The Blood of Patriots and Tyrants

By Gordon Saunders

Will the colonies lose everything they fought for? Confronted with economic collapse and near anarchy, who can save the union? Will freedom be just a new tyranny?

Three destitute young men must find their fortunes amidst squabbling colonies that can't determine how to govern. They can barely feed and clothe themselves, with no

• Language: English
• Publisher: mediaropa
• Release date: Sep 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781956228076

Gordon Saunders

Over a period of twenty-five years, Dr. Saunders lived in four countries in Europe--working in more than three dozen countries both before and after the end of communist rule--with the purpose of describing and purveying grace. Overcoming cultural differences and ways of communicating gave him insight both into what divides people and into what unites them. It also helped him understand elements in various cultures, baggage some call it, that keep people from hearing one another. Writing fantasy gave him a way to minimize the baggage and show truths to people they might otherwise be unable to see.

Book preview

1

The Ball Game

W ham!

The ball hit the doorframe of the little cabin just fractions of an inch from Gilly’s head.

Yep, said Lewis. Looks like it will hold together.

Gilly grabbed it before it finished bouncing and side-armed it back at Lewis, who dodged easily, allowing it to continue its trajectory to the table recently set for dinner. At which point various sounds were produced that inevitably aroused the wrath of the females in the house.

You two little boys get outside, right now! said Aunt Virginia’s very loud voice.

And it won’t last long if you keep doing that, yelled Lewis’s cousin, Tetty. I did a wonderful job sewing it together, but it’s not a rock.

All right, said Lewis. Just testing it.

Lewis retrieved the ball and headed for the door already vacated by Gilly.

Wee are not leetle boys, said Gilly, outside. Which was true. Both he and Lewis had grown inches since they’d met about a year ago on the French ship of the line, Coureageous, on Chesapeake Bay – coincidentally both having a growth spurt at the same time.

Crispin wandered out after them.

Well, you act like little boys, he said.

Whereupon he was the recipient of an eight-inch diameter leather ball thrown into his chest at close range. Which, of course, precipitated a chase around the newly begun skeleton of a curing barn being built to replace the one the British had burned down last summer. He turned out to be a pretty good shot, even on the run, and this time Lewis was not able to dodge.

Ow! he said. Right on my ear!

Actually, said Crispin, walking over toward Lewis and picking the ball up off the ground, we need to take pretty good care of this.

They all knew what was inside: a note from none other than the Marquis de Lafayette, himself, stipulating that the bearer could draw one-thousand livres from the French treasury for the purpose of paying for the education and expenses of Lewis Elliot, Gilly Y’vant, and Crispin Graves at the Somerset Academy of Baltimore for the 1782-1783 academic year.

That was where they had to get to. And it was to be on foot because they couldn’t afford anything else. And it was to be only the three of them, young as they were, because Lewis’s father, Captain Thomas Elliot, had been called back to active duty, his Uncle James couldn’t leave the farm, and his cousin Lloyd was back with the Virginia militia. Nothing was happening in the war at the moment, but it wasn’t officially over. Everyone was waiting tensely to see what the British would do next.

It was the hot, fly-ridden, humid, languid, middle of August, and they would have to start their trek the next day. Tuesday, August 13, 1782.

After their October defeat at York Town, most of the nearly seven thousand prisoners of war from Cornwallis’s captured army were sent off northwest toward Virginia’s Louisa, Albemarle, and Orange counties. Though the slave population was high in those parts, there was always a need for more labor. Prisoners of war were given food, clothing, and shelter – more or less – and were expected to work to pay for it. They filled the bill: unpaid labor.

The prisoners from York Town itself, followed a land route past Richmond along the north side of the James River. But the several hundred from Gloucester County trudged northwest along the Piankatank River, past the Dragon Swamp where they crossed the river, and then along the south bank of the Rappahanock. Washington’s cartographers had laid out a line of march for the prisoners roughly parallel to the rivers, mostly on small roads since they wouldn’t reach a major road before Tappahannock, fifty-five or so miles northwest as the crow flies. This was the route Lewis and company would have to take.

Uncle James sat them down across from him at the table the morning before they were to leave.

Your father mapped this all out for you, said Uncle James. Which one of you reads maps the best?

"Pas moi," said Gilly.

English please, said Uncle James. Everyone, including the reluctant Gilly himself, had been trying to get Gilly to speak only in English – even if he didn’t know how to say what he wanted to say correctly.

Not mee, he said, grinning.

Lewis and Crispin looked at one another.

I’m passable, said Crispin.

Me, too, said Lewis.

Right. So both of you come around to my side and I’ll show you where you’re supposed to go and how long it should take you. He spread out several sheets of maps on the table.

Eet ees more eeasy on the wooater, said Gilly, looking at the upside-down papers.

Yes, said Uncle James, clearing his throat for effect, but as they haven’t announced the name of the frigate that is to take you yet, this will have to do.

Gilly smirked. Lewis rolled his eyes. And Crispin became immersed in the maps.

These are good, Crispin said. Our cartographer didn’t make maps that were nearly as good. He looked up at the others. But they were prettier.

Well, accuracy’s the thing, said Uncle James, not aesthetics. So here’s where you’re going.

If I made maps, said Crispin, they’d be both.

Uncle James glanced up at him momentarily then looked back at the maps. He pointed to the one on his extreme left.

You know how to get to the Court House. You’ll have to go up to Turk’s Ferry from there to get across the Piankatank. Or, if the ferry’s not running you could go up to the old bridge or the new bridge. He paused and looked back at the maps. It looks like there might be a few Tory households up that way, but I think it’s free of mil…

Uncle James, interrupted Lewis. We can read the maps. And we can take care of ourselves.

Uncle James sighed. Lloyd was just like you at this age, he said.

Is that good or bad? asked Lewis.

I don’t know, said Uncle James. But your father strictly ordered me to tell you all these things.

Did he leave anything in writing besides the maps? asked Crispin.

Yes, said Uncle James, a daily schedule. Where you should be, how long it should take you, whether there’s an inn or pub or farmers’ market there, what to watch out for.

Good! said Lewis. Give it to me. We’ll read it as we go.

Uncle James shoved a few maps on the right toward the left and collected a sheaf of smaller papers that had been under them. As he raised them, Lewis grabbed them and shoved them into his breeches pocket.

Thanks! he said. Then he turned to Gilly and Crispin. "C’mon! Let’s play La Roule," he said, grabbing the ball off the trestle beside him. The three of them crashed through the barely opened door toward the yard.

Uncle James shook his head, muttering, It’s a good thing Virginia wasn’t here.

Next morning, before sunrise, breakfasted, packed and provisioned, the boys jumped out the door once more. This time they were followed by Uncle James, Tetty and Aunt Virginia.

Now you boys take care of yourselves, shouted Aunt Virginia to their disappearing backs after all the hugs and tears had been dealt with.

We will, Aunt Virginia, shouted Lewis, turning his head back her way. It’s not as if we’re going into battle or anything.

His voice faded as he turned back.

That’s what worries me, said Uncle James to no one in particular. The ‘or anything’ they don’t know anything about.

The first day passed without incident. The militias in this part of the county had been released, the British and Continental armies were anywhere but here, and the locals were too busy with their farms to be out traipsing about on the roads, particularly in the heat of the day.

They made the fifteen miles or so to Gloucester Court House well before sundown and decided to stay there for the night.

We can’t afford an inn, but maybe Mrs. Foster will take us in for the night, said Lewis. If she’s still here.

But thinking of Mrs. Foster reminded him of his mother, who had died in her house.

Or maybe for just a meal, he said. I don’t think I want to stay there.

Mrs. Foster wasn’t there any longer, however, and the current owner turned them away brusquely. As it happened, a meal at any of the inns was more than their budget could bear, so they ended up walking northwest along the Ware River until they found a sheltered cove where they could eat some of the provisions they’d brought with them. It was edible, durable stuff, but not too tasty.

Is this all we have? asked Crispin.

Unless you want catch feesh for us, said Gilly, beginning to laugh uproariously, capturing Lewis in the hilarity as well.

Crispin took it stoically. After all, when they first met he’d been fishing with no bait. He’d been rather cross about their teasing at the time.

I really had seen a picture of people fishing, he said. And when the line’s in the water you can’t see if there’s anything on it.

I’ll grant you that, said Lewis. We’re you hoping for catfish who would want to play with the string?

Ha, ha, said Crispin. Then, becoming serious, he said, But what I didn’t tell you is that it was I, myself, who drew the picture.

You draw? asked Lewis.

Yes, he replied, and I’ve been dying for the last few years because I’ve had no paper or pen or ink.

Sorry, said Lewis. Maybe when we get to Somerset…

Gilly got up and set his rucksack in the grass behind them. He nodded at it. Bolster, he said. "Dormir."

Sleep, said Lewis. English.

Gilly nodded. "Oui. You doo only Eengleesh. I don’t understand. Meks mee mad."

Sorry, said Lewis. We’ll try to remember.

The sun set into the forest behind them as they closed their eyes.

When Lewis finally gave up pretending to sleep, he opened his eyes to Crispin, maps spread in an arc around him, reviewing the directions Lewis’s father had written.

We’re supposed to get to Urbanna today, Crispin said. But we have to get across the Piankatank somewhere.

Lewis grunted. I remember, he said. Turks Ferry, Old bridge, or New Bridge. Which looks easier?

If there’s a road, it’s more direct from Turk’s Crossing, said Crispin. But it doesn’t show a road from there. Should we cut across the countryside?

Doubtful, said Lewis. We don’t know the countryside.

Well, the ferry can’t debouch onto nothing, said Crispin. There has to be a road to somewhere.

Whoa, said Lewis. Where’d you get a word like ‘debouch’?

Crispin sighed and looked over at Lewis. It was not useful in the army to be educated. So I pretended not to be. Now I don’t have to keep up the pretense.

Why didn’t you say something earlier?

Allo! blurted Gilly, suddenly standing in front of them. "Je suis ici, aussi!"

Oh, shut up, said Lewis. We know you’re here but we can’t be translating all the time.

Gilly’s face fell. "Tais-toi? he said. Yoo would say that to mee?"

Lewis looked over at him. Sorry, he said. We were having a deep discussion.

Wee weere ‘aveeng a deep deeskusseeon, Gilly said in a mocking tone, wagging his head. "So. Deeskuss. I make petite dejeuner for mee selv. He looked back to see if his words had had any effect. And I know how to feesh!"

He stormed off.

Though, of course, he didn’t have anything with which to fish. So he was soon back.

Ah, whooat doo yoo ‘ave for b-br-brekfest? he asked. No feesh jumping out of reever on benk.

Lewis grinned, went to his rucksack, and pulled out their last loaf of bread. He tore off chunks and handed them to Gilly and Crispin.

Hey, he said, and then in French, "I’m really sorry for leaving you out. I’ll try to remember to ask if you understand. But you need to learn English!"

Gilly shrugged. I try, he said.

Crispin folded and stacked the maps carefully, placing them back in his rucksack, the other boys packed up theirs, they all filled their canteens in the river, and then they were on their way.

Though smaller roads often intersected with the one they were traveling, their route was never in doubt all the way to Turk’s Ferry. They reached it near mid-day only to find that the ferry-barge was on the other side and unattended. There was, however, a sturdy rope strung across the four-hundred yards or so of river with a smaller rope dangling below it, held by loops to the larger rope, also running from one side to the other.

Do you think we’re supposed to pull the barge over to our side with the smaller rope? asked Crispin.

Only one way to find out, said Lewis.

He tried and failed at jumping to the height at which the smaller rope was tied. Gilly rolled his eyes and shook his head at him, then shinnied up the tree as fast as if he’d been sliding down. Holding on only with his legs, he untied the smaller rope and dropped the end down.

Where’d you learn how to do that? asked Crispin.

"I leeved on sheep, he said. Seet in crow’s nest and watch world go by." He nodded toward the rope.

Now you pull ferry over ‘ere and I tie rope again.

Crispin and Lewis took hold of the rope and pulled. And pulled. And strained. And pulled. They looked at one another and then up at Gilly.

Nothing’s happening, said Lewis.

No ting ‘appening? said Gilly. Loook in reever!

The barge had finally pulled away and was now about a third of the way over – straining against the larger rope that saved it from going downstream.

Don’t loose rope! shouted Gilly.

As they’d been gawking at the barge, they’d loosened their hold on the rope that was now rushing more and more quickly through their hands. They both grabbed for it suddenly.

Ow! said Crispin. Ow! Ow! Ow! That burned my hands!

Agh! said Lewis.

Yooo tooo need pay attention! said Gilly. Now coil rope as yooo pooll in.

They looked up at him, throwing yards of rope in a heap as they pulled the barge toward them.

I guess I need com down show you ‘ow do it.

Gilly dropped from the tree and began methodically coiling the rope, leaving about ten feet at the beginning that was uncoiled.

The barge finally arrived with a thump. Gilly took the end of the rope back up to the branch where it had been tied, tied it again, and jumped back down.

Lewis gave him a sideways look. I thought you didn’t know how to tie knots, he said.

I learn me, said Gilly.

The boys threw their rucksacks on the barge and jumped on themselves.

So how do we get this back to the other side? asked Crispin.

With more shaking of the head and rolling of the eyes Gilly pointed to the front where a sturdy post held a severely knotted rope. The rope dropped into the water from the post.

Wee pull that rope een – and wee coil eet! – and that breeng us to other side, said Gilly.

Which they did.

On the other side, they threw their sacks to the shore and jumped off. Gilly took the coiled rope off the barge and set it in the fork between the tree to which the larger rope was tied and a branch that had been conveniently cut off for its storage.

Next person pool ferry over same way, he said.

Right, said Lewis. Let’s go! We’re losing time.

I was right about a road leading from here, said Crispin.

Only partly right, said Lewis, since there are about five roads leading from here, all small. Which do we take?

According to the maps, said Crispin, we want to go almost exactly northwest.

Great, said Lewis. And how do we know what’s northwest?

Crispin pulled a round wafer-shaped object from his pocket and looked at it. My compass will tell us, he said.

Well, aren’t you just full of surprises, said Lewis. How long have you had the compass and you didn’t tell us?

Do I ask you to tell me everything you have in your pockets? Crispin replied.

Yooo know eet’s reeelly ‘ot, said Gilly. Wee neeed find shady spot to rest in ‘eat of day."

So, even though it was a smaller road than the northwesterly one, and not quite in the direction they wanted to go, since there were trees there, they took the more westerly route along the river.

They walked. It got hotter. They kept walking.

Enough, said Crispin, finally, pointing to the left. Here’s a nice shady place over there with grass, trees to lean against, and close enough to the river to get water.

Ees goood, said Gilly.

They plunked themselves down. Each found a tree to lean against. Crispin and Lewis closed their eyes and Gilly didn’t. He fidgeted. He lay down fully on the grass. He sat up and leaned against the tree again. He got up and ambled about. He looked over at Lewis who appeared to be sleeping, and then at Crispin, also apparently sleeping. He thought about the ball in Lewis’s rucksack.

He tip-toed toward Lewis, watching him, and then knelt in front of Lewis’s sack. He opened it carefully, reached his arm in and fished in it, finally finding and extracting the ball. He tucked it under his arm and tip-toed a few dozen feet away, whereupon he tossed the ball in front of him, ran to it, and kicked it as far as he could away from the others.

Then he ran after it, kicked it again, found and kicked it again, and found it once more. He turned back in the direction of the others, realized he’d gone a long way from them, and kicked it back in their direction. Next, he did a high, arcing kick. He watched the ball glide through the branches of a large tree, almost deciding to stop there, and then begin its downward arc to the ground. At which point, Gilly was startled to see Lewis wait for it to hit and then kick it back toward him. Not looking for an invitation, he kicked it back in Lewis’s direction, only to see Crispin cut it off before it reached Lewis and kick it away from both of them.

Lewis and Gilly zeroed in on the fleeing ball, all three boys almost colliding as they chased it away from their resting place. Then, shazam, the ball was kicked one way. Gilly headed it off and kicked it back to Lewis who kicked it away from Crispin – coincidentally, also away from their resting place. It got far enough away from all of them, finally, that they slowed and began to walk toward it together.

Until they were stopped in their tracks by the snort of a horse behind them. They all turned about instantly to see three men on horseback approaching them from three different directions, their own rucksacks hanging over the horses’ backs.

Now what would you boys be doing in these here parts? said one of the horsemen, none too kindly.

Gilly and Crispin both looked at Lewis.

We’re just passing through, he said.

Don’t sound like they’re from here, do they Sam, said another of the men.

We’re not soldiers, said Lewis.

Do tell, said the first. But I’ll warrant you’re up to no good.

Like I said, said Lewis, we’re just passing through. On our way north.

You Tories? said the one who hadn’t spoken.

No! said Lewis, Of course not!

Don’t matter none, Jake, said the first one. Then to Lewis. We don’t care what you are. You ain’t wanted here. He nodded toward the sacks. This your stuff?

Lewis nodded.

The man dismounted followed shortly by the others.

Dump ‘em, he said. Each man dumped the contents of the rucksack he was carrying onto the ground.

What’s ‘at? said the first man, pointing to the papers that had fallen from Crispin’s sack.

Crispin looked at Lewis who nodded. Best not to let them hear an English accent.

Those are the maps we’re using to get to where we’re going, he said.

Ain’t no one gives maps to kids, said the man. You spies?

No! said Lewis. We’re just kids, going back to school.

Ain’t no schools ‘round here, said the man.

That’s why we’re just passing through, said Lewis, exasperated.

Don’t sass me, kid, said the man. Looking to the others with him he said, See anything you like?

’Pears to be a coin purse in this one, said the one he’d called Sam. Think I’ll hold on to it.

An’ I’ll take those s’posed maps, said the first.

The men left the rest of the contents of the rucksacks strewn on the ground and remounted.

If I find you within twenty mile of here tomorrow, he said to Lewis, you and your mute friends here, I’ll tan your hides so’s you won’t sit for a month. Now git outta here!

With that he pulled on his reins, turned his horse, and the three of them trotted off.

2

Safe House

U mmmph! said Lewis, smacking his fists against his thighs. There goes any hope we ever had for a hot dinner or a roof over our heads.

And there went our maps and instructions, said Crispin making a face. Good thing I have a great memory.

And there…and what about…oh… said Lewis, suddenly stumbling for words.

Instantly they looked at one another.

"La roule! said Gilly at the same time Crispin and Lewis shouted, The ball!"

They all scrambled in the direction they had last kicked it.

Wait, said Crispin, stopping, holding his hands out, palms facing back. We don’t all have to go. I’ll look for it.

Oh, ye of great memory, said Lewis, Go find it. We’ll pick up our stuff.

It wasn’t surprising the men had taken only the cash and maps. All that was left was the few clothes the boys had, a blanket or two, and the soaps Tetty had packed surreptitiously. Gilly and Lewis stuffed everything back into their sacks, then Crispin’s stuff into his, picked up the sacks and walked in the direction Crispin had gone.

Before they reached him, they saw him walking back and forth in a patch of grass that reached his knees, shaking his head and looking all around him.

What? said Lewis when they were close enough. Memory failed you?

No, said Crispin. You can see where it rolled in. He pointed to a spot about ten feet to the left of where Lewis was standing where the grass was still slightly bent from the ball having rolled over it. "But then the track stopped and the ball’s just gone!"

Gilly and Lewis walked over to the spot indicated by Crispin. They surveyed the ground all around the ball’s final resting place, not seeing it any more than he had seen it.

’Spec’ y’all’re lookin’ for this, drawled a young man’s voice from above their heads.

All three snapped their heads upward to see a dark brown hand holding their ball about eight feet above them in the massive beech tree that shaded them. In the shadow of the leaves and branches it was difficult to make out more of the form than that. But it soon materialized, shinnying down the tree much as Gilly had done by the ferry.

That’s our ball! shouted Lewis.

An’ ain’t you glad I saved it from Billy-Jim an’ his gang.

It’s just a ball, said Crispin, looking sternly at Lewis and Gilly in turn, making sure they said nothing about the note inside it.

Yeah, said the fellow, That why y’all come runnin’ after it once they’s gone.

May we have it please, said Lewis.

I do you better ‘en ‘at, said the fellow.

By the way, what’s your name? said Lewis, And are you a runaway?

Name’s Zach, was the response, An’ I show you sumpin’, you come wit’ me.

The boys looked at one another and then at him. Sure, they could take him in a fight, but could they catch him if he ran? He watched all the looking.

I ain’t gonna run and I ain’t gonna fight, he said. Jes’ come. You be glad. You wanna roof over y’all’s head? Food? I’se gonna show you.

We’re supposed to get past Urbanna tonight, said Crispin.

Pa said ten days to two weeks, said Lewis. So if it takes a little longer… He looked over at Crispin and Gilly, then back to Zach. We might not make our goal today, but what choice do we have?

Zach had already started off walking as close to due west as he could go, seeing as the river continued to veer north. Soon the boys were in step behind him.

This be a secret way, he said, as the woods closed around them. There seemed to be no path, but Zach knew exactly where to go. When they had gone far enough, and turned and twisted enough so the boys were quite aware they’d never find their way out alone, Zach spoke again.

Old Tory safe house, he said. "So’s they escape to the redcoats. An’