Patches

By Frank Vincent

Using historical facts as a time line reference gives my story some reasonable objectivity and even credibility.

Patch has dedicated his life to the responsibility of upholding the law of the frontier. This includes the time he served as an army scout. Later he moved on to become the sheriff of Rutherford County, Tennessee.

After being assigned as the temporary governor while the territory waited to be readmitted to the United States, he was appointed to the position of director of the United States Marshal Service of the Southwest District.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: Feb 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9798886447828

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

Author's Note

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

About the Author

cover.jpg

Patches

Frank Vincent

ISBN 979-8-88644-781-1 (Paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88644-783-5 (Hardcover)

ISBN 979-8-88644-782-8 (Digital)

Copyright © 2023 Frank Vincent

All rights reserved

First Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Covenant Books

11661 Hwy 707

Murrells Inlet, SC 29576

www.covenantbooks.com

Author's Note

The trials and service of Patches is continued in a book that has been published by Covenant House under the title of TENNESSEE. The book Tennessee will take the reader through adventures of Patches up to and through the terrible Civil War era. Although his journey along the way caused him extreme heartache it did not sway Patches from his dedication to faithfully serve the law, as did his father and grandfathers, for the great state of Tennessee.

*****

A special thank-you to

Dora M. Wickson

Translation specialist of the Choctaw Nations

Prologue

Territory South of the Ohio River

Although the Thirteen Colonies continually petitioned the king and his representatives for the right to address their grievances, they were ignored or treated in a hap-dash manner. They continued to be hindered and stymied. Subjected to taxation without any legal representation or recourse, they were assessed and stripped of property and livelihood. Homes and settled lands were occupied by British forces in the name of King George III of England.

1774

To prevent the colonists from inciting an altercation by the use of firearms, the king ordered the colonists to turn in their firearms for temporary safekeeping. As they were never returned, when patriot political leaders tried to object, they were arrested. The arms seizures were the major cause that led the British Province of North Carolina to declare independence from Great Britain.

1789

After the revolution, North Carolina became the twelfth state of the Union and ceded its western lands to the United States. Congress accepted the lands known as the Territory South of the Ohio River. The Cherokee village Tanasi was transliterated to be written and read as Tennessee. The new Union territory was recognized for statehood and became the sixteenth state of the Union.

1791

Because of extreme personal sacrifice of patriots, those that survived the war were allocated land under President Washington's Special Homestead Act. The state of Tennessee was one of the areas set aside to accommodate veterans of the War of Independence.

*****

The Patches

Delbert Patch was twenty-three years old when he accepted the call to arms and was one of those few Patriots who made it through the War of Independence, serving as a citizen soldier under General Henry Knox of George Washington's Continental Army. Frontier woodsmen like Delbert Patch were routinely and covertly dispatched into enemy controlled territory.

During this era, British forces were being pulled away from the new world conflict to engage France, Spain, and the Dutch Republic on many fronts of the wide world wars ensuing at the time. Great Britain considered the war with the colonists no more than a minor distraction. The colonists were outnumbered and outgunned by the British. Yet with tenacity and providence they managed to win the few battles necessary to achieve their independence. Citizen militia units made up of many nationalities, religions and professions, offered up their lives, families and fortunes for liberty. Frontiersmen realizing their freedom was worth fighting for came back from the far wildernesses. Men with stealth and agility partnered up with Choctaw warriors to become brothers of war. Unlike other tribes the Choctaw sided with the thirteen colonies during the Revolution.

During the first days after the war ended, Delbert Patch, my grandpa, courted and married a pretty girl of strong character from North Carolina. In 1791 Patch was given bounty land as a reward for his service to the country. The land was west of the New Hope treaty land, not part of any treaty nor claimed as Indian land. They set out together to begin their new life at the edge of what was considered untamed wilderness. As those times would have it, she died two years later while giving birth to their child. Though heartbroken, that same night Delbert hurriedly buried his wife, bundling up his child, he then carried his son by canoe across the wide moonlit Mississippi river to a Choctaw village. There he was welcomed by the Chahta-sia Miko (Choctaw chief). A young Choctaw woman who had recently given birth was able to share nourishment between Delbert's son and her own child. I guess that is another reason Grandpa always had such love and respect for the Choctaw. He told me many times they were fearless warriors but they were kind people who honored their word. For their charitable kindness he spent several long winters helping supply game for the Choctaw tribe.

He was well known by sight being recognized as a tall muscular man in his buckskin attire who lived with the local Choctaw tribe. He was also ready and willing to lend his skills providing game for many of the settlers in the west Tennessee Frontier territory. Although Delbert Patch could build log cabins, he admitted he did not know how to farm. He could hunt and trap better than most so he hunted for game and traded with the Indians and homesteaders for what was needed. His son Gabriel lived as a Choctaw alla (child).

When Gabriel was five years old, Delbert Patch met up with a missionary family, the Turnbull's, who were traveling through the untamed frontier of western Tennessee. With the spring rains and snow run off they were unable to safely raft across the Mississippi River. Delbert convinced them they were needed right here, at Horseshoe Bend, and would have protection from homesteaders, such as himself who were allocated land in western Tennessee by President Washington. Since they had a young daughter, they agreed it would also be prudent if they began their missionary service here, near the mighty Mississippi River. With difficulty he took his son from the Choctaw family and made an agreement with the missionary family.

Pastor Turnbull was a hell fire and brimstone Presbyterian preacher and his wife was an educated schoolteacher. Their daughter Penelope was the same age as Gabriel. Delbert told them he needed to see that his son got an education and explained he was a widower and he would help them build cabins to begin their missionary service and start an educational school. Gabriel, at five years old, had become a problem because he kept trying to return to the Choctaw family. At first, Delbert had to keep him close whenever he went hunting and trapping, but finally, he was able to leave him with the Turnbull's.

After it was built word was spread about the school throughout the territory. People of every age, from close and far, traveled to start school at Horseshoe Bend, seeking the valued education. They brought gifts to welcome the school to the area and some started building cabins on unclaimed land to be close to the school. Bible School and church services were scheduled every Sunday and pastored by the Reverend Turnbull, who preferred to be called preacher, pastor, or padre as he didn't care for his given name of Lucas.

As time went by, Delbert decided and admitted that he was not cut out to be a farmer. As a young man, his son Gabriel, like his father, also had no desire to be a farmer, and hence the well-known frontiersman and trapper taught his son the way of trapping and tracking. When the homesteaders realized they needed law and order they formed an alliance and petitioned for a Territorial judge. Because of his education, background, and temperament, the voter's nominated Pastor Turnbull for the position and petitioned congress under the Constitution Article IV, Section 3, for the position.

With his legal background and strong biblical understanding of right and wrong, Pastor Turnbull was confirmed as the territorial Judge for the western Tennessee territory. To complete their desire for law and order, they instituted a duty assessment to pay for a part-time territorial law officer to maintain and enforce adopted law. Delbert Patch accepted the nomination as a constable of the West Tennessee Territory. It was also approved that he could hire his son Gabriel as deputy.

Together they became enforcers of good and right, known as the law of the west Tennessee frontier. If anyone was done wrong the homesteaders far and wide would call upon Judge Turnbull and he would dispatch Constable Delbert Patch and his deputized son Gabriel to track down and bring the culprits to face justice. Their badges contained a standard gold star on a blue background ringed with the title Tennessee on top and Constable on the bottom.

As life would have it, Turnbull's daughter Penelope grew up and fixed her attention on Gabriel, and although, by then, she had other admirers, she decided they would be mates. Pa was only seventeen. That's just the way it was. I was born in 1810.

Chapter 1

The Second War of Independence

War had started in 1812 and lasted until 1816. My pa never made it home. The only thing I had of Pa's was a tomahawk that was given to him by his Choctaw family. I taught myself to throw it and always hit what I aimed to hit. When the flint-stone of the tomahawk broke, Grandpa dug through his war chest and gave me the one that he used in the War of Independence. The blade was sheathed to prevent accidental contact and injury. Grandpa said he might have to blunt the edge of the axe if I was planning on throwing it. He never did though and I continued to throw it. I was careful not to dull it. We used it regularly to split the brisket of wild game. He told me he once used it for a mirror to send signals during the war. He had made a leather sheath for the axe that helped keep the steel blade razor sharp and it also kept the polished steel from reflecting light. Once I threw it and cut the head off a viper near Grandpa's foot. He said he was glad I could hit what I aimed at or he may have lost his leg.

I told Grandpa, It was only twelve feet away.

Yeah, he said, and so was my leg.

I understood his comment, and the look he gave me let me know that he didn't appreciate my lack of concern for his leg.

Being a boy of six and then seven, I didn't have friends close to my own age. For friends, I used my imagination. I recall spending hours straddling the top rail of our fence and pretending I was on a horse fighting a battle of war. I remember a time or two when Grandpa had to come out to tell me to get off my high horse to do something else. There was the time when I decided to ignore what he told me to do and he returned and said, Patches, I'm not going to argue with you. Now get off your high horse and do what I said.

I learned to do what he wanted. He didn't punish me. What he did was far worse than physical punishment. He ignored me and acted like I wasn't even there. When I asked Mama why Grandpa ignored me, she said that he didn't want me to go trapping with him anymore. I asked her to talk with him but she said, it was my problem, that I had argued with him by ignoring what he said and now he was going to ignore me. I finally got on my knees in front of his evening chair and promised I would never argue by ignoring him again.

Everyone called my grandma Teacher Turnbull, or Marm Turnbull. She was a real schoolteacher and raised Mama with the best home-schooled education in those days. It was Mama who taught me to read and write and I loved to read anything. Grandma made me explain the meaning of everything I read. She told me that books are only a conglomeration of letters formed to put pictures in our minds to help us visualize our thoughts. If we didn't try to remember what we read, we would be functionally illiterate.

When I was five, she let me attend school but she would not let me read in front of other students attending her classes. She said it might make them feel bad. She had compassion but she was strict too. I learned not to speak in front of her without thinking about how and what I was going to say first. Her greatest objection was the misuse of the English language. She was known to send grown men students out of her school for using profanity.

Pastor Turnbull was more than a preacher. He had been present in 1787 at the Constitutional Convention. At that time, he said he was too young to be involved even though he had already finished and obtained a degree in divinity and was then working for his law degree. He said that he and Grandma met at church and he set aside his law studies to pursue missionary work. Grandpa Patch said it was more likely to pursue Grandma. Pastor Turnbull spent some time telling me about his life as a law student and later as a pastor in a Presbyterian church. The pastor made it known he had no use for lawbreakers. He said those who did despised God. However, Grandpa Patch told me it was good to be obedient before God but he said it meant nothing without love and forgiveness. The pastor told me that he would like for me to be involved in politics when I got older but I decided I would become a constable like Grandpa Patch and Pa. It seemed to me that all those politicians wanted to do was debate. I told myself debate was just another word for arguing.

Chapter 2

The Grippe

My mamma was the most loving and kind person, and everyone said so. I didn't tell her or Grandma, but I thought she was a better teacher than Grandma. She always made me want to learn because she said it pleased her.

When the sickness swept through the territory in 1820, many people were sick and some died. They called it the grippe. Today my grandpa Patch is sitting in a chair at Momma's bedside with his chin resting on his chest. I was kneeling at the foot. I'm not exactly praying. I know she is gone, but maybe she can still hear me, so I've been quietly saying goodbye. I'm ten years old now, but today I don't feel like ten. I told her I was going to keep on reading and studying like she wanted me to.

Grandma and Pastor Turnbull just left to go back to their cabin. They would drive back in the morning to help put momma in the ground. I was also praying for my grandpa because I heard Pastor Turnbull tell Grandma, Delbert is pining heavily knowing Gabriel is never coming home. Now that Penelope, our beautiful daughter, is gone to be with her only true love, he's seemed to have aged ten years.

Grandpa Patch said the grippe had no cure that he knew of and no one knew the cause. He said, Your momma fretted especially hard about your pa and wore herself down. He said, If the Grippe hadn't taken hold of your momma, she would still be hoping and praying and looking up the road for your pa.

But why? I asked him. Did my momma have to go and die?

He said, You're listening but you're not hearing me. This life is hard on women, some die young and some die old, but everybody, men and women for one reason or another, sooner or later are going to die.

I decided I was never going to have a wife because some women like Grandma Patch died of natural causes, like having a baby and some women died of unnatural causes, just fretting like Mama did.

After I turned fourteen, Grandpa talked to me about his age. He told me people his age don't live too much longer. I learned a lot from Grandpa.

He said, Patches, you're nearly full grown now, and I taught you all you need to know. You can make it on your own if you've a mind to.

He taught me how to shoot his brown Bessie straight and true. He reminded me again—and again that I needed to always consider what I was going to do before I made a move. He said there are times when we need to tell ourselves to put everything out of our mind and not let stray thoughts interfere with what we need to do right then and there.

One year later, when I had just turned fifteen. Grandpa had stepped away from tracking down lawbreakers. But this one time he was called upon to track a man that had abducted a boy.

He told me, They need you, Patches, so our posse brought the man back, and we turned the boy back over to his family. The man was sentenced by Judge Turnbull and turned over to the army camp located up the river to carry out the sentence. I don't recall being told, so I did ask what was going to happen to the man?

The pastor said, That was up to God.

At fifteen years old, I stand straight and tall and am strong but when the day came when Grandpa Patch called me over to say he was going to be dying soon, I was not ready. He said he had been putting it off but now he said he had to go. I tried to make myself ready. I know I should have been expecting it. Thinking he could die was one thing but hearing him say he was ready, well, I wasn't expecting to hear that. I positioned myself by his bed and was watching him breathe. I started to drift off to sleep and startled myself awake and when I looked, it could have been no more than a wink of an eye, he had slipped away.

That night after Grandpa left me alone, I didn't have the will or desire to move. Sometime later I finally gathered myself up and trudged the six miles over to see Grandma and Pastor Turnbull. On the way, I heard mournful sounds coming from somewhere but then realized they were coming from me. I'd heard about mourning for someone but until then I didn't really know what it meant.

I told Pastor Turnbull, I lost my strength to care anymore.

He said, Patches, you need to ask the Lord to give you strength, right now, or you may lose it for good.

We prayed, but I couldn't shake the forlorn feeling.

Since Pastor Turnbull was having a bad case of gout and could barely stand up, I buried Grandpa myself. I dug the grave deep to keep the animals from trying to dig him up. It struck me that night that one day I would probably be burying my grandma and Pastor Turnbull too. It seemed like I was always saying goodbye to everyone I loved, one at a time. I told my friend, Sam Baxter, the owner of the trading post, I was going to take time remembering the good times, so they would never be forgotten.

He said, You're right, Patches, I believe the Good Lord would agree remembering the past is a lesson for us all.

I admitted to myself that strength and age don't make you grow up. Until then I thought growing up was reaching goals and realizing limits by facing whatever came. I asked my friend Sam if I would ever get over the sadness of losing my momma and grandpa.

He said, My boy, you ever heard of a broken heart? It's a real thing, you know. You can't set it aside. It never goes away. You just have to try to deal with it the best you can. Don't ignore it, Patches, it's there to remind you that there were good times too.

I was fortunate to have had parents who were engaged in my basic education. Even schools that were available during that era topped out at the eighth grade. I heard most families considered the coming of age to be fifteen years old. Now that I'm sixteen I have fully accepted that I am accountable for all my own actions and decisions.

I was making good coin trapping furs and pelts. I liked to spend my free time reading books. Grandma had lots of books and I also had Mama's Bible to read. Sam Baxter saved the written news reports for me to help me keep up on the changing times outside of Horseshoe Bend. However, I needed to start laying plans on my future and decide if I was going to stay here and make something of Grandpa's homestead.

The frontier farmers had regular scheduled meetings at Sam Baxter's trading post. Pastor Turnbull chaired the meetings, as he was the justice of the peace when marriages were planned and the judge when a legal decision was necessary. For capital crimes, Judge Turnbull continued to turn felony lawbreakers over to the closest army camp. It was located just ten days up the river.

Grandpa Patch and Pa had always called him Pastor, and that's still what I call him. He was always dressed up like a pastor, with black flat crowned hat and a string tie and looked so businesslike and professional. I remember when I asked him why he was always dressed so neatly and he said, I have a duty representing the Lord, and the Lord's work can never be part-time.

I admit that Grandpa Patch had the biggest influence on my life. Whenever I have a decision or idea, it seems I can always reach back and find a guiding phrase or two within my memories of him that keeps my thoughts centered on what is right. Even out here in the Tennessee frontier, the law might not be spelled out clearly but I always ask myself what Grandpa would do or say.

To keep my mind from dwelling on the loss of Grandpa, I always keep busy. When I'm not hunting feral pigs or trapping, I am back at my cabin stretching and drying pelts or doing odd jobs. Just this last week the pastor had me dig holes and move the privies for both places. An unpleasant job, but one that has to be done. Because of the trapping, skinning and other jobs like that, I've always bathed each night. It's a habit. Grandpa always said if I didn't use good hygiene, I might as well just go