The Rifleman Read online

  Rev. Thruston and I arrived at Captain Morgan’s home just north of Battletown together, followed by Major McDonald and Messer’s Zane, Beall, White, and Rootes. These latter three I met at various times—or was at least introduced to by my father. But I was stunned when Rev. Thruston explained, “These gentlemen are the members of our Frederick County Secret Committee of Safety of which I am the Chairman. You may not speak of them as such without my permission or that of Captain Morgan.”

  We gathered on the porch to take advantage of the light and Mrs. Morgan served us tea as Rev. Thruston read to us a missive he received this morning from Thomas Nelson, in Philadelphia:

  “Congressional Dispatch, May 18th, in the Year of Our Lord, 1775:

  “Our Virginia Congressional Delegation has asked me to report to you the following news for prompt dissemination far and wide:

  “On May 10th and 11th in this the year of our Lord, 1775, Patriot forces commanded by Col. Benedict Arnold of Massachusetts and Col. Ethan Allen of Connecticut and his Green Mountain Boys militia captured Fort Ticonderoga and Fort Crown Point, two strategically important and supposedly impregnable British-held bastions on the shores of Lake Champlain in New York.

  “The entire British garrisons of both fortresses on the direct route to Montreal surrendered and all their heavy artillery (cannons, howitzers, and mortars) along with gunpowder and other valuable military stores are now in Patriot hands.

  “Please disseminate word of this great victory throughout the Commonwealth so our fellow Patriots will be encouraged and the loyalists consorting with our former governor turned despot will be disheartened.

  //signed// Thomas Nelson, Congressional Delegate from the Commonwealth of Virginia.”3

  Immediately after reading the message, Rev. Thruston added, “Now, the reason for this meeting; Who here knows where these Forts Ticonderoga and Crown Point are located?”

  We all looked at one another until Mrs. Morgan said quietly, “That’s why I asked Nathanael to bring the map his father showed us last year when he described the mail routes Mr. Franklin devised as Royal Postmaster before he was dismissed by the authorities in London.”

  With the aid of the magnifying glass, we found Lake Champlain and both forts on the map. Capt. Morgan’s only comment, “This Colonel Arnold may be just the kind of stout fellow I should have beside me in a fight.”

  Saturday, June 10th, 1775: Williamsburg, Virginia’s capital, is now surrounded by Virginia Militiamen. But the best news was in the letter I received today from my father:

  June 8th, 1775

  My dear son, Nathanael:

  Please accept my apologies for not writing more often. I am now commanding a contingent of Rifle Militiamen deployed in the thick forest surrounding Governor Dunmore’s hunting lodge, Porto Bello. Your brother Paul was elected by our unit to be my deputy.

  Before being ordered here, we were part of the perimeter controlling access into and out of Williamsburg. While there, Paul and I safely made several trips into and out of the capital and even walked by our home where you and he were born. Unfortunately, a British or Tory officer, judging by the Union Jack hanging in front of the house, has apparently commandeered it.

  Several weeks ago our cowardly Royal Governor, accompanied by a contingent of Royal Marines, fled his palace and joined his family here at Porto Bello.

  The manse is now surrounded by a recently dug earthen wall and a wooden stockade, defended by more than a hundred Tories and about 30 Royal Marines. They initially sent patrols into the forest but no longer do so because our Riflemen, operating in two or three-man teams, have killed at least seven of them from long range.

  Four days ago, HMS Fowey, a 24-gun, 3-masted, Royal Navy frigate, dropped anchor in the York River, abreast of Porto Bello. Corporal Jeremiah O’Leary, one of our best Riflemen, hidden near the shoreline, spotted Lord Dunmore on horseback and five bodyguards about 250 yards away heading toward the river to greet a long-boat as it was being rowed ashore from the British Man-o-War.

  Knowing the sound and smoke of a shot would surely give away his position, Cpl. O’Leary decided to fire anyway in hopes of hitting our nemesis. He did. His bullet struck Dunmore in the left leg but, sadly, was not fatal except to his Lordship’s horse. The Governor’s bodyguards quickly drew their swords and pistols and put an awful end to Corporal O’Leary whose lovely widow Sarah and their son David now mourn the loss of a brave Patriot husband and father.

  Our grief is tempered by knowing Cpl. O’Leary’s marksmanship and courage were not wasted. In darkness early this morning, Lord Dunmore and his family were observed stealing away from Porto Bello, boarding HMS Fowey and setting sail down the York River toward the Chesapeake Bay. Good riddance.4

  Please know Paul and I pray daily for your safety. Until we see each other again, I remain your loving father,

  James Newman

  Sic Semper Tyrannus

  Sunday, June 18th, 1775: Shortly after returning from Sabbath services this afternoon, the bell rang at our gate. Moments later Pieter knocked, entered the house, and informed me the visitor was a Trusted Courier with a message for urgent delivery to Rev. Thruston from Colonel Benjamin Harrison, one of our Virginia delegates to the Continental Congress in Philadelphia.

  Curious as to why a courier was delivering a letter destined for Rev. Thruston to me, I went out where he was watering his horse and immediately recognized him as the messenger who delivered the letter in late April from my father approving my appointment as Capt. Morgan’s Adjutant.

  As I approached he smiled, handed me his .54 cal. British Sea Service pistol and ladled water over his head, saying, “My apologies, Mr. Newman, but I was instructed by a servant at Charles Thruston’s home to bring this letter to you since you are Capt. Daniel Morgan’s Adjutant and he and the ‘the Rev-e-rant’ are dining at Capt. Morgan’s home this evening.”

  I nodded and the courier handed me the letter, and as I returned his pistol, asked, “Have you had to use it yet?”

  He shook his head, shoved the pistol back in his belt, and said, “Not yet. But the time is surely coming. Be careful, young fellow.”

  As soon as he headed off, I went into the house, changed into hunting garb, grabbed my rifle and kit, summoned Casey, and walked outside to find Pieter had already saddled my black mare, Midnight. Giving me a leg up to mount he asked, “Will you be returning this evening, sir?”

  “Pieter, you don’t have to call me ‘sir.’ I’m still Nathanael.”

  “Yes, I know you are still Nathanael. But you are now an ensign in the Virginia Militia, Adjutant to the legendary Captain Daniel Morgan. I just saw you entrusted to carry what must be a very sensitive message from the Continental Congress to two men likely to be very important to the future of our country in a war against the most powerful nation on earth.

  “Your family has been very kind to Lotte and me. We pray she is now pregnant with our first child. By the time our sentence is served in December 1781 we want our Van Buren family to be lifelong friends of the Newman family in a free country. Because Lotte and I are under indentured sentence for violating British law, I cannot yet serve the Patriot cause. Your father, brother, and you are already doing so. I do not say ‘sir’ to be subservient. I say it out of respect.”

  Pieter’s words were much on my mind on the ride to Capt. Morgan’s home. On arrival, Mrs. Morgan immediately brought me to their dining room where Capt. Morgan, the Morgan daughters, Rev. Charles Thruston, Isaac Zane, and Major McDonald were already seated. There, she announced, “Please allow me to introduce a very welcome guest, Ensign Nathanael Newman, my dear husband’s Adjutant. He has agreed to accept our invitation to dinner.”

  As the household staff set a place for me and uncertain how to proceed, I said, “Please forgive my untimely arrival, but I am bearing an urgent message from the Congress in Philadelphia addressed to Reverend Thruston.”r />
  As though expecting the letter, Rev. Thruston held out his hand, opened the envelope with his dinner knife, and read:

  “From Col. Benjamin Harrison, Congressional Delegate of the Commonwealth of Virginia to Rev. Charles Thruston, Chairman, Frederick County, Virginia Committee of Public Safety, Saturday, 17th June in the year of our Lord, 1775:

  “This letter is to inform you Congress voted on Wednesday the 14th of this month to form a Continental Army and the following day appointed Colonel George Washington of Mount Vernon, Virginia, as Commander-in-Chief of the Continental Army.

  “Congress has now also granted, at Gen. Washington’s requests, the following:

  “Colonel Horatio Gates, resident of ‘Traveler’s Rest’ in Berkley County, Virginia, is offered the post of Adjutant General of the Continental Army to serve as such with the rank of Brigadier General.

  “Ten Rifle Companies are to be raised immediately for Continental Army Service from Pennsylvania (six companies), Maryland (two companies) and Virginia (two companies).

  “The Commander in Chief specifically requested, and Congress has approved, the two Virginia Rifle Companies shall be commanded by Captain Daniel Morgan of Frederick County and Captain Hugh Stephenson of Berkeley County.

  “I have been directed to inform you the individual officers identified above (Messer’s Gates, Morgan, and Stephenson) will be notified of their appointments and commissions by Congress and personal correspondence from Commander-in-Chief Washington. The only public announcement of acceptance for these (and any other appointments or promotions) will be made from Congress in Philadelphia.”

  “I remain your humble, obedient servant, //signed// Benjamin Harrison.”

  After reading Col. Harrison’s letter, Rev. Thruston raised his glass and said, “Dear Heavenly Father, we beg You to bless our cause. Shower Your Grace and Protection on Captain Morgan and all who are called to protect our God-given liberty. In the name of Your Son, our Savior, we ask the decisions we make, the leaders we select, and the events ahead be those which grant us victory over tyranny in ways that honor You, Your Son Jesus, and the Holy Spirit in the days ahead.”

  All at the table responded, “Amen.”

  Those of us who dined at Capt. Morgan’s home on June 18th expected we would immediately receive orders for where and when our Rifle Company would deploy. We should have known better.

  Thursday, June 22nd, 1775: This morning a Trusted Courier delivered another “Congressional Report” from Col. Harrison in Philadelphia. The message, dated June 20th, informed our Committee of Safety that thousands of fresh British troops under the command of General William Howe launched an attack on Colonial forces besieging the city of Boston.

  According to Col. Harrison: “The eighteen-hour long battle on Saturday, June 17th resulted in Patriot forces being withdrawn from Charlestown peninsula, but at great cost to the British. During four frontal assaults to take Breed’s Hill and Bunker’s Hill, the Royal Army and Marines lost 19 officers killed, 62 officers wounded, 207 Regulars killed, and 770 Regulars wounded. A report from the Massachusetts Provincial Congress, states Patriot losses were 115 killed, 305 wounded, and 30 captured. The British would not have succeeded had Our Courageous Soldiers not run out of ammunition.”

  Sunday, June 25th, 1775: A Trusted Courier delivered from Philadelphia a document dated June 22, 1775, addressed “to Daniel Morgan, Esquire,” commissioning him as “Captain of a company of Riflemen in the army of the United States, raised for the defense of American Liberty, and for repelling every hostile invasion thereof . . . By order of the Congress” and //signed// John Hancock, President.

  Wednesday, June 28th, 1775: Troubled by the assessment that adequate supplies of ammunition could have changed the outcome of the June 17th Battles on Breed’s and Bunker”s Hills on Charlestown Peninsula in Boston Harbor, Captain Morgan wants to alter our deployment equipment list before our orders arrive.

  After conferring with Rev. Thruston and the other members of our Frederick County Committee of Safety, the Captain used his own funds to purchase a second wagon and team of draft horses from Isaac Zane at Marlboro Ironworks. When I delivered the wagon and horses to Capt. Morgan, he carefully examined them and pronounced all to be “fit and sturdy” but sent me back to Marlboro with a note, “Isaac, for what you charged me for the wagon, I should have been provided with two spare wheels and brass bearings!”

  For the next three days, Pieter, two of the Captain’s Negro slaves, and I loaded the wagon with barrels of gunpowder, salted pork, and beef, lead sheets for casting bullets, and covered it all with canvas.

  Thursday, July 6th, 1775: A Trusted Courier delivered a message from Col. Benjamin Harrison with our Virginia Congressional Delegation in Philadelphia. The letter informed us:

  On Monday, July 3rd, General George Washington arrived in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and has taken command of the Continental Army.

  The Virginia Rifle Companies comprised of no less than sixty-eight men each and commanded by Captains Daniel Morgan of Frederick County, and Captain Hugh Stephenson of Berkley County, are hereby ordered to depart Virginia no later than Sunday, July 16th and hasten to Continental Army Headquarters in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

  Sunday, July 9th, 1775: I accompanied Capt. Morgan to a meeting this afternoon with Capt. Stephenson and members of their respective County Safety Committees at the Golden Buck Tavern on Cameron Street in Winchester, Virginia. The two captains and their committees agreed to muster the two Virginia Rifle companies at Morgan’s Spring, about one-half mile south of Mecklenburg5, Virginia at 8 a.m. on Sunday, July 16th and parade together to Harpers Ferry.

  Monday, July 10th and Tuesday, July 11th, 1775: In two days of hard riding, Captain Morgan, Lieutenant William Humphrey, Lieutenant William Heth, Ensign Charles Porterfield, Ensign Peter Bruin, Sgt. William Fickhis, and I contacted all of the one hundred volunteers who qualified to join “Morgan’s Rifles.” We ordered them to muster before dark on Thursday, July 13th at the old Hollingsworth Farm just outside Winchester.

  This created a bit of a problem for Sergeant Fickhis who asked Capt. Morgan, “Sir, if we’re not heading north from Mecklenberg until Sunday the 16th, why are we going to muster in Winchester on the night of the 13th?”

  The Captain smiled and replied, “Well, Sergeant, we may just need to leave a little early. I don’t want to make the Redcoats in Boston wait for me to pay ’em back for those stripes they put on my back.”

  Thursday, July 13th, 1775: Well before dusk this evening, all 100 members of Morgan’s Rifle Company were “present and accounted for at the Hollingsworth Farm,” just outside Winchester. I arrived early enough with my Supply Wagon #1 to write a letter to my father and brother informing them “we are on our way to join Gen. Washington” and “Rev. Thruston has pledged to keep you apprised as to where we are as best he can.”

  Friday, July 14th, 1775: At dawn this morning we marched north in a column of twos, with two heavily laden supply wagons headed for Morgan’s Spring, just south of Mecklenberg in Berkley County, Virginia. We made the thirty-mile hike in less than twelve hours and were fed and under our tents before dark.

  Saturday, July 15th, 1775: We arose before dawn. No sign of Capt. Stephenson’s Rifle Co. We were underway for Harpers Ferry by the time the sun crested the Blue Ridge. Good thing we left when we did because the twelve-mile hike took less than three and one-half hours, but ferrying first the wagons and then 100 men, fifteen at a time, across the Potomac and Shenandoah confluence took us far longer than expected. We bivouacked just five miles up the turnpike toward Frederick, Maryland. It has been so hot and dry, only a few of the men bothered to set up their tents.

  Sunday, July 16th, 1775: The eighteen-mile, mostly uphill, hike to Frederick, Maryland, would have been a breeze—had there been one. The men are doing fine, in good spirits and cheerful, but the draft horses are really feeling the heat. Ensign Bru
in and I have developed real empathy for these great animals. Each time we cross a small stream, the men help us fill buckets of water to let the horses drink and wet them down. As we passed through Frederick this afternoon, scores of townspeople came out to cheer us on. We camped for the night at a farm about five miles north of the town, near a flowing stream.

  Monday, July 17th, 1775: We’re more than sixty miles from York, Pennsylvania. Capt. Morgan told the men this morning he wants us to be north of York by Thursday, the 20th of July and offers to have us stop there to put on a brief “sharpshooter show” if we’re on schedule. The Riflemen promise they will give him no less than twenty-five miles a day. He orders Ensign Bruin and me to “have your wagons on the road not later than 5 a.m.” We pulled out onto the dusty turnpike at about 4 a.m. but the half moon is waning to nil by the 27th, so leaving camp before sunrise isn’t going to be an option for long. We stopped after twenty-six miles tonight at Mechanicstown,6 because it’s been an “uphill day” and a local militiaman told Lt. Humphrey they might have some gunpowder to sell us. They didn’t.

  Tuesday, July 18th, 1775: We logged twenty-eight mostly uphill miles today and hiked to the north side of the borough of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, just before dark. This is a little “crossroads” town with several taverns, one of which is operated by the Getty family. They came out to our encampment with a barrel of cider and generously offered every Rifleman more than a mouthful.

  Wednesday, July 19th, 1775: It’s thirty miles from here to York, Pennsylvania. Still no rain and the temperature has to be over 90 degrees. For the Rifleman slogging along on the dry, dusty turnpike, it’s tough. For the horses pulling the heavy wagons, it’s brutal. We set out shortly after dawn at a blistering pace. Just as we entered York, the skies opened. It’s the first rain we have felt in over a month.