Let's Go for a Walk ...

Source

Edward Kirk, Silus Montgomery, and Enoch Kersey were sitting comfortably by the fireplace in Kirk's place of business. Kirk was a cobbler by trade and a budding revolutionary. He didn't like that the Crown had dispatched more troops to Boston. He and Montgomery had been out to the Common where they'd watched the regulars at their drill.

"They look rusty, Edward." Montgomery offered.

"Time at sea will make any landsman wobbly and weak after a week or two on the bounding main." Kirk said. He would know. As a young man he'd been with the troops that captured Louisbourg from the French in '58.

Kersey scoffed, "They'll be fit for action soon enough, Silus." Turning to Kirk, he asked, "Is there to be a muster this weekend?"

"Yes, not for all the men, just the officers. We need contingencies for this new situation. I fear that General Gage means to make use of these new regiments once they're fit for service."

"So tell me, Major, how many companies of the 29th are present here in Boston." Colonel Sir William Haversham looked up at Major Winston Avery, in temporary command of the 29th.

"Four companies, Sir. Two more are awaiting shipping from Halifax, another is posted in Maryland, two more are presently in New York. I'm not sure if General Gage plans to send them here or not. Most of my companies are understrength, averaging no more than fifty men each." Avery answered.

"Not much to overawe the colonials are they?" The Colonel took a pinch of snuff, sneezed, then looked again at Avery. He hadn't offered the Major any snuff.

"Give me a few more days, Sir, then they'll be more than fit for these rabble militiamen."

Haversham stood up and paced to the window. He glanced outside, he swore he saw a few snowflakes in the air. He shivered, then bellowed, "Maxwell! Get in here and stoke this bloody fire, d'ye wish your colonel to die of this bitter air?"

Oswald Maxwell, the Colonel's batman hustled in and began to work the fireplace. Soon he had it going nicely.

Avery did not relish heading back out to the Common, where his men were still under canvas. Eventually Haversham turned from the window, nodded at the Major and said, dismissively, "That will be all, Avery. Get back to your regiment."

Avery made a slight bow, "Sir Winston." Then he turned and headed back into the cold.

"Just got word from Elijah Pickart down Quincy way, he's mustered his company and plans on drilling them the entire weekend, save for Sunday services, of course." Enoch Kersey made this announcement as he discarded his gloves and warmed his hands by Mrs. Kirk's kitchen fireplace.

"Hhmm, I suppose we should do the same. I don't think this snow will continue, too early in the year for a blow, I think." Edward Kirk could smell his wife's stew, it was nearly ready.

"Care to stay for dinner, Enoch?" Mrs. Kirk offered as she started setting out plates and cutlery.

"Why thank you, Patience, if your honorable spouse does not mind?" Kersey said, smiling at Mr. Kirk.

"Mind, of course I mind, you eat more than two men together!"

Though Kersey was as thin as a rail, the man could eat prodigious amounts of food. As he never seemed to sit still for a moment, he burned through most of what he ate rather quickly. He sniffed and said, "Well then, I'll go where I'm wanted then."

"Nonsense, sit down, I'll fix you a plate." Mrs. Kirk said as she swatted at her husband with a ladle.

"Not even King in my own castle, damned shame that is!" Kirk exclaimed.

"Mind your language, Edward!"

This time she made contact with the ladle.

Captain Gilbert was drilling his company hard. The men were still clumsy, many were new recruits. He had his eye on Burton, though the man was always trying to shirk his camp duties, he was a natural soldier. He watched as the man offered advice to one of the new men.

"Ya know, Burton, if ye weren't such a layabout, you might make a good soldier!" Sergeant Miller barked at the man.

"Thank you, Sergeant!" Burton barked.

"You're a cheeky bugger you are! Now, Company 'SHUN!"

As the men snapped to attention, Gilbert heard a voice behind him, it was the Major.

"Your lads are looking well, Thomas."

Gilbert made a slight bow, "Major. Why do I sense you have a task for us?"

"Ah, because I do dear boy. A walk in the Massachusetts countryside, interested?"

"Do I have a choice, Sir?"

"Of course not. Trust me, the men will enjoy the exercise."

"What's the task, Sir?"

"A patrol out to Somerville and back. We want the colonials to get used to seeing the troops out in the countryside. If we stay cooped up here in Boston, who knows what mischief the bastards will get up to out in the countryside?"

"Very good, Sir. When do you want this patrol to head out?"

"Tomorrow, I should think, be on the road before sunrise. Questions?"

"No Sir, I'll see to it. Might I take the entire company?"

"Of course, I want the locals to see His Majesty's soldiers in force. Let them know what they are up against should trouble arise."

"Very well, Sir."

When the Major left, Gilbert called his sergeants, Miller and Teegarden, over. "Dismiss the men back to camp, have them prepare their haversacks and equipment for ..." he thought for a moment, "an entire day, perhaps a march of ten miles or more."

"Will ye be wanting yer horse, Sir?" Teegarden asked.

"Yes, I should think so. Don't want the locals seeing one His Majesty's officers trudging along the road like a commoner, do we?"

"Course not, Sir."

The two sergeants went off to see to the soldiers, to get them fed and to see to it that they got their kit together, then got a good night's rest. As for Gilbert, he decided that a warm place next to the fire at his favorite tavern and a strong drink would be just the thing right then.

And if the ladies were inviting?

Might be just the right thing indeed.