The Red King's Horror

1. October 1702-3

Alderman made his way to the outskirts of Plymouth until he came to Watson's Inn, where he went to the back door and knocked. When a scowling maid answered, she took his money and shut the door. A few minutes later she returned with another jug which she handed to him and then shut and barred the door. Alderman pulled the jug's cork with his rotting teeth and immediately drank a quarter of the jug.

The aroma of breakfasts filled the air, but Alderman paid it no heed. He had his own breakfast in the jug. On his way back through town, he was spotted by a group of little boys who all dropped the game they were playing outside the little one-room school and ran to tease and torment him. Alderman paid them no heed as they soon gave up the chase. Any retaliation against the white children would certainly result in a drop in his ability to gain his liquor or being run out of town, something that had happened more than once.

He just ignored them and kept walking down to the docks, where he sat and watched about 50 Narragansett women and children being whipped aboard a ship with blank eyes. Long gone were the days when he noticed or cared. However, when a woman turned and looked into his eyes, last night’s nightmares returned. For her face seemed to fade and mingle until it appeared to be a face he'd seen in his dreams. It only lasted a second or two, but it shook him to the bone. He got up and walked away down the beach toward Boston. He knew he would never see Plymouth again.

Sir James began looking around on the ground in the grove and through the treetops, looking for any sign and any clue that would point to the soldier's killers. When he had inspected every inch of ground in the grove, he began expanding his search, making concentric circles as his troops stood by watching the Lieutenant with much merriment being very careful not to let the Lieutenant know they thought him daft. When the Lieutenant came near them, a glare from the corporal quickly brought them to attention. Sir James continued until he had gone about 100 yards from the edge of the glade, where he stopped and called the corporal over.

"Tell me, Smythe, has anything changed since you first came upon the scene?" The corporal looked around and then shook his head and said, "No, Sir, it appears to be just the way I found it a fortnight ago."

"Very good corporal, assemble the troops and we'll return to Northwood. I want to question every man in the village."

"Yes, Sir James, at once," he said as he saluted the Lieutenant and then turned to the squad and said, "All right, you lot, fall in on this line."

The Lieutenant led the way at a smart pace on his horse while the troops fell in behind with a nervous Patsy bringing up the rear. Patsy's imagination was running wild as he had heard the rumors of the return of Metacom and expected at any minute to be set upon and beheaded by this legendary warrior. Every rock and tree held a new terror for Patsy until they had returned to Northwood.

When they entered the village, the corporal sent his troopers into each and every house to bring out every man in the village. They were all soon assembled on the village green before the Lieutenant, who rode his horse around in a circle while he looked them all over. When he had come full circle, he dismounted and, handing the reins to the corporal, turned and faced the men.

"I want any man that knows what happened in the glade to step forth and tell me what he knows." When no one did, he said, "Where is this Ebenezer White?" "You heard the Lieutenant, Ebenezer White, step forward," cried the corporal.

A man in the ranks spoke up and said, "Lieutenant, sir Ebenezer is dead. He died about a week ago, sir."

"Who are you and what did he die from?"

"I'm Jonathan Booth, sir. I was the first cousin to young Ebenezer. He died of fright. Within a day of his return his hair had turned white, and he couldn't stop shaking. Like elder Masters and elder Thompson he was dead in a week. I've never seen anyone so scared, sir."

"Thank you, Mr. Booth. Can you tell me what happened the night of the murders? What did you see or hear?" said the Lieutenant.

Before Booth could reply, an old white bearded man spoke up. "I heard the most terrible screams and shouts I've ever heard. They went on all the night long until the sun rose."

At that point, everyone started talking at once, telling his recollections of that night until a glance from the Lieutenant to the corporal brought order as the corporal yelled at the top of his voice, "One at a time."

The Lieutenant turned to Patsy and asked which one of the cabins was his billet. For Patsy had found elder Master’s house and had been putting Sir James things away and hastily cleaning and sweeping it until it was as clean as it was ever likely to be. "Over here, Sir James," Patsy called.

The Lieutenant turned to the corporal and said, "Corporal organize this rabble and send them in one at a time, then billet your men one man per house and then report to me." He then turned and left the corporal to his duties and entered the house.

Patsy had worked wonders, but it was hard to tell. An old shack that had held an old man that had never been big on cleaning. The walls were covered in soot, as the chimney had seldom been clean. The tiny windows covered in a waxed paper let little light in and the sputtering candles made from animal fat threw little light. Two years ago, Sir James would have shuddered at such a place and his nose would have wrinkled at the smell, but after two years in the wild he thought it looked rather cozy. There was a table and two chairs on one side and a bed with a cornhusk mattress on the other. Above the primitive fireplace and mantle hung a blunderbuss and a sword. Sir James' bag had been laid out on the bed and his journal sat upon the table.

"Very good, Patsy," said Sir James. "See to the horses and then fix me something to eat. Oh, and tell the corporal to send in the first man."

"Yes, milord, at once milord," said Patsy as he beat a hasty retreat to the door. Sir James spent the next hour interviewing all the men of Northwood, making copious notes in his journal, while Patsy groomed and fed the horses. Over an open fire he then cooked a chicken that had wandered too close to see what the commotion was about. By the time the bird was done, the sun had long since set. As Sir James had his bird and bottle, Patsy cleaned and polished his boots. Just as Patsy finished, a townsman approached him with a bowl of turnip and onion soup, which Patsy quickly wolfed down.

It was obvious to Sir James that no one knew what had happened. They were simple, superstitious farmers whose knowledge of the world didn't extend much beyond their fields or the Bay Shore. They knew a horror had taken place from the three dead soldiers and the three dead villagers; beyond that, they knew nothing. If there was anything to be found, it wasn't in the village. If he were to find the killer or killers, he would have to search the countryside. At first light he would travel westward into the Connecticut territory. He dismissed the Corporal and, after finishing his journal, soon fell asleep on the cornhusks.

Patsy awoke Sir James just before dawn with a tin plate of eggs and strips of sowbellies. After breakfast and a brief wash in the creek, Sir James assembled his troops and rode north. Then around noon they turned west around Narragansett Bay. An hour later, the sharp-eyed Corporal spotted a splash of color through the trees and Sir James called a halt to their march.

Carefully and silently, they crept through the woods until they came upon a camp where two Pokanokets sat roasting ears of corn over a fire and passing a jug of rum back and forth between them. What had attracted the soldiers to them were the great coats that the two wore against the cold. Before the two could react, they were surrounded by the soldiers and quickly stripped of their weapons and forced to their knees before the Lieutenant.

"Well, my good fellows, how came you by these clothes?" asked Sir James. The Pokanokets spoke little English, understanding about every fourth word. They had found the coats in the woods hanging on a tree about a day's walk from there but couldn't convey this to Sir James. Even if they could have, their fate was sealed as soon as the Corporal handed one of the coats to Sir James and he looked at a tag sewn into the inside of the coat. A tag identifying the coat as belonging to Corporal Richard Stuart.

Sir James turned to the Corporal and said, "Take them."

The Corporal turned to the men behind the Pokanokets and nodded his head. The soldiers quickly clubbed the two unconscious with their muskets. When the two awoke, they were tied across Patsy's horse for their long ride back to Plymouth. Their fate was sealed. Within a week’s time, they would be hung from poles by their necks until they died of slow strangulation or worse. That would be up to Sir Charles.

They spent the night at the Pokanokets camp before leaving at dawn to make their way back toward Providence. The journey was a happy time for the soldiers. Sir James gave the men a ration of rum from the Indians supply, and another double ration when they stopped that night to camp some 10 miles short of Providence. Sir James felt so good with his success that he actually joined his men around the fire to tell tall tales of the Great Inland Seas and remembrances of home. He even drank a toast to the Queen with his men before retiring. Fraternization between officers and troops was normally forbidden in the army, but Sir James thinking of his Captaincy to come, couldn't help himself. Sir James often longed for comradeship, at 21; he was not far removed from his childhood.

At the first light they packed their camp and made their way north, arriving in Providence around 10 am. Sir James rode to the garrison where he acquired two horses and the use of the Corporal until he arrived back at Plymouth. By noon they were back on the post road heading east.

They had gone but a few miles when the sun disappeared behind the clouds that were fast approaching from the west. The first few drops of rain sent Patsy scrambling for Sir James' great coat and an oilskin for him. The Pokanokets were left dangling over the horse just in their breeches. The rain soon turned to sleet and then freezing rain, which sent Sir James into the woods to wait out the storm in a pine thicket.

After it had passed, they continued on their way eastward on the post road. When night fell, they were barely halfway to the Appleby Inn, the halfway point between Plymouth and Providence and were forced to camp beside the road. While Patsy cooked a meal of beef stew, Sir James and the Corporal shared a bottle of wine. After dinner Patsy untied the Pokanokets from the horse and retied them to a tree. When the others had gone to sleep, Patsy fed the Pokanokets the scraps of the meal and gave them both water to drink before rebuilding the fire and keeping watch. Along about midnight the Corporal awoke and relieved Patsy, who fell asleep until being roughly awakened by the Lieutenant just before dawn. As Sir James washed his face and hands in a nearby creek, Patsy repacked their camp and they were soon on their way.