Patriots: Boston

Chapter Twenty One: Here Comes the General

It was the morning of July the second. I was sweeping the floor of the store and my father was working.
"Have you read your friend's article in the Gazette? It was very well written," my father said.
"I haven't read it yet," I replied, "but I'm sure it's great. He interviewed Zeb for it."
"Speaking of Zeb, where is he?" My father asked, looking around. "He's usually up working and has been for hours by now on most days."
"I haven't seen him. Did he leave a note anywhere?" I asked absentmindedly.
Suddenly Zeb burst into the store, already in his jacket and hat that he wore when he was going to battle. "Liza! Mr. Byers! You'll never guess what I just heard!" He exclaimed enthusiastically.
"Zebulun, where have you been?" My father demanded.
"I'm sorry, sir, out and about with a few comrades of mine from the militia. We're getting a general! He's arriving today in Cambridge! I hear he's a good one too, very well qualified, and he's rich! The congress doesn't just appoint nobodies, you know! We'll officially be a continental army!" Zeb explained, bursting with excitement.
"I've heard of this general," my father said with a smile. "I hear he is a Virginian with a successful military career, and he lives on a big plantation in Virginia..."
"Is he a slave master?" I interrupted.
"Well, why would you ask that?" Zeb asked. "I'm sure he has slaves working on his land. All plantations do..."
"How great can he be then?" I asked stiffly. "Slavery is terribly immoral!"
"You're right, Liza, it is," my father began, "but just because he may have a few people looking after his land for free doesn't make him a bad general."
"Mr. Byers, may I go to Cambridge today to see the general? I've already enlisted in the continental army...oh! I may have forgotten to ask your permission about that..." Zeb said, shrinking a little.
My father sighed. "Alright, Zebulun. Go ahead and see the general today, but I expect you to help me find your replacement for when you're gone. You still have a home with us to come to, but you obviously can't be here as much as I need you."
"Thank you, Mr. Byers! I promise I will help you find my replacement as soon as I can!" Zeb said gratefully.
"Papa," I asked, "may I go to see the general too?"
"I thought you didn't like the fact that he had slaves," My father eyed me suspiciously.
"I don't, but I'd like to see who is taking control of our army and leading us to victory," I said, sort of embarrassed.
"I guess you can go and see the general, as long as Zebulun goes with you and you stay out of trouble," my father said.
"We will," Zeb and I said in unison.
I found my ruffled cap and some of Isaac's old boots and followed Zeb grabbed his stolen gun. I reached for my father's hunting rifle but he stopped me.
"You're going on a little trip to Cambridge to see the general, not to fight a battle yourself. Leave the gun here," my father said sternly.
"Yes, Papa," I sighed.
I followed Zeb out to the stable. He mounted his horse and I mounted Agnes.
"So what is the general's name?" I asked Zeb.
"George Washington, and your father was right, he's a wealthy Virginian with plenty of military experience. I believe he's what we need. We can't afford to have a repeat of Bunker Hill, we need a true army. We need training. We need soldiers, not just volunteer farmers and common townsfolk with hunting rifles shooting at redcoats. We need General Washington."
"I can't wait to see him!" I said.
We trotted out of the stables and headed off towards Cambridge. We had only covered maybe a mile when we saw someone else on horseback. Someone we were not expecting to see. It was Isaac! He had his arm out of its sling and he was riding a very nice looking horse.
"Isaac!" Zeb called.
Isaac waved and rode over to us. "Hello! What are you two doing out going this way?" He asked.
"We're going to see the General Washington," I said tersely. "Zeb is in the army, you know."
"So you've officially enlisted?" Isaac asked.
"Yes, I have," Zeb said proudly.
"I'm actually on my way to enlist too," Isaac said.
"You'd make a very nice stable boy," Zeb laughed. "You can be mine if you'd like!"
"I'm no stable boy," Isaac laughed. "But if I had to be, I would work for someone who actually has money to pay!"
"Isaac, where did you get that horse?" I asked.
"Paul lent it too me. He's going to Cambridge too, but he left earlier," Isaac explained.
"So where are you staying? You haven't come home in a while," I said, slightly worried.
"On the streets," Isaac said with a sly smile.
"Sure," I said suspiciously.
"Paul and I meet up at the tavern everyday to get some drinks and talk about the revolution. Sometimes his friend Fred comes along, but no one likes him," Isaac laughed.
"Who is this Paul man?" Zeb asked.
"A fellow rebel I met at the tavern one night," Isaac said.
"So you're a tavern rat now?" Zeb asked, not seeming too surprised.
"If that's what you mean by man?" Isaac laughed.
"Alright! Come on! We have to get to Cambridge quickly!" I snapped.
"Alright!" The boys said back.
We rode on our way along with many others who were going to Cambridge. When we arrived, the camp was full of men. Most of them were either sick or wounded, and if they weren't they were just lounging around, not standing at attention or fiddling with their weapons. That was not what it was like in the British camps. The British were all orderly and organized. This group of scrappy farmers and others had no real order and were not doing much.
"Zeb," I asked. "this isn't the continental army, is it?"
"It is," he said plainly.
"There's hardly any men able to fight! They need doctors! And do the well ones know how to fight?" I asked in shock.
"To...an...extent," Zeb said slowly. "General Washington ought to clean them up. We'll have a good army. Don't worry."
"Liza! Zeb!" I heard a voice from behind me say. It was Eli.
"Oh! Hello, Eli! Here to see the general too?" I asked.
"Yes, and to write an article," he said excitedly.
"That's great!" Zeb said. "It's nice to see Edes let you come to the camp to catch some real action."
"Will there be any real action?" Isaac asked, trying to dismount his horse.
"Oh hey! It's you, Isaac! Nice to see you doing a lot better," Eli said.
"Nice to see you too, Eli. Are you a full journalist now?" Isaac asked.
"Pretty much. I write, and Mr. Edes lets it in sometimes. I'm not an official journalist yet, still a printer's apprentice," Eli said, still pretty happy.
Isaac nodded and suddenly slipped off his horse and fell flat onto the ground. I gasped sharply but he shot me a "don't you dare help me up" look. He struggled to get up off the ground, so Zeb tried to help him.
"I'm fine, Zeb. I'll get up alone," Isaac said quickly.
He pressed his palms against the ground and pushed up onto his hands and knees. He stumbled up and put all his weight onto his good leg. He followed us deeper into the camp, limping heavily.
"Isaac, are you alright? You're limping a lot," I observed.
"I'm fine, Liza. Thank you. I don't need any help from any of you," he said tersely.
"Alright," I mumbled.
We made our way to where there were many able-bodied men lined up and ready to stand at attention when the general arrived. A few men, who must have been higher in rank, where arranging the standing arrangements by position and rank. Compared to the British army that had occupied Boston, this so called army was a mess. They had the drive and inspiration, but greatly lacked order.
Suddenly someone yelled, "Here comes the general!"
"The general! You hear that, Liza? That's how we'll get organized enough to win!" Zeb said to me, seeming to try to convince me.
"Alright, Zeb," I said doubtfully.
There was quiet in the camp, aside from the scrambling to certain places. Then I saw him, the general. I was afraid at first I wouldn't be able to see over the men's heads, but I realized then that I didn't need to worry about that. The general was mounted on a giant horse, a dark brown one with a shiny coat. The general himself carried himself with such a regal and respectable presence that made we feel a little nervous, but oddly trusting. He was in a deep blue army uniform that was clean and ironed perfectly. His hair was powdered and done under his hat and he sat up on his horse so tall. He seemed like a giant, and it made me wonder if this is what it feels like to be in the presence of royalty.
His eyes skimmed the camp, looking everyone in the eye. When his eyes rested on me, I felt very uneasy. I had this preordained thought that if this general laid eyes on me, he would judge me for being a little girl meddling in affairs that she should take no part in, but that's not how he looked at me. He looked at me with a serious but kind look as if he was actually alright with the fact that someone like me had come out to the camp of his new army.
  The soldiers who seemed to be of higher rank approached the general respectfully and he said something to them.
"Liza, you ought to head home. There will be more official army business going down. It's no place for you," Zeb whispered, standing up straighter and not moving his eyes off of General Washington.
"I just got here. Won't he give a speech or something?" I asked in a hushed voice, not wanting to disturb the sacred seeming silence.
"It wouldn't concern you," Zeb whispered again.
"Zeb..." I whispered back impatiently. "This is my country too."
"Fine, just back up. You shouldn't be in the formation," Zeb sighed.
I blushed with embarrassment and backed up slowly. The higher ranking soldiers walked back to their positions and General Washington began to speak.
"Men of New England," he began, "You are all here for many different reasons, but we all have one common cause, Liberty. Liberty, when it begins to take root, is a plant of rapid growth. Your friends and family gave their lives for this cause on Bunker and Breed's Hills on June 17th. Even more innocent people have died for this reason in other terrible things that have happened in peace time. Most people love peace. I believe to be prepared for war is one of the most effective means of preserving peace. You all are now the continental army. The army that must now fight for the right to govern ourselves peacefully."
I really liked what I was hearing, and was quite embarrassed that I was so quick to judge this truly inspired man.
"Present arms!" A man who seemed to be of a higher rank shouted.
I watched all the men fumble with their guns to hold them up like I had seen the British soldiers do. I kept my eye on Zeb, who accidentally hit the man standing next to him with the butt of his gun as it slipped out of his hands and dropped onto his own foot.
"Damn it!" He exclaimed rather loudly, wincing and hopping up and down on one foot. Then he turned bright red.
I felt like cringing out of second hand embarrassment. Isaac sniggered from inside the tent he was sitting in. Eli looked into his notebook and seemed to have missed it because he was too busy taking notes. General Washington's eyes shot him a stern look. Zeb seemed to shrink a few inches.
"Morris!" The man who had called for everyone to present their arms barked.
"Sorry, sir!" Zeb said shakily, picking up his gun and straightening himself back to his at attention position.
"By God, don't be such a miserable fool!" The higher ranking man barked again in exasperation.
"They'll straighten themselves out," General Washington interrupted, addressing the soldier who had just scolded Zeb. "Who even are you, soldier? It is hard to tell who is what rank when you all are dressed in varied normal clothes."
"I am Sergeant William Smith," the addressed soldier said. "How do you think we should address this problem?"
"Have each rank where different clothes. Arrange them by color or something. Congress promised to provide uniforms soon enough, but until then we will need to substitute," the General explained. "Figure it out amongst yourselves later. Now we should start drilling."
"Aye, sir," the sergeant said, saluting.
None of these men really knew how to drill like an army, and it was quite evident. General Washington seemed a little irritated at their lack of formality and order. Surely these men were strong, but they had no formal military training, and we're not properly prepared for war. There was not a lot of food that I could see, and there were only plain hunting rifles like my father's lying around. Zeb looked busy with his marching around and trying not to drop his gun again, and Isaac was talking to some other soldiers. Eli was taking some serious notes in his notepad. No one looked like they really wanted me there to disturb them, so I decided to head back home. I mounted Agnes and rode back towards Boston. I passed my uncle Tad on the way. He was going to Cambridge.
"Hello, Lizabeth," he said cheerfully, "What are you doing out and about without your boyfriends?"
"The boys are all in Cambridge with the army. The general arrived earlier, so you are late if you were waiting for him. He's already there and they're drilling, or at least, trying to drill right now. They really could use more able bodied people," I explained.
"So you are going back home alone?" He asked, almost teasing me.
"Yes, is there something wrong with that?" I asked tersely.
"Just the fact that all the boys aren't with you. You know it's a little dangerous for a little girl like you to be out on this ride without someone to guard you. Why isn't that Zeb with you?" Uncle Tad asked with a smirk.
"He enlisted. He's in the army now. He had to stay behind. He is supposed to find his replacement for when he is gone," I explained.
"Well, what's your hurry to get home if there's no boys?" Uncle Tad joked.
"Uncle Tad," I sighed, a little embarrassed, "I need to get home so I can go to work. The boys have nothing to do with anything. I just went with them to Cambridge but they're staying there or at least not coming home with me. Why are you so interested in them? They're just my friends."
"Oh really?" He laughed.
"Yes," I said stiffly.
"That Zeb is your fiancé, and that Isaac kid seemed really into at the last barn dance," Uncle Tad gave me a joking smile, "He isn't dead, is he?"
"No, he's very much alive," I said uneasily.
"And he's just your friend?" Uncle Tad laughed.
"Yes!" I snapped.
He seemed to nod in satisfaction. He was totally mocking me. "Sure."
"I'm serious," I said flatly.
"It's alright, I won't tell your Papa whatever you did," he smirked, his eyes twinkling.
"Uncle Tad, what do you think I did?" I asked nervously.
"Well, I know you didn't obey him when he said you couldn't see that boy again," he said knowingly.
"Well, he was an injured, sick boy with no where to go. Of course I couldn't just turn him out on the street! Sure I gave him some food and made sure he was warm enough at night," I admitted. "It's what a decent human being would do, especially for a friend!"
"Friend?" Uncle Tad smirked.
"Friend," I said firmly.
"You sure?" He asked slyly.
"Positive!" I said firmly.
"Really?"
"Uncle Tad!"
"What's got you so riled up, girlie?"
"Nothin'! I just, you know, don't appreciate the interrogation," I said defensively.
"Normally you'd be giggling and protesting playfully, but you're serious now. What's going on?"
"I'm just very serious about the fact that those boys are just my friends," I said awkwardly. "You're gonna be pretty late for the General. He's very serious, so you won't be able to joke around with him. Now, I really must go before my boss gets even more angry at me. Good luck to you with the army."
"Alright, bye, Liza. Say hello to your Papa for me, and be careful on your ride," He said as he galloped away.
  I set off towards home again and breathed a sigh of relief. Why did everything need to come back to this one stupid minor issue? At least the army had a general and we were one step closer to standing a chance against the British in this war that had messed up so much in my life already.