I found out, that she was a casualty of our actions, and there was nothing that we could do about it."

General Tavington took a sip of wine, then went on. "She wasn't my wife at the time, she was Bordon's mistress. And Alex was livid over the fact that the yankee colonel had violated his woman. Bordon would have torn the man apart and gotten himself killed in the process if I hadn't stopped him, making me lose a damned fine adjutant!"

"Ah….he died anyway at the hand of a rebel," Wentworth chimed in with a mournful tone.

"Yes, God rest his soul," Tavington said.

With that, Captain Wentworth disappeared from the tent for a moment. He reappeared bearing some ale for the men. As the dark brown liquid was poured about, the conversation continued.

"Ban, what's this I hear about you riding your horse into someone's mansion?" he asked.

"Guilty as charged," Tarleton answered. "It can be no worse than you riding your steed into the Lord's house!"

"That church in Pembroke held a group of traitorous rebels," he defended in mock jest.

"And so were these people," replied Banastre.

"Have you no regard for personal property?" Tavington jokingly asked.

"And how many homes have you burnt?" replied Tarleton sarcastically.

"I've lost count," Will stated, looking at his cards.

"So General, your views have changed now that you are one of those wealthy plantation owners living in one of those beautiful mansions, hmmm?" Ban mused.

"Just tell me about your little romp in the house," Tavington urged.

"It was indeed a very large, beautiful home on the James River outside of Williamsburg," began Banastre. " I think it the finest house I've seen so far. Carter's Grove, I believe it was called."

"The owner was a rebel," Ban continued. "I asked kindly for them to do their duty and house His Majesty's soldiers for the evening. They refused. I was tired and not in the mood to deal with them, so we confined them to the study of their house and made ourselves at home."

The ginger haired cavalry commander took a drink of his ale, then went on. "I sent a couple of the men toward town to reconnoiter while the other men slept. I took the pretty little servant from the study, telling the family that I needed to take her outside for questioning."

A sly smile crossed Ban's face as his eyes lit up mischievously. "I did interrogate her—very deeply—with my yard!"

Huge hoots of laughter went up from the quartet of officers. Colonel Tarleton went on recounting the events of that evening. "I found out the she was a secret loyalist. Needless to say, she and I were finishing up our fun under a vast oak tree when my two ensigns rode in frantically, shouting that rebels were headed in our direction."

The leader of the legion looked at the cards played on the table, then looked at his hand. He continued his story after choosing his card and laying it down. "With little time, I left the servant, mounted my horse in haste and rode into the house. I didn't have time to dismount again and get the men, so I rode my horse up the stairway and whacked the banister a few times to make enough noise to rouse the men awake. The men followed me out of the house with Private Smithers informing me that I'd left some nasty chop marks in the wooden stair rail."

"The owner couldn't have been too happy about that souvenir," Tavington quipped.

"No. He chased us down the lane yelling something at us," Ban laughed. "We were too busy hoofing it out of there to care!"

Major Wilkins scooped up the cards and shuffled them. He dealt the cards as General Tavington changed the subject of conversation. "Who was that pretty little bird I saw you with last night?" he asked Banastre.

"Oh, a prisoner."

William raised his eyebrows. "She looked very young."

"She was—fifteen," he answered. "The girl was a barmaid in the ordinary we raided over in Stockdale. She recognized that we were dragoons and asked if I was Bloody Ban."

The youthful colonel took a swig of his ale. "She then begged me to take her prisoner. I refused and told her to run home. She chased us when we left, pleading with me to go with us."

"She started yelling insults," Ban continued. He stood at the table and feigned being the girl. "King George is a woman! Lord Cornwallis wears dresses! Trying to get us to arrest her. She was making a scene, rousing more townspeople and I was afraid we'd soon be outnumbered."

Banastre checked his cards, chose one and played it. "I had a headache as it was and her caterwauling got on my nerves very quickly. I soon realized that the only way to shut her up was to take her prisoner. My intention was to let her go, send her back home when we reached camp."

Tarleton took a drink of his ale, and continued. "I soon found out her intentions when I unbound her. She slid her hands into my breeches saying that she wanted to be deflowered by the infamous Banastre Tarleton."

Wentworth smiled impishly. "So what did you do to your innocent little guest?"

"I mounted her, spoilt her, then she rode me like a stallion!" exclaimed Ban. "Suffice it to say that she seemed happy, albeit a bit sore, when she left for home this morning."

"Ah, the last night here in Yorktown for the three of you tonight," William said to his fellow officers. "I don't have to ask how Colonel Tarleton will be spending his night. But what of you, young Captain Wentworth? How are you spending your last night here?"

"With General O'Hara's mistress," he simply replied, unfazed.

The three other officers stopped looking at their cards and looked at the captain, stunned and wide eyed. He smiled roguishly at the others.

"She approached me," confessed Wentworth. "So I set up an assignation with her for tonight."

"What happened to the Quartermaster's wife?" William asked. It had been a little kept secret in the encampment that up until a couple of weeks ago, Wentworth had been enjoying time in the bed of the supply officer's wife, a woman older than the captain, and very beautiful.

Banastre laughed. "The quartermaster caught the two of them together," he proclaimed. "Seems he didn't like our Wentworth rogering his wife regularly, so he sent her home to Boston."

"Yes," the young captain said with a sigh. "It's too bad because she was an appreciative piece of ass."

"Yes and ever since that, he refuses to fill any supply requisitions from me or Wenty here," Tarleton stated. "Wentworth here for the obvious reasons, and me because he thinks I am a libertine."

"You are a libertine!" Wilkins laughed.

"Yes, but that's no reason to deny the dragoon commander supplies," Tarleton smirked.

"He will only accept orders from myself or Lieutenant Kidwell," Wilkins confirmed to Tavington.

"Yes," Wentworth agreed. "But what the quartermaster doesn't know is that Kidwell fucked the man's younger sister, who is his ward. Broke her cherry, he did."

"And afterwards," Tarleton interjected, "Young Kidwell was quoted as saying, 'I could get used to this!' Unfortunately for the lieutenant, the sister was sent home with the supply officer's wife!"

The men were nearly done with their cards when three women entered the tent and walked to Colonel Tarleton. They immediately began to paw on the man.

"Colonel, we're tired of waiting!" one of the tarts cried.

"Yes, hurry up!" the second one urged.

"You promised!" the third girl reminded.

"I'll be right there, ladies," he pacified. "We're just about finished."

The men threw in the cards as the three harlots left the tent.

"Good Lord, Colonel Tarleton, are you going to use up every single woman in this camp before the rest of us get to them?" exclaimed Captain Wentworth.

"No, these girls are from the village," Banastre explained.

"Christ, Ban!," William swore. "I'll wager that there are a dozen red haired by blows toddling about the colonies!"

"Hear hear!" Wilkins cried with a grin.

Banastre stood to leave, paying out the money he'd lost to the others. "Gentleman, I have butchered more men and lain with more women than any other soldier in the King's army!"

"I'd say that's a fair assessment," Tavington declared with a lopsided smile.

The card party broke up and as the men moved to leave the tent, Banastre was the first to the door. He turned and looked back at his fellow officers. "Tav—I'll see you soon hopefully. It's been an honor commanding beside you." Then he turned to the other two officers. "Wenty, Wilky, I'll see you two gents early in the morning!"

~/~

A few minutes later, James Wilkins and William Tavington were walking along the path between tents, meandering toward their respective quarters. As they moved along, a raven haired beauty stepped out of the shadows and moved stalked straight to the tall Major Wilkins.

"Would you like some company this evening?" she asked demurely.

"No thank you," he deferred, thinking of Bridget. "I've got work to get done."

"Perhaps just a few moments," she urged, "maybe to take your mind off of more serious matters?"

The girl put her hands on Jim's chest, looking seductively up at him. Wilkins could tell she didn't want to be refused.

A storm brewed within him. He missed Bridget terribly and hadn't seen her in two and a half months. The man had also been faithful to her, but fought with his own manly urges which needed to be satisfied.

Tavington could tell that his fellow officer and neighbor from South Carolina was torn. William decided to help Wilkins get rid of the woman, or allow her into his bed.

"Ah, go ahead, Wilkins," he urged. "The men here don't care. No one's going to tell your wife."

Wilkins looked questioningly at his friend, as if he needed permission. William went on. "Be assured that I won't tell Melanie," he promised in a sincere, yet tired voice. "Bridget will not find out."

Wilkins relented. The trollop smiled up at him and took his hand. "Good evening, General," Jim said as the strumpet began to pull him away.

"Yes, good night," Will called back. He smiled, then laughed to himself, still in disbelief that the gentleman Wilkins had consented to go with a whore. After a few steps, he stopped stock still in his tracks. He forgot to tell Jim that he'd received a letter from home, and wanted to share with him part of Melanie's words. Both of the men routinely shared news from home with each other, feeling good just to hear something from their homesteads.

The officer doubled back quickly, knowing he needed to find his friend tonight because he would be gone in the morning. As he turned the corner near a small building where the doxy had confronted the men, he stopped almost as quickly. He saw Jim Wilkins, back against the wall of the building, head back and eyes closed. The whore was on her knees in front of the officer, already swallowing the major's manhood.

"Whew! That was fast," Tavington muttered under his breath to himself. He stepped back around the corner of the barn and left the couple to their pleasure.

As Will walked along toward his tent, a pretty young blonde ran out from another path between the tents and bumped right into the officer.

"Oh, I'm sorry sir," she said. "I should be more careful."

"It's quite alright, Miss-?" he replied, wanting the girl's name.

"Oh, Sarah," she answered, still flustered. She did not have a British accent, so he knew she was a colonial woman. "Just Sarah."

The girl curtsied. "Good night General."

He nodded his head in turn, then walked on. After a few steps, he turned on his heel and went back to find the woman strolling away slowly.

"Uh…Miss Sarah…," he called to her.

The pretty girl looked back at him.

Tavington asked, "Are you free this evening?"

~/~

"Oh…Oh General!" Sarah cooed as William slammed his hardness into her body from behind. The man was frankly admiring the view of her curvy hips and bottom from behind her, the girl on her hand and knees receiving him.

Tavington gripped her hips tightly to steady her as he continued pounding away. After a few more minutes of him plumbing away inside her, she began purring with pleasure.

"You're going to make me come, General," she whimpered breathily.

"Do try to control yourself, my dear," Will urged.

"I can't! Your cock is so large," she cooed in clear pleasure.

William chuckled as he continued ramming himself into the whore. In only a few more strokes, she was crying out as she came. Tavington held himself back, preferring to delay his orgasm in favor of another position.

After that, Will reclined on his back on his cot. He took Sarah's hand. "Straddle me," he requested.

The girl climbed across the supine officer with his hand helping to steady her. She positioned herself, then sank down slowly on his still hard erection. She let out a sigh and closed her eyes as his manhood filled her completely.

After she'd mounted him and felt the initial pleasure of having him inside her again, she stayed still, relishing the feeling. Tavington gazed up at the blonde, wavy haired whore, only now realizing her features were very similar to Melanie's.

He took a deep breath, then let it out. "I know your name is Sarah, but for a few moments, I'm going to call you 'Melanie'."

"Who's that, sir," she asked quietly, cautiously.

"My wife."

"Obviously," she answered softly, knowing inside that was how he would answer. "You must miss her."

William sighed and looked up at the white canvas ceiling of the tent. "Very much so," he answered, as if admitting a secret.

The general closed his eyes as the trollop began to ride him. As she did, in his mind he pictured Melanie's curvy body on top of his, moving atop him. He imagined running his hands up and down her body, feeling the softness of it. Will could hear in his mind, his wife moaning in pleasure as she came. Just recalling the feel of her body, her whimpers of satisfaction, her head thrown back in orgasm, was too much for Tavington. He could no longer hold himself back.

"Oh…..Melanie!...Oh, darling," he cried aloud as he came.

Sarah came again, as well, watching the officer as he did, his eyes closed and knowing he was longing for his wife. She collapsed on top of him, her body close to his, feeling his muscular chest as it rose and fell with each breath.

After a few moments, Tavington rolled her off of him and onto the cot, where she curled up under the covers. William got up from the bed and slipped his pants on, then walked to his desk where he sat down. He pulled the letter he'd received from Melanie today and read it yet again.

22nd September 1781

Dear Will,

I just received a letter from you from August. How I wish the post moved more quickly. I long to hear some kind of word from you every day for I miss you and worry for you so.

You should see the grapes! I believe they are the largest size we have had in years, and more than we have ever had. The Wilkins' winery steward has already had enough to make a test batch of wine. He was very pleased with it. I sampled it at the Wilkins' the other evening and it was so very sweet.

Bridget's belly continues to grow. She is convinced, as she says Jim is, that the baby is a boy. I can't believe that she is only six weeks away from giving birth. I will be with her at the birth and have promised to help attend her and the baby when she is lying in. What a miracle babies are. Oh, William, life if full of miracles.

Darling, so much happens here at home, just so much to tell you about. I can't seem to say everything I want to say in our letters. I just…I wish you were here. I miss you so much!

William, a lot has happened and I have done some thinking since you have left. I realize that I can't blame you forever for Pembroke, the horse falling, my miscarriage. I have forgiven you. I know…if you were here, you would remind me of what I always say, that my brother was a Priest and would want me to forgive. Yes, William, that is part of it. But, I forgive you because I want to. I have found peace. And I am happy. There is so much in life for me to be happy about!

Darling I miss you so much. Please be careful. Please come home to me.

Truly,Deeply,

Your Melanie

Will smiled as he folded the letter. He sat back in the chair, thinking about Melanie's letter. He recalled how strained things had been with them for days before he'd left. Then he remembered how sweet—and bittersweet—things had been between them on the morning he departed. Tavington was relieved and happy that his wife saw fit to forgive him. But he could not get over how happy she seemed now. Even though he read and could tell that she missed him, she had found some happiness. William was very glad and pleased that his wife had seemed to find joy again in life.

General Tavington put the letter down on his desk. He stood and stretched, yawning as he did. As he turned, he saw the whore in his cot, having forgotten that she was there after having lost himself in his wife's letter. William sighed, feeling a bit of guilt as he looked at the blonde harlot in his bed. Although the trollop could slake his manly needs temporarily, she was no substitute for his beautiful wife, whom had captured his heart. Will loved Melanie and wanted terribly to hold her again, and to feel her arms around him.

The general picked up some sovereigns from his desk. He crossed the ground to his cot and shook the snoozing strumpet awake. She took the coins from the officer, dressed quickly at his request and soon left the tent. When she was gone, William Tavington crawled back under the covers of his cot, preferring to spend the night alone. He closed his eyes, thinking of Melanie, hoping to have a very sweet dream about her.

/~/~

Author's note: Banastre Tarleton utters a line in this chapter, "I have butchered more men and lain with more women than any other soldier…",. Supposedly, Horace Walpole said that Tarleton told him this. And Banastre was a known braggart, and it is phrased in the style that Tarleton would have used or spoken with. In my opinion, I think that he probably did brag of this at one time or another.

Carter's Grove Plantation incident: Carter's Grove Plantation on the James River just outside of Williamsburg is a spectacular, beautiful home. I visited it on vacation in 1995 when it was still open to the public. (it was purchased in the last few years by an American "dot com" millionaire and is now a private home again.) When I was there, they did tell the story of Tarleton riding his horse into the house and up the stairway. There are slash marks in the wooden banister that they let us look at and some appeared to have silver slivers deeply imbedded. The steps and banister are both made of teak—a very hard, dense wood. I certainly thought they looked like sword marks—because of how long and deep they are. I don't think cutting the banister with a typical knife would do this—it had to be a strong, hard blade brought down with a lot of force on that teak wood. Anyway, supposedly it is a legend that Tarleton did this and not proven. It is said that he did it for:

-Out of anger and spite because the family refused to billet his men there for the night and gave the tired officer resistance

-He was drunk and did it for fun

-He rushed into the house and roused the men awake the best way he could.

Personally, I think this is totally within Ban's character to have done something as outlandish and brash as this and that he probably did do it. I think it was the last reason above—to awaken his men. To me, the slashes in the banister were very random and looked like they were scattered about, as if done in haste and not an act of vandalism.