Courage a Distinctly American Quality

By Donald G. Brooks

Travel along as this non-fictional family is brought back to life once more. Walk with them as we retrace 400 years of history that carries them to the present.

William Brooks was the grandson of Jonathan, who arrived from Swansea, England, aboard the Matthew in 1635. William and others left Boston in the late 1600s, heading south in search of peace and a better land.

Their experience begins as William and his young wife, Amanda, move into the vast wilderness of New Jersey. There they carve out a small farm of their own. Each of their real life descendants opens new lands and new experiences. Those staying on the eastern seaboard are quickly drawn into a Revolutionary War. For those who move to Virginia, thinking to avoid it, it follows them there.

Two generations later they travel by wagons to Pennsylvania at the confluence of the Monongahela, Allegheny and Ohio Rivers. On a flatboat, they continue westward into the wild Kentucky frontier. Life is very good there, that is until Civil War erupts.

Listen as they tell their story of trials and celebrations. They live the dream that rests in the hearts of free men. They are the masters of their destiny. It brings true wealth, a state of mind, not position or money!

They rejoice in good times and suffer the bad. One quality stands out,
however. Thats a special and unique courage, courage birthed from deep within the American soul. Truly it is a Distinctly American Quality!

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jun 12, 2017
• ISBN: 9781524687519

Donald G. Brooks

Don Brooks began publishing his writings late in life. His first novel, Once More from the Beginning, was published in 2012. This family autobiography reveals their struggles, dysfunctions, persistence, and their survival. Don and Pat Brooks, lifelong residents of Warrick County, Indiana, have been married for 52 years. They have two children, Brent and Rebecca, and six grandchildren. From an early age Don wrote short stories and poems. As a 14-year-old freshman he produced and directed a class play. He credits his Aunt Anice as his inspiration. As children he and his eight siblings would sit spellbound on the back porch of their rural home as she spun stirring stories long into the night. “Would that I could return to that time, creating from my feelings the stories that my heart was so full of,” he comments. Don has written two novels and four short stories since retirement. His genre is Family and History. Every family has a story. It matters little its shape, size or color. It’s theirs and deserves to be shared. Don has proven it true.

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Courage

A Distinctly American Quality

Donald G. Brooks

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© 2017 Donald G. Brooks. All rights reserved.

Interior Graphics/Art Credit: Matthew Fitzpatrick

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Published by AuthorHouse 06/13/2017

ISBN: 978-1-5246-8752-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-8753-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-8751-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017909277

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Scripture taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

Scripture quotations marked NASB are taken from the New American Standard Bible®, Copyright © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission.

Table of Contents

Dedication and Acknowledgements

Prologue

Chapter                           Title

1                          Fleeing Boston

2                          Amanda and William’s Son

3                          William’s Big Dream

4                           A Teamster’s Travels

5                           Thomas falls in love

6                           Prosperity and Plenty

7                           Mary and Tom’s Great Shame

8                           New Opportunities for Mary and Tom

9                           Frederick County, Virginia

10                         Elizabeth’s Distressing Dilemma

11                         Margaret and Tommy Marry

12                         The Revolutionary War

13                          Reunion in New York

14                          Tommy and Margaret’s Farm

15                          Family Growing Pains

16                          The Kentucky Territories

17                          The Civil War Years

18                           The Bad Seed

19                           Returning Home Once More

Epilogue

Character Index

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Dedication

This work is dedicated to my family, my larger family, my brothers, sisters, their children and grandchildren, who like our predecessors, received the gift of life that passed to us. The patterns from those lives from ages ago carried the guidon of an ordinary family, into an exciting new world.

They were an inspired people. Deity, discipline and extreme courage provided the pathway for our feet today.

Acknowledgements

When one sets out to write, we think in the singular, the author. Of a truth we soon learn the author doesn’t possess all the attributes to create a really good book. The following people moved this work over the top, making it a truly epic book.

Thank you,

Prologue

All here today, stand straining to know the wildernesses of tomorrow. As a free people, we are carried into our tomorrows by the passions within us.

This family longed for a destination they dreamt of from youth. Choices and Providence carried them along. At the age of accountability a great puzzle, as it were, is laid before us. Because of the number of missing pieces, we cannot know all the events from the past that affect our todays. Placed into the mosaic are parts and pieces as the past connects with the future. With obedience and humility we add goodness. Some parts won’t fit well. Some are ugly. Once played, they cannot be withdrawn, repaired or replaced. The next players will have to find direction from our lives.

So it is as we follow this family. Led by their predecessors, they continue the qualities, or cast them off. This is about courage. It is about a people who, when it came their turn, stayed the course. It is about people with frailties, yet wanting to do what is right. It is about people who held to their Deity, to their discipline, and to their courage.

Thus saith the Lord God unto these bones,

Behold, I will lay sinews upon you, and will bring up flesh upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and ye shall live; and ye shall know that I am the Lord.

Ezekiel 5:5-6

CHAPTER ONE

Fleeing Boston

It was a cold and wet morning in early November of 1708 that chilled you to the bone. The rains had come again the night before and drenched everything. It stole through the many cracks in the walls, bringing the uncomfortable dampness with it. Although the temperature was still well above freezing, the damp chill made it feel as though winter had fully descended.

The hay and corn not all put up yet left William Brooks uneasy about provisions for the likely long winter to come. The tobacco still curing would be ready to go to Burlington shortly. Things were too wet to do much of anything except rework damaged tools from summer’s farming and get them ready for the coming spring, still five months away. His pregnant wife, Amanda had been busy all summer filling up the root cellar at the back of the house with all manner of root crops. The root cellar dug deep into the steep incline of the hill that rose far above the tree tops surrounding the house. Timbers framed its face and a thick oaken door sealed it from the harshness of the summer sun, now disappearing more each day. Amanda also cleaned out the smoke house in anticipation of the salting, drying and smoking meats. That would begin in the next few weeks. On the inside walls she stretched more cloth pieces to better hold in the smoke and heat for curing and drying.

The chickens were providing 8-10 eggs a day. Amanda’s mother taught her even eggs could be preserved for up to nine months by wiping cooking grease on them before placing them on the root cellar floor where it was cooler.

It had been nearly six years since leaving their home in Norfolk County Massachusetts, two miles southwest of Boston, to move just south of Burlington, New Jersey. The New Jersey colony first settled in 1664, some 34 years after the Massachusetts colony. Their small, two-room log home was situated in Burlington County on the banks of the Delaware River at Rancocas Creek. They were 15 miles northeast of Philadelphia and across the Delaware River.

In Boston the Puritans made life so difficult for all faiths, especially Quakers and Seventh Day Worshippers. People were leaving in droves. They were moving to the rich farm lands and forests of New Jersey. One wouldn’t think Christian Puritans would behave so, but the Quakers and Seventh Day Worshipers were different. That made them a target. Puritans thought them not strict enough. As well, their mother land, England, had for some time been increasingly intruding into their lives in Boston without any regard for their privacy and freedom whatsoever. Between edicts and a tax on most things, they felt pushed and at the same time restricted.

There seemed to be less and less room for them to spread out on their 20-acre cabbage farm near Boston. They tilled all they could but the small area that was their home site.

In Burlington County, Virginia they were able to purchase 160 acres from the proceeds of their Boston farm. Their move of 140 miles took them four weeks to complete in the spring of 1702. They were unable to get crops out in time for a harvest before the coming winter. The winter that first year had been especially painful for them with few rations and a hovel for housing. However, William, 21, and Amanda, 17, were young, strong and had the company of other kith and kin during the daring move. Only a few settled near them. She had been born in 1686 and he in 1681.

William and Amanda had only six acres of their land tillable, but it was proving enough to supply their needs and some left over to trade and barter with neighbors. They rebuilt their livestock holdings to two milking cows, a bull, eight sheep, two of which were about to birth, and 28 chickens, of which about half were layers. The Devons were a breed of cattle introduced from England some 40 or so years earlier. They were hearty cattle, a bright red whose horns were white with black tips. They were foragers who did well in brushy country which is what the frontier land was made up of. The Devons were good milkers, insuring large amounts of butter and cheeses as well. These and other such things were bartered with nearby neighbors.

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Their two Marsh Tacky horses, a mare named Lizzie and a stallion named Rooster, were strong and more than able to pull the wooden plough and harrow through the sometimes moist soil near the river bottoms. They were not attractive, but a dirty brown. They were descendants of the many horses the Spanish brought to the colonies decades before. The soil was especially fertile, and the corn did well here. William also had a small stand of tobacco every year that was grown for trade with merchants who shipped it to Great Britain.

William and Amanda had two children shortly after arriving in Burlington County. Their first born was Sadie, now age five. She was a white blond headed little girl, who looked like an overgrown china doll. She was quite the little grown up, helping mama with small chores already.

Her most important chore seemed to be tending to her little sister, Ester, who was age three and inclined to get into everything. Ester was especially attracted to their cistern. It had been dug shortly after arriving. It had a wooden top standing some three feet above the ground with a leather hinged lid. The cistern was connected to the spring by a long wooden trough so that spring water would continually fill it.

It was thought most water was not to be safe to drink. Even so William often drank deeply from the stone-lined pool at the spring. He constructed it the summer before last. The water from the spring was cold. The spring was a good place for crocks of butter and other foods to avoid spoilage in the summer months. Round circular wooden lids fit tightly in the containers. It also proved a good place to keep a jug of ale.

Ester just would not stay away from the nearby cistern where she risked falling in. Sadie would find her climbing on it and once again drag her back to the house screaming.

This particular November morning was more bleak than usual. Amanda was pregnant with her third child. Her labor she thought had begun the day before, but wasn’t regular like. She was doing poorly. William was beside himself. He thought he could care for her, and if things had been natural like, no doubt he could have.

Miranda Roberts, their neighbor from a farm three miles to the North was with her now. The day before, William visited the Roberts farm, asking if Miranda could come and look in on Amanda. Amanda had been in irregular labor since noon on Wednesday. William was in a panic. This was the first child she was having a problem with. It had been many days now since she couldn’t stand to do simple things.

Miranda arrived Wednesday evening, just after dark to find Amanda so exhausted by labor that hadn’t progressed naturally. Miranda was up with Amanda all that night long and with no end in sight to the irregular pains. This morning Amanda had taken a turn for the worse, and was exhausted and unable to help by pushing any further.

Miranda whispered to William, The baby’s got all the signs of not being turned all the way. I think we are going to have to do it.

William heard Miranda say the words, but he felt frozen and couldn’t collect his senses.

She repeated, William, we’ve got to do it.

The abruptness of her tone shook him from his stupor, replying, I don’t think I can, he stuttered.

You got no choice. You don’t want to see them both die, do you? That seemed to shake William from his numbness as he asked, Help me, tell me what I can do, now with a slight trembling in his voice.

Amanda by now was in and out of consciousness almost two hours. Get me more hot water and cloths. Let’s get her in a better position. I’m going to try reaching in and bring the head down some, she said as William was gathering the things she asked for. Miranda began the frightening process of squeezing the fingers of her left hand in searching for the baby’s head. She found it. Carefully, she began the process of pushing the baby’s back up with her right hand and pulling the head down with her left. The hot wet cloth was helping relax Amanda’s body somewhat. Following what seemed like an eternity, Miranda worked the head out.

Now William, press lightly on top of her stomach to help me get the baby free. Amanda, push with all your might.

Slowly Amanda’s body gave up the baby, and it was free of her.

William watched in tears as they peered at that small wet body now as blue as a summer’s sky. Miranda worked feverishly to clear its mouth and rubbed the body in an attempt to revive her. The little girl had coal black hair, just like her mothers.

It’s no use. I’m not getting any response. I think we’ve lost her, Miranda became emotional as her eyes began to tear up. The baby had come too early, she was too small. She put her ear on the baby’s chest listening for a heartbeat. There was none.

The room went quiet for minutes until Miranda realized the loss of blood was about to doom Amanda to the same fate. Taking the cloths, she began to staunch the flow, maintaining pressure. It was working. Although Amanda was semi-conscious, her condition seemed stable enough for now. It would only be time before they would know her condition.

William wrapped the baby in clean dry cloths, and placed it on the bed beside Amanda. William, unable to speak had broken into a sweat and was visually shaken.

Miranda was the first to speak, following a long silence, William, we did all we could. It pains me something awful, but we did all we could do. We’ll just have to wait to see how Amanda will do now.

The morning was spent. The rain once more had begun slow and easy like. William stood staring out the small frame-encased window of the bedroom overwhelmed by the pain that weighed him down like a wet heavy woolen blanket.

He whispered under his breath, Why God? No replay came, none was truly expected.

He never hurt like this before he thought. Abruptly, he turned seeing Amanda. Her face was quiet like. He thought how he needed to collect himself and be concerned about her and the girls. What’s done is done and now he had to do what they could to save Amanda - if they could. Moving to her bedside he sat on the edge and began to caress her hand. He could feel her heart beating in her wrist and the strength of her pulse.

That was good. Hope again surged within him. He had to focus on her with all his might.

Miranda, he asked, What are you thinking? Is she going to recover?

We’ll know in a few hours. When she wakes we’ll know more. All we can do is wait. Only time will tell.

William continued to sit, caressing her hand for over an hour before he became so restless that he had to do something.

I’m going to the shed to check the stock, he announced.

Miranda understood saying, I’ll put something together for you and the girls when you come back in.

William replied, Don’t bother. I don’t feel like I could eat a thing. Just feed the girls for me.

I’ll need to go home for a while this evening, said Miranda, I’ll need to see how my children are getting on and come back before it gets real late. Ernest is still in Philadelphia and the children are alone, except for Elsie.

Elsie was nearly 17; Elsie was able to run the house quite well without Miranda. Still she wanted to see Elsie and her other children.

I think it best if I go check on them, she told him. I’ll get back before midnight. When she wakes again get some water and this broth in her. Check from time to time to see that the bleeding is stopped. Get all these other cloths washed up.

With that she collected up her few things and was off on foot, making her way down the muddy road connecting the two farms. She left William alone with the girls, the baby and Amanda. For the first time in his life, he felt really alone and helpless. There was nothing he could do. The feeling was terrifying.

Along near dark Amanda began to rally somewhat. She was able to take some broth. She asked the girls if they could come and sit with her. They were quiet like as they peered at the small and still baby at her side.

She asked William if he would place the baby in her arms, I want to hold her some, she whispered in a low and weak tone, I need to hold her, William.

Their two girls sat in silence as Amanda began to rock the baby back and forth.

We need to name her, Amanda said remembering they had already chosen the name Anna for a girl and Thomas for a boy.

It’s Anna Brooks, William softly replied.

I’m going to go to the shed for a while, William told her.

Why? asked Amanda.

William looked hard and long at Amanda and left the room without answering. She knew full well from the look in his face he was going to begin work on Anna’s coffin. She knew in her heart the pain they both felt, but time wouldn’t stand still affording them a respite.

They had to move forward. The girls left the room now while Amanda continued rocking Anna and began softly singing, Curly locks, curly looks, wilt thou be mine - thou shall not wash dishes, nor yet feed the swine - but sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam - and feed upon strawberries, sugar and cream.

After three rounds, her voice trailed off and fell into silence once more. She stopped rocking. Her face became as stone, her stare as cold as the iron nails she seemed to be looking at in the wall across the room. Near the door to the main room sat a long slender cradle that both Sadie and Ester had used. It was empty and would continue to be empty now she considered.

Evening had fallen when William returned from the shed with Anna’s coffin. He sat it in the corner of the front room on a small table and sank into a chair at the table.

Girls, he called, come and let’s have some supper.

They wasted no time coming to the table as William filled their little trenchers with a serving of potatoes and the two-day-old deer stew over cornbread Miranda had warmed. The girls were quiet and like William, they had no appetite. All three of them picked over their portions, but ate little.

Now dark, they heard a tiny rap at the door.

Opening the door slightly, Miranda stuck her head in, saying, Anybody here?

The girls and William looked up and William in a stronger voice now, asked, Come on in and eat some supper with us.

First I want to tend to Amanda, she answered, Is she awake? Yes, replied William, Could be she might take some more porridge. You might ask her.

Miranda walked to the bedroom, looking in, found Amanda asleep with Anna in her arms.

Returning to the front room she said, She’s asleep again. Let’s just let her rest. Her color is come back some. I think she is doing as well as can be expected. By tomorrow we’ll know more.

She took a trencher from the cupboard, a spoon from the drawer, and served herself up some of the deer stew and cornbread, sitting down between the girls. No one spoke. It seemed there was nothing to say.

An hour passed, then two. They heard movement in the bedroom and William went to see, finding Amanda had gotten up from the bed.

Amanda, you oughtn’t to be trying to get up alone, he declared. Is there something I can get for you?

No, I just wanted to move about a bit, she replied. I feel like I have to get on my feet some.

Miranda is back. Can she help you? he asked.

With that Miranda was already at the door to the room and quick as a flash, was in the room helping Amanda back to the bedside.

Let’s not get into a rush. There is time enough to get better and no need of causing yourself more harm, Miranda insisted. One, two and three steps found her back sitting on the edge of the bed. She was going to be okay. You could feel the air lighten as she settled back into the bed. It would take time, but they would weather this and come out on the other side, okay.

The next morning Miranda was up at first light fixing a little breakfast of pork bacon, and gravy for the bread and eggs. Amanda was able to eat some eggs. The girls, still quiet, were going about small house chores. William was busy lining the inside of the tiny coffin with white linen and a small pillow he made from left over cloths he found. He would set the coffin on a wall table near the door. Next he found a small dress that both girls had worn, to dress Anna in. Following that he placed her in the coffin. He stood for a few moments admiring her and how she was such a beautiful baby. Her eyes were closed as if she were only asleep.

Through his head ran the strands of a verse, The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away – blessed be the name of the Lord. He remembered Amanda, and was thinking to himself how he wouldn’t have been able to carry on had he lost her as well. A warm twinge of gratitude filled his heart as he went to the bedroom door to look at Amanda once again. It was as if he just needed to see her, to be sure she was okay.

Midmorning, Miranda announced, William, I’m going on home now. If you need some help, I can send Elsie. I know she would want to do what she could.

And with that she turned with her small bag and was gone.

The days began to pass routinely once more. A dry spell had given William time to cut and shock the rest of the corn. Soon the hay would all be in a neat stack next to the shed. Next week he would take a skid of cured tobacco and beaver pelts to Burlington to sell. His skill with tanning skins had become an art. The pelts were soft and rich with bright colors. With that money he would return with staples. There would be flour, sugar, salt and other cooking spices. Maybe he could get store bought cloth for Amanda to make herself a dress. As well, maybe even some licorice for the girls. If he could do well enough in the trade, he might even be able to save back several pound of proclamation money. That plus what they laid up would have to do them through the winter months and especially until their garden was producing once again.

It was December the thirteenth, a Monday, mid morning when he struck out for Burlington. With the threatening snow and reduced daylight hours he wanted get there early enough and safely. If he were there by mid afternoon, he would have plenty of time to trade his things and return before night fall. He could stay in the inn that night and return home the next morning if the weather worsened. The ground had a light dusting of snow making the runners move smoothly for Rooster and Lizzie. He walked along side, but where the road became soggy he would climb aboard the long narrow skid and dismount again when the ground was solid once more. He walked so as to spare the team the unnecessary load.

He hadn’t been on the road an hour when he passed by the Roberts’ cabin sitting back 400 or so feet from the road. A sense of appreciation came over him when he thought about what kind people they were and Miranda’s help. He decided to turn in and see if by chance he could do any business for them while in Burlington.

William stopped and tied his team to a small tree, and went to the door looking for Ernest.

Miranda greeted him with, Hello William.

Where is Ernest? he asked, I thought I’d see if I could get you folks anything while I’m in Burlington.

Ernest took things Saturday morning and hasn’t come back, she replied. That’s not like him. It would sure like it if you would see what’s keeping him.

I’ll keep an eye out for him, answered William returning to his team. And with that he got back on the road.

The snow was heavier. Tracks from just an hour ago were filling up already. Even though the sun couldn’t be seen, he reckoned it was getting close to noon. He stopped to rest the team and gnaw on pork jerky. The furs and tobacco were covered with a piece of canvas to keep them dry. So he crawled under it where it was warm. Atop the furs and tobacco it was soft and comfortable. It was good to be out of the snow as well. He was beginning to doze when he shook it off and got back to the road.

Clucking to the team, they trudged onward. He reckoned it was about two miles more. It was hard to guess the time with the sun out of sight. It must be past noon by this time he thought to himself. Thirty or so minutes later he could see coal smoke rising from the distant chimneys. He could see horses tied to rails at the store that sat on the bank of the Delaware River. A few men were outside. There was a mother dragging a young boy across the street headed to the dry goods store. At the far end of the street was the tavern where three more horses were tied at the hitching post. A light blanket of snow lay on their backs, suggesting the owners had been a considerable time in the building. The trading post lay on the west side of the street which is where he was headed first. After tying the team, he took his Brown Bess from under the canvas and stepped into the trading post.

Inside three men, friends of his, sat propped back in their chairs near the large stone fireplace. The store owner, Silas Prage, was leaning on the counter sucking on his miniature pipe talking to the men. The pipe had gone out and he scraped the dottle from it.

Silas asked William, have you seen anything of Ernest?

Silas’ face turned into a frown as he turned to William.

Yep, I have, he replied. He’s got himself into a heap of trouble. You want a tankard of ale?

Yes, I believe I will. Tell me about Ernest? he replied.

Saturday night there was a card game at the tavern, replied Silas. He stepped back and poured a mug of ale for William. He began his story as he worked to re-light the small, gnarly pipe held tight in his teeth.

In the early morning hours there was five in the game, Ernest, Andy, Richard, Lawrence and this here stranger. They were all drunk, but especially the stranger. They’d been playing since eight. At bout one-thirty in the morning Ernest was £12 to the good. The stranger got loud, swearing at Ernest. He called Ernest a ‘cheat.’ Ernest took it right back to him, ‘Say it once more, and I’ll rip you six ways from Sunday.’ Five minutes later he said it again. Only this time he pulled a pistol from under his waistcoat, but Ernest saw it coming. He reached out and pushed the pistol to the side just as it fired. The ball cut through Ernest’s waistcoat, leaving powder burn on Ernest’s left side and arm.

When Ernest blocked the pistol, he drew his knife with the other hand and stabbed the man in the left side of his ribcage. Next thing, he fell to the floor, wounded, and lay there moaning as everyone stared in disbelief.

Ernest wiped the blood from his knife on his trouser leg and put the knife back in its scabbard. The others seeing the man was hurt bad, they carried him to doc’s place.

The constable took Ernest and his winnings to the brig. He’s holding Ernest until the Magistrate is here to sort through things. Some say Ernest cut him afore he fired. No one seems to know for sure, but that’s why they are holding him. Nobody knowed the man or where he came from. Andy says he was on his way to Philadelphia.

Where’s Ernest? asked William.

He’s locked up in the tavern cellar until they can sort through it, replied Silas.

Well will you look at my furs and tobacco for me? asked William, I aim to get them off my hands quick as I can. I’ll go over to see Ernest directly."

Silas called for his wife to tend the store as he followed William out to the skid. They pulled back the canvas and Silas began rubbing the hides, checking the backs and counting them.

I count sixteen he said turning his attention to the tobacco. Tobacco looks mighty good, good body, he went on to say and began counting the bundles. It appears to be 47 bundles and they are all good, but these two here. They seem to have a little blue mold, pointing to the two that were on the top of the stack.

He stood there for several minutes figuring in his head and abruptly declared, I reckon I can see £26, 2s.

William remained quiet for a time finally responding,

I’m thinking more like £34. The pelts alone are worth £20 to £22, replied William.

Can you meet me at £30? Silas asked.

By the smile on William’s face one could see it was a deal.

The two men seemed pleased with their arrangement as they shook hands and headed back inside. At the counter, Silas counted out 30 crowns and pushed them over the rough wooden counter to William. William tied them in a leather pouch and left the store. Outside, two of Silas’ men were off loading his furs and tobacco. Silas propped up against the door frame filling his pipe, lighting it again while a plume of blue smoke encircled his head.

Looking toward the tavern now, William boarded his skid with his rifle and gentle like, clucked to the team as they slowly moved up the street to the front door of the livery. There he left his team and proceeded to the tavern. He couldn’t help thinking to himself as he entered the door, how Ernest had been foolish to get involved with a stranger like that. He didn’t know Ernest to be a gambler. Maybe he did gain a nice winning, but to put his family at such risk, to William, it seemed unthinkable.

He remembered Amanda and thought how she would do, if it were him locked up right now.

Once inside the inn he asked, Can you give me a bunk for the night?

Sure can, answered Rudy, the proprietor, That’ll be a shilling for the night and breakfast in the morning if you’re interested.

William plopped down a crown on the desk and waited for his change. William, having been here on many trips knew the bunks were upstairs, and he headed off to find his place for the night. As he climbed the stairs he wondered what he could say to Ernest.

Ernest was below in the cellar. He might have to see the constable for permission to visit Ernest. His mind jumped to tomorrow when on his return home, he would have to explain this to Miranda. Magistrates only came by once a month or so which meant Ernest wasn’t going anywhere soon.

William stacked his things on a bunk and return downstairs asking the whereabouts of the constable.

He’s left some 20 minutes ago, said Rudy.

Can I visit Ernest for a few minutes? he asked.

I don’t see why not. Maybe I better send someone down with you just to keep it right, you know what I mean? he replied. Hank, would you go down with William to visit Ernest?

Yeah, I can do that, he replied as he grabbed the oil lantern from the mantle.

It’s dark down there, he remarked as he took a burning brand from the fire place, lit the lantern, then headed for the stairs to the cellar with William right behind. The steps were narrow and steep. The light was just enough to lift the darkness and cast eerie shadows along the dirt walls. At the bottom they turned left and came directly to the heavy door that held Ernest inside.

In the near darkness they could hear Ernest ask, Rudy is that you? Can you bring me some water and grub?

It’s me, Will, he replied to Ernest. I come by to speak with you and to take word to your wife in the morning. She’s been worried why you weren’t back home by now. You any notion, what I can do to help? asked William.

Well first off I didn’t do what they say. We were doing fine until he got drunk and obnoxious with us at the table. Andy Brewer, Lawrence Smith and Richard Gentry were sitting in on the game as well. He just went off like a rifle shot when I pulled my winnings back from the middle of the table. He made a slurring remark about me doing so well and said I must be cheating.

I stood up and threatened to take him outside when he reached for the flintlock in his belt. Well that’s when things just went crazy, and I grabbed my knife and cut him real good just as he fired on me. He shot a hole in my waist coat, but he didn’t hit me. By that time I already cut him, but because we was wrestling around I didn’t know I’d hurt him that bad. The constable brought me down here after they took him over to docs.

Next thing I knew they are telling me he’s dead. The constable says I have to stay here for the magistrate to look into it. I’m in a mess of trouble ain’t I?

Well I believe we need to get a barrister to take your part, answered William. In the morning I’ll ask around to find one. We might could try to ask those who were in the game to testify, but without a barrister to help, it might go bad for you. On the way home in the morning I’ll tell Miranda kinda easy like, that things are going to be okay. I’m headed back upstairs to bunk down. I’ll check with you in the morning before I go. Maybe you want to write her something. I’ll see you then.

In the morning, Ernest repeated.

With that William turned and ascended the stairs with Hank right behind him.

Again on the second floor William picked up his things and looked for an available bunk away from the other men. He pulled off his tall leather boots and climbed into the bed with his clothes still on. Next to him, but under the covers was his brown Bess. Tucked squarely under his head was his leather pouch with money. It was lumpy so he pulled some of his covers over the bag. As he lay there thinking, it came to him how Amanda was really suffering so much it seemed and was so down all the time. He wondered if she could get beyond this and maybe they still had a chance some day for the son that he wanted so badly.

He began to think about Ernest and Miranda again. As he did he drifted off to sleep. All things considered, he and Amanda had a hard time, but the thought of Miranda and the children without Ernest was agonizing.

After what seemed like a short night he began to rouse, waking first to locate his leather pouch. That being good, he rolled to the edge of the bunk, threw his feet on the cold and splintered wooden floor. Pulling on his boots and collecting his things, he headed downstairs. After a tankard of strong black hot tea he asked, Who can tell me where to find a barrister?

There’s a man in Philadelphia. He’s done barrister work I hear tell. I can ask a freight driver if he would get him word, said Rudy.

Back in the tavern cellar he helped Ernest write a note for Miranda. William would be able to explain further when he saw her. William folded up the note and stuffed it into his pocket, saying goodbye. He turned and headed to the general store where he hoped to get fabric as well as the other things on his list, like licorice for the girls.

Minutes later he was at the livery hitching up his team and without any hesitation, this time riding on the skid, he made his way south with the good news for Amanda and bad news for Miranda.

It seemed no time until he was at Ernest’s cabin. He walked to the door with a sick feeling in his stomach. Miranda and her five children would be hard pressed to get along without Ernest. Fortunately her two boys Paul 14 and Stephen 15 could carry much of the work. When Miranda opened the door you could see in her face she prepared for the worst.

Now Miranda, it ain’t all that bad. Ernest is fine.

She beckoned him to come in where she offered him to sit by the fireplace.

Ernest was in a game, gambling. He was doing well, but a stranger went and got angry at Ernest. He swore Ernest was cheating.

Well it turned into a fight, and the stranger died. Ernest is going to have to stay there just till the magistrate can look into it.

Somewhat relieved, she asked, How long will it be?

Maybe four or five weeks, he replied, But I reckon that between us and your boys, we can do just fine. I really think that aside from Ernest being gone for a time, things will work out. And besides, he won £12 from his gambling. That’s a lot of money. Well, I need to be on my way home. If you need us, send word.

With that William headed to the door. The children now standing around the room were dumb stricken with the news. April, the five-year-old, was working to hold back the tears at the news about daddy.

It was mid afternoon when he reached his place. Amanda and the girls excitedly met him at the door, anxiously expecting the things from town. Amanda hushed the girls as she helped him off with his coat and boots. He already brushed down and fed Rooster and Lizzie. They were safe in the shed. William was comfortable in his favorite chair opening the things he brought. Amanda stroked the cloth, imagining what she could do to turn it into a Sunday meeting dress. It was fine dark blue cotton. He also purchased lace for the neck, arms and hems.

She squeezed William’s hand, thanking him for his thoughtfulness of her. The girls each had five pieces of licorice. Amanda asked them to put up four pieces for another time. It was so good to be together, safe and happy. Amanda sat close to William and enjoyed his being home. The fire glowed and danced as they sat in its warmth and in the closeness they felt for one another.

Soon it was time for the girls to get in bed. Amanda asked the girls to come to her, and enfolding them in her arms, kissing them, instructing, Off to bed with you.

Sadie held on close to Amanda for the longest time before taking Ester’s hand leading her to the loft and to bed. They scrambled up the ladder to their place. Amanda continued sitting by William in front of the fire. As she sat staring into the flames she thought to herself how beautifully the flames danced and darted about. Things were better now that they were together once more.

William told Amanda of Ernest and what had fallen out to him. He’s not guilty of anything, but he has to let the magistrate look into it before he can come home, William told her.

Amanda was shocked. I am surprised, I wouldn’t have thought he’d gamble and drink that a way.

Away from home men sometimes do things they shouldn’t, William replied.

I’ll have to go to Miranda’s and see what I can do while this is working itself out, she told William, Between the boys and me, we can keep up with things.

The next day he and Amanda placed the remaining £29 in their stone crock jar which was located 18 inches down in the earthen floor behind the front door. They smoothed the earth over it and packed it as firm as the rest of the room. No one would think to look for their money there. They kept 3s 4p for some spending money. As well should the cabin ever be lost, they would still have their savings. It wouldn’t be enough to do much with, but it would be something. William wanted a wagon. He thought to himself that maybe someday he could save up enough for one. With the money he placed in the jar, they now had £57.

Christmas came and went, but it was with little joy. They tried to feel like they were blessed to be together, but Anna was missing. William thought to himself how odd it was that Anna had been with them for only a moment and then she was gone. Yet she was a big loss to them.

The void couldn’t be filled with anything it seemed. The haunting fear of perhaps no more children, especially a son, was difficult to accept for both of them.

The weeks dragged into months, and soon buds were popping out on the trees. Daffodils were pushing their heads through snow flurries that came down occasionally. Following that the wild rose bushes were coming back. The winter had begun to lose its hold on the farm, and they were busy beginning to work on the chores outside. As well Amanda was airing out the house and putting things in order that had gone unattended for so long.

William had been clearing more ground one square foot at a time it seemed. With the team he was pulling up the smaller trees.

The larger trees he was cutting the bark around them to kill them. Later he would cut them for building use or firewood next winter. He was also able to get the much needed sunshine and rain on the ground closer to the large trees to plant seed. He had begun his tobacco seedlings earlier in beds by the shed covered with leaves. These would soon be set out when the ground was warmer.

His planting ground was nearly one and one half acres greater this year. As quickly as he could break up the rest of the available ground he would have almost ten acres. Soon he would have his corn in.

William was convinced Amanda was doing better following the hard birth and loss of Anna. She was making fewer comments about the baby as well. His interest in her was increasing as the beautiful days of spring came. It seemed to him their relationship had all but died. He was sensitive to her needs, but he had needs as well. He was careful to keep his feelings to himself. He just expected that she would have regained her interest in him as well by now. They would have to talk about this he thought.

A week later they were sitting in the quiet of the evening when William whispered softly to Amanda, I know these past six months have been harder on you than I can understand. I don’t want to sound badly, but can we talk about our relationship. Is that okay? he asked.

I know it must be troublesome, but I just can’t endure the thought of being with child again. I’m so afraid I couldn’t endure that again. I mean every time I think of Anna, I just want to cry. It hurts so bad. I know I’m wrong, but it’s like I just can’t help myself, she answered. I mean I know I was close to dying, but my baby girl did, and I couldn’t do anything to save her. I’m afraid, William - I think I’d lose my mind if I had to go through that again, she told him as she began to tear up.

She turned her head to prevent William from seeing her face. William said nothing, but sat attempting to understand what she was feeling. He found in the quiet minutes his emotions were giving way to the pain she must be feeling. They would revisit this later, hopefully sooner than much later. With that he excused himself and went to the shed to feed stock, close the stalls and the shed door.

Soon summer was in full bloom, crops were up, and two more ewes were to birth soon. William was well pleased with what they had done. The farm was doing well. He thought about the girls and how they had grown. They were both a year older now and prettier than ever. He knew they were blessed even though a dark shadow of sadness had overtaken them for a time. God was good to them, he knew it, but life was difficult on the frontier.

Ernest had been able to return home after spending 17 days in the cellar at Burlington. A barrister had never come, but Andy, Lawrence and Richard told the story to Magistrate Hennison. He conducted a preliminary hearing. After a three hour recess, he returned and told Ernest he was free to go. He called it, self defense. Ernest was able to get home and back to his family sooner than anyone thought. And, he was £12 to the good except he didn’t like the feeling of a man dying over it. Ernest wondered to himself if there was a widow out there somewhere with children who would never see their father again and how it would change their lives. Ernest would never know. The thought haunted him.

With things doing so well with William, he began to feel that itch to reach for something more. He was thinking to himself that maybe someday he and Amanda might want to move on into Virginia. She had family there in King George County. The last he heard from them was over a year ago. They were doing well and were farming a 200-acre piece of land. He thought about it and mentioned it, but Amanda showed no interest.

The year 1709 was rapidly getting away from them. It was already late September. Some of the corn was shocked. The tobacco was hanging. Root crops were being gathered. There were 11 beaver wooms in the shed ready to go to Burlington. Next month they would be putting salted and smoked meats up for the winter. They had ten dozen greased eggs in the root cellar as well. The girls were helping in the garden to bring in the last of the vegetables and root crops. The pain of losing Anna was lessening with each passing month.

Amanda’s sense of well being was returning and she would think how her first two children had been normal. Maybe, after all, Anna had been an unusual thing. Her friends were having children and some died, but most were healthy.

She could feel a sense of encouragement coming over her. She wouldn’t say anything to William yet, but wanted a few more weeks to be sure she was