Sal and Amanda Take Morgan's Victory March to the Battle of Cowpens (7 page)

“I know you read the letter and will come to my aid!” the voice replied.

“What do you mean your aid? How can I help
you
? You're dead.”

“Just listen! You will know when it is time,” the voice continued. “Yes, my scouts informed me of the location of both Tarleton and Cornwallis. I knew they would do anything to get us! And that arrogant Sumter would not come to help me even though I was in charge. It is amazing I didn't go down there and teach him a lesson, but good sense and old age held me back!”

“I was wondering about that when Sal and Amanda told me about how Sumter sulked when you were named commanding officer.” Ben was beginning to feel a little more at ease with the powerful voice.

“Yes, your little amphibian friends; we need more ambassadors like them,” the spirit mused.

Ben wondered just how General Morgan knew about Sal and Amanda, but he supposed that spirits knew everything there was to know about the living world.

“I had all my men to look after. I grew up a hotheaded fighter, but I eventually learned to put my personal feelings on hold for the good of my men and our cause. But no one understood what I had decided to do. Why, even my own men were cursing me because they thought I was retreating. But Ben, my friend, I had to remain cool under pressure because I knew that devil Tarleton was on our tail. My intention was to cross the Broad and get into the rough, hilly country of Thicketty Mountain and wait for Tarleton and the battle!”

“I know where that is!” Ben exclaimed.

“Ben, you know more than most about this war, but I am going to teach you some things no one knows,” the spirit said mysteriously.

Ben was intrigued and listened intently.

“It was the crack of dawn, and we had just cooked our breakfast when a patrol came galloping in and yelled, ‘Tarleton's across the Pacolet.' We broke camp, leaving our breakfast there. Washington's dragoons formed a protective screen around our marching men. I learned later that Tarleton rode in and ate the breakfast we had left. Their boys did not know it, but for many of them it would be their last.”

“What happened then?” Ben asked, completely captivated with the spirit's tale.

“The road we followed was a muddy mess leading through swamps. My men believed I was avoiding battle. I knew I had to keep them intact for an eventual reunion with General Greene and the main army. But how was I to best do this? By taking a great risk and crossing a raging river just ahead of the closing enemy or by choosing a position, resting, feeding the troops and taking time to prepare for the battle? I was left alone to make my decision. I decided to regroup and rest near a landmark known by all backcountry people, the cow pens. This was a place other troops would know and could join us. Not my first choice, but as circumstances would have it, it was the right choice.”

Ben quietly interrupted. “We have a national park there now to commemorate this battle and a march to honor you and your men. I'm going to march in it in January!” Ben could not help letting Morgan know that he, too, would honor the battle.

Morgan continued, “The next day, militia began to join us, including Pickens and the main militia. These men were full of spirit and tales of the cruelty of Tarleton. The partisans were ready to take care of Bloody Ban. I spent most of the night going from campfire to campfire explaining to the militia what I expected of them. I had already told the officers, but I wanted my men to know the plan. I was one of them, and I knew as I saw their courage my own fire would be ignited. I needed that, Ben.”

“I know, but you were the bravest leader ever!” Ben exclaimed, trying to remind Morgan what a hero he had been.

“Brave? I had to be brave for my men, but you must remember, war is horrific and there is not a man living or dead who is not afraid in battle. I was afraid too, but as I spirited up my men, they spirited me up! I wanted them to know that we could do this. I even pulled up my shirt and showed them the scars on my back from the British whip over twenty-five years before. I told them to keep up their spirits and the day would be ours!”

“Wow! That's what it means when the history books say you ‘spirited up the people'!” Ben exclaimed.

“Yes, and it was with great resolve that I woke the men that morning with, ‘Boys, get up, Benny's coming!'”

Ben leaned against the wall, surrounded by the presence of greatness.

“And when it was all over, I lifted my nine-year-old drummer boy and kissed him on the cheek. Two days later, when I wrote my war report to General Greene, I said, ‘I gave that Tarleton a devil of a whipping!'”

Ben sat in the dark for a few minutes, and then he heard, “But Ben, folks don't understand that it was not just
me
that day. It was the spirit of liberty and justice! I was against terrible odds, and I was afraid. We were all moving toward a destiny, a turning point that would change the course of history forever. It was the beginning of the end for the British. We did it, my men and me. They spirited me as much as I spirited them. Now, you must tell others this truth!”

A silence filled the room.

“What do you want me to do?” Ben asked. But there was no response.

Silence…

Frantically, Ben pleaded to thin air. “Please don't go! I have so many questions!” Defeated, he sat there for a long time trying to understand what had happened, but he knew he had to get home or he would be in serious trouble. He placed the letter back in the leather pouch, gently laid the pouch in the tin box and lifted it back up to the ledge. As he turned to go, the wall shut behind him.

Ben walked down the stairs, no longer afraid of the spirit in the house but very afraid of what it had said to him. He hurried out the window, down the steps and out the gate, which closed behind him. He ran all the way back to Sam's house and crept in the front door that he had left unlocked, hurried into the bedroom and jumped into bed.

What a night this had been! He finally fell asleep, and the next morning when he awoke, he lay in bed trying to decide if he had been dreaming. Had there really been a letter? Had he really talked with the spirit of Daniel Morgan? It seemed too real to be a dream, but he knew no one would believe him. It was his secret for now.

*
A copy of the transcription of the original letter can be read in the appendix.

Chapter 6

To Tell the Truth

Back home in Cowpens, Ben was sitting on the couch trying to focus on his speech. On their ride home from Cheraw, Grammy had tried to talk with Ben about the speech contest, but he had been lost in thought. How could he possibly focus on a speech when he had actually spoken to a spirit? He had done nothing but think about this strange encounter, but he had told no one.
What had General Morgan meant when he said it was up to
me
to tell the story?

Ben didn't hear Jen come in.

“Glad you're back! It was no fun without you here. I haven't seen Sal and Amanda either. Did you have fun with Sam?” Jen asked.

“I wouldn't exactly say…fun,” Ben answered.

“What do you mean?” Jen asked inquisitively.

“Well, Sam showed out in the play, and everyone thought he was great. But he almost got me in big trouble!” Ben replied.

He wanted to tell Jen everything, but he thought she would think he was crazy. Besides, she might tell someone else, and he
had
blood brother, pinky sworn with Sam to not say a word.

Jen, smelling a good story, asked, “What kind of trouble?”

“Oh, I don't want to talk about it. I have to get serious about this speech,” Ben replied, changing the subject.

“Want me to help?” Jen asked, walking over to the computer.

“Nope, I think I got it,” Ben answered, trying to avoid her altogether.

Jen was astonished. What had happened to Ben? He always depended on her to help him, especially with something as important as this speech. She decided to try to get an answer out of him. “What's up with you?”

“Nothing!” Ben replied and turned away.

“Well, if you're going to be rude, I'm leaving.” Jen waved goodbye as she headed out the door.

“You wanted to tell her, didn't you?” a familiar voice spoke from the window.

“Good job of keeping your cool!” the second voice added.

Startled, Ben looked and saw Sal and Amanda curled up beside his mouse on the desk.

“Hey, guys. What are you talking about?”

“Don't play dumb! We know about your encounter with the general!” Amanda said with conviction.

“How do you know that?” Ben asked, not bothering to deny it.

“We were there with you, right in your jeans pocket,” Sal grinned.

“But I stuffed the letter in there,” Ben exclaimed, “and I didn't feel you.”

“We were in the other pocket, and you never even knew!” Sal laughed.

“Thanks a lot, guys! I was scared to death. It would've been nice to know you two were along. Why didn't you tell me?”

“This was something you had to do by yourself, but we were there for support if you
really
needed us,” Amanda confessed.

“Well, I guess you heard what he said, right? It's up to me to set the record straight, but how?”

“General Morgan wants people to know that he was not just a hero but a real man who got mad and scared and frustrated like all people do,” Amanda instructed.

“His spirit has been trapped in the statue in downtown Spartanburg since 1881 when it was erected to honor him,” Sal explained.

“He's not a man meant for bronze but a man whose spirit must live on in the Patriot cause,” Amanda declared.

“You two knew! Why didn't you inform me of this when you were telling me about the war?” Ben asked accusingly.

“You wouldn't have believed us. Talking salamanders are one thing; talking spirits are another!” Sal explained.

“Uncle Newt taught us how to free spirits. He learned how to conjure from the Gullah people in Charleston. It can only be done for
very important
reasons though! We freed General Morgan's spirit the day before you left. He went straight to the letter 'cause he knew you would find it!” Amanda confessed.

“We rode to Cheraw in the basket Grammy was taking to Sam's family,” Sal continued.

“I thought you two were in my pocket!” Ben shot back.

“We scampered into your pocket when you were taking a shower,” Amanda giggled. “Now, you have to tell the truth about the letter so that General Morgan's spirit can teach us all how to be brave! That's why he wanted to be free!” Amanda explained.

“What are you talking about?”

“The letter you found reveals the doubts and frustrations of Morgan. He wants people to know the truth so they can learn how to ‘spirit up' each other when they get down,” Sal instructed.

Ben was flabbergasted. He could not believe what he was hearing, but Sal and Amanda knew too much not to be telling the truth. Besides, they had always been there to help him.

“What am I supposed to do?” Ben asked.

“We can't tell you. You have to figure that out on your own. I guess it is sort of a test,” Amanda smiled.

“Well, where is General Morgan now?” Ben asked.

“He had to go back into the statue, but he doesn't want to stay there. He's restless; that's why the folks in Spartanburg have moved him so much…his restless spirit,” Sal explained.

“It's up to you to set him free for good!” Amanda cheered as she grabbed Sal and headed toward the window.

“Oh, brother!”

“We have to go check on a game of Marco Polo the other salamanders are playing in the river,” Sal said.

“Toot-a-loo!” Amanda smiled.

“Wait!”

But it was no use. Ben was as powerless to stop them as he had been to stop General Morgan's spirit. He felt pretty helpless about the whole thing. He stared at the computer and wondered what to do next.

He heard a voice from inside him. “Tell the truth!”