his eye and surveyed the commandant’s office with a look
of distaste, as if evaluating outdated decor. The prisoner that he
had come to take custody of was Hugh Mackenzie. Hugh had been
brought into the camp a few days earlier and was being interrogated
daily for intelligence about an outlaw band that had been raiding
English estates along the border with Scotland.
They had begun each
interrogation by beating Hugh with rifle butts and clubs and
kicking him in the ribs after he fell down to the ground. But the
stubborn Hugh wouldn’t open his mouth and talk. Just the day
before, they had been holding his head under water repeatedly in a
horse trough until he started to drown. As he began to
involuntarily suck water into his lungs, they would pull his head
out of the water. After reviving him, they asked him questions as
soon as he regained enough breath to talk. At one point, when they
pulled him out of the trough, he failed to revive. Only after
repeatedly pounding him on the back and chest did he begin to
breathe again.
“Don’t kill him lads,” the
officer supervising the questioning had said. “He’s no good to us
dead.”
Hugh looked like death
itself. His eyes were almost swollen shut from the beatings. He had
deep blue and purple bruises on his face and chest, back and sides.
He also had two broken ribs, as well as the broken collar bone that
his questioners repeatedly hammered during each torture session.
This had set back the healing process and caused Hugh great pain.
Hugh had already given himself up as a dead man. He knew he
wouldn’t survive his captivity, so he had decided that he wouldn’t
say anything to anyone during his short stay at the fort. And he
hadn’t said anything so far except for the occasional involuntary
groan when the pain became too intense.
Across the fort from Colonel Barkley’s
office, the interrogating officer was once again confronting
Hugh.
“You’re a stubborn one,
Mackenzie,” said officer. “But you are eventually going to tell me
what I want to know. Of that ye can be sure.”
Hugh managed a slight grin
as he looked at the man and said nothing. It was going to be
another long day. Hugh wasn’t certain how long he could hold out,
but he was going to do his best, as he had done each day of the
interrogation. He had not yet lost count of how many days he had
been a captive. He still remembered Robert’s last words to him as
he lay on the ground near the farmhouse, “Don’t give up hope,
Hugh.” But he knew that he was slipping fast.
Back in his office, the
commandant finished reading the orders handed to him by the major.
“I’m sorry, Major, but I cannot fulfill your orders at this time,”
said the commandant to the very bored Major Leyden Thomas, who sat
across the desk from him.
“May I ask why not? Is there
something wrong with the orders?” asked the major.
“No Major, the orders are
valid and correct. It’s just that the prisoner you seek is still
under interrogation and may be so for many more days.”
“Ah, well, General Howe will
be sorely disappointed,” replied the major, standing and
straightening his uniform while preparing to walk out of the
commandant’s office. “I will be on my way to report back to the
general the results of my fruitless mission for him.”
At the mention of General
Howe’s name, the commandant immediately stood up and said, “Ah,
let’s not be too hasty, Major. If you will follow me, we can double
check to see if the questioning has concluded or progressed far
enough for me to release the prisoner to you and the
general.”
“ As you wish,” replied the
major with an exasperated expression.
He followed the commandant
across the fort to a one-room outbuilding behind the stables that
was normally used for tack storage and saddle and harness repair.
They walked into the outbuilding to find the interrogation getting
underway. As the pair walked in, the officer conducting the
interrogation stood and walked up
of distaste, as if evaluating outdated decor. The prisoner that he
had come to take custody of was Hugh Mackenzie. Hugh had been
brought into the camp a few days earlier and was being interrogated
daily for intelligence about an outlaw band that had been raiding
English estates along the border with Scotland.
They had begun each
interrogation by beating Hugh with rifle butts and clubs and
kicking him in the ribs after he fell down to the ground. But the
stubborn Hugh wouldn’t open his mouth and talk. Just the day
before, they had been holding his head under water repeatedly in a
horse trough until he started to drown. As he began to
involuntarily suck water into his lungs, they would pull his head
out of the water. After reviving him, they asked him questions as
soon as he regained enough breath to talk. At one point, when they
pulled him out of the trough, he failed to revive. Only after
repeatedly pounding him on the back and chest did he begin to
breathe again.
“Don’t kill him lads,” the
officer supervising the questioning had said. “He’s no good to us
dead.”
Hugh looked like death
itself. His eyes were almost swollen shut from the beatings. He had
deep blue and purple bruises on his face and chest, back and sides.
He also had two broken ribs, as well as the broken collar bone that
his questioners repeatedly hammered during each torture session.
This had set back the healing process and caused Hugh great pain.
Hugh had already given himself up as a dead man. He knew he
wouldn’t survive his captivity, so he had decided that he wouldn’t
say anything to anyone during his short stay at the fort. And he
hadn’t said anything so far except for the occasional involuntary
groan when the pain became too intense.
Across the fort from Colonel Barkley’s
office, the interrogating officer was once again confronting
Hugh.
“You’re a stubborn one,
Mackenzie,” said officer. “But you are eventually going to tell me
what I want to know. Of that ye can be sure.”
Hugh managed a slight grin
as he looked at the man and said nothing. It was going to be
another long day. Hugh wasn’t certain how long he could hold out,
but he was going to do his best, as he had done each day of the
interrogation. He had not yet lost count of how many days he had
been a captive. He still remembered Robert’s last words to him as
he lay on the ground near the farmhouse, “Don’t give up hope,
Hugh.” But he knew that he was slipping fast.
Back in his office, the
commandant finished reading the orders handed to him by the major.
“I’m sorry, Major, but I cannot fulfill your orders at this time,”
said the commandant to the very bored Major Leyden Thomas, who sat
across the desk from him.
“May I ask why not? Is there
something wrong with the orders?” asked the major.
“No Major, the orders are
valid and correct. It’s just that the prisoner you seek is still
under interrogation and may be so for many more days.”
“Ah, well, General Howe will
be sorely disappointed,” replied the major, standing and
straightening his uniform while preparing to walk out of the
commandant’s office. “I will be on my way to report back to the
general the results of my fruitless mission for him.”
At the mention of General
Howe’s name, the commandant immediately stood up and said, “Ah,
let’s not be too hasty, Major. If you will follow me, we can double
check to see if the questioning has concluded or progressed far
enough for me to release the prisoner to you and the
general.”
“ As you wish,” replied the
major with an exasperated expression.
He followed the commandant
across the fort to a one-room outbuilding behind the stables that
was normally used for tack storage and saddle and harness repair.
They walked into the outbuilding to find the interrogation getting
underway. As the pair walked in, the officer conducting the
interrogation stood and walked up
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