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It's been another long and arduous day," he wearily thought, sitting at his desk with head in hands. A young man, with tattered cream colored shirt and stockings to match, grey blue breeches, rubbed his hands and legs together, trying to keep warm. The
heavy glass panes were covered in frost and the cold winter air emanated
off the panes, swirling around him. He blew on his mittened hands and
watched his breath crystalize into a white vapor. Just a short distance
away a wooden split rail fence crisscrossed down a meandering road, marking the
long road into town. The road was lined with majestic tall
oaks. Now it was getting late in the day. The sun was barely to be
seen, just a brilliant white starry light moving slowly
among the branches of the furry pines and peeking out, every so often.
Snowflakes were making their way through the air, settling softly on the oak leaves that covered the grass. Soon it would be time to light
the lamps. His soft brown hair askew, he hastily pulled it back with
a dirty piece of linen he found in his pocket. "There is no time in which to do anything anymore with any measure of diligence", he thought. As he lowered his head and continued to write, a small lock of unruly hair dangled wildly in front of his eyes. Patiently he pushed it
back and secured it where it belonged. He took to his writing once more. "My Dear and Most
Consummate Friends, as you are well aware my Beloved Wife and Companion of
many years, hath just this week, passed away. It was not without warning, as she hath
lain ill for many days. Our youngest, Todd, hath not taken kindly to
this circumstance and I hath found him on more than one occasion, not
wanting to be comforted by me but, instead, pushing me aside. My other
two children, Emily and Dottie, are coping as best they can and, I am
certain, in their own way. I hope is this arduous event will not linger much longer as I
am growing very weary of the Toll being exacted. But I believe that even in the midst of extraordinary events, the good Lord hath His own
timetable and therefore I must be stout of heart not only for my children but
for other reasons, as all of us are painfully aware of. May The Good Lord help me with my own grief and that of my children. As to our meeting the
other eve, it meant much to me to be with you, my friends, all of whom it seems
are in very calamitous situations and anguished and brokenhearted as
to what they see befalling their country. One cannot help but feel that God Almighty
hath turned on us and wrested what little strength and resilience we were endowed with. Comfort, all around, is sore to be found, Sometimes I am faint of heart and sometimes even have doubted as to how
this situation we find ourselves in, can be remedied. I am ashamed to
say that I hath even argued with and lashed out at Him and then in a
drunken stupor, fallen on my bed in such a frightful stage, unable even
to comfort or be comforted, all the while trying to keep my sobbing
quiet so that my dear ones are not privy to my mournful dirges. Yet when morn
awakes me, I am somehow liberated, somehow different. I feel stronger and more
resolute, more direct in my being and in my heart. But, Lord I ask You,
how much more? How much more shall Thee exact from us? How much more shall Thee place upon us? Were it not for
you--my companions, there would be much more despairing. So much so I
could not last but one more day. Did we bring this upheaval upon
ourselves or did we do something to God to awaken the Almighty's anger
against His Creation? My head throbs yet answers are not forthcoming. I do believe, that in time, they will come. At our last meeting we at
least laid out some topics for discourse and the recourse before us as well to agreeing to certain things. We shook hands and there was a bit of
uplifting of Spirit among us. I felt we did indeed make some progress.
We hath certainly met on many an occasion, and some close to a ruinous one what with the British Loyalists and their spies and troops nearby! But last
eve I felt a true Spirit of Kinship with Thee, My Brethren,in that we have truly become a "Band of Brothers." Brothers All united in spirit and
with one belief....to see that This Tyrant King and his feudal lords are no
longer able to do as they wish, when they wish--To crush and assail us at
every occasion! To steal our livestock, raze our fields, despoil our
women, tax us into oblivion, kidnap and torture our young men and sail them to England where they're cruelly and injustly imprisoned. Enough of This! The chains of
bondage hath never felt so binding. The King's noose has never been tighter! As Free Men we must not
let this go on any longer. We are obligated to G-d, Country and to One Another that we
cannot let this go on any longer. I know
that there are others who are meeting, just as we, in distant, hidden locations,
reflecting on what they are seeing happening . I know
because I hath met with them and they all feel the same as You and I. Yet one
question they raise which I believe must be pondered very
deeply......What price Liberty? What price Freedom? What price are
we
willing to pay to dislodge this despot and his minions and remove this
tyrant's yoke from around our necks? When I look at my children and see the fear in their eyes, their hollow looks, when I am unable to provide earnestly for them I think of my deceased wife, and her very last words to
me.....'you
must not give up, Ethan, as you
will find a way, all you need do is fall down on your knees and to Him you
must pray. After much deep reflection, I believe that we hath our solution. The answers we seek to our situation
do not always come when we want them too but if we continue to be forthright, stout of heart and earnestly seek after Him, they
will come and none too soon".
The large and spacious room was filled with men. A European tapestry graced one wall and two floor to ceiling windows with panes and heavy, faded blue drapes looked out upon a small courtyard with a narrow cobblestone pathway that meandered below the windows and past the building into a small gathering area.
Tobacco smoke curled lazily up into the air as men huffed and puffed, some men sitting in high-backed floral chairs chairs or standing silently in corners with one hand behind their back, observing quietly. Some were staring out the window at the townspeople busily walking by. There was an air of resignation, even stoic, perhaps. The hard well worn, wooden floor creaked and echoed noisily and loudly reverberated throughout the room as heavy boots walked to and fro. The front door squeaked on its rusty hinges as it opened and closed, letting in more and more men. A long wooden table with candles on either end was in the middle of the room. There was a pewter pitcher and ladle on one end along with a fine amount of Rum and a sizeable amount of ale. A small spittoon was next to the table. Several soldiers with swords in scabbards were hunched over, busily engaged in going through what appeared to be maps and other documents. Powdered hair had been hastily pulled back and secured with fragments of linen.
This was a beleaguered group of men as I watched them enjoy comradeship and the waning hours of the day. They were obviously very privy to and had experienced much deprivation and hard fighting.
There were tall men, short men, large men, small men, robust men, pompous men, hardened men, dowdy men, dandies, quiet men, nervous men, boisterous men.
There was a lot of man talk going on, with laughter and sneezes, belches, chewing, guffaws, wheezing, sniffling, snorting, spitting, shuffling, hand gestures and farts.
Outbursts of raucous laughter echoed from one end of the chamber to the other. Here and there a pewter cup would smash down on a table as one man would attempt to make a point or out talk the other.
Rum and ale was flowing profusely as stalwart men wiped their mouths with the back of their hands and held their pewter cups high, toasting each other and to their few accomplishments, enjoying a few spare moments of peace.
One gentleman, in particular caught my attention as he sat quietly in the corner, his countenance one of brooding as his bushy eyebrows seemed to knit together in deep thought, an ornately turned wooden cane with the top of it looking like the head of a canine, resting against his leg.
The light from the tall windows was fading, and one could feel the cold air seeping into the room and into bodies, giving a somber feeling to the festivities as jovial talk turned to more pressing matters at hand.
Darkening shadows started creeping across the floor.
A large stone hearth was at the far end of the room ablaze with a robust fire, glowing and crackling with sparks shooting up and out. Every so often a gentleman would dance a little ditty as he quickly moved away, dusting embers off his coat sleeve.
The old gentleman watched all the goings on, unwavering in his position with utmost authority, taking it all in as if he were natural born to the ordained role he was meant to play in this war during this Life's short tenure.
He was steady as they go, his white hair falling in soft fronds around a ruddy face, indicative of his ability to enjoy and imbibe with the best of them, his eyes a brilliant teal blue as they observed everything going on while he contentedly sucked on his stubby cigar, one hand resting comfortably on the chair's padded arm.
If I didn't know better, I would think I was observing Benjamin Franklin.
All he needed were those spectacles perched on the end of his nose.
There were a group of six or seven men standing around him, talking quietly with one another, tall and slender with calloused hands, good looking with a demeanor of considerable insight and no stranger to hardship, resolute in their beliefs. They were his comrades, his buddies, friends and confidants.
Upon further inspection I spied the gentleman's tricorne hat with a pink cocade. It had been pushed aside where it was not easily seen.
"Hmmm", I murmured silently, "this is a gentleman of some import".
About that time a tall and lanky lad entered the room. He appeared gaunt and was slow to walk.
Behind him was a small child who held tightly onto his hand.
The lad looked about the room and acknowledging an acquaintance with the tip of his hat, made his way slowly toward where he was standing.
Handshakes and greetings all around as the lad happily embraced his friends while the little girl, holding on to his shirt, determined to hide behind him.
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