The acknowledged leader of the Friends was a man named Joseph Maddock, who operated a gristmill on a creek about five miles from Ethan’s home. All families in the area carried their grain to Maddock’s mill, knowing him to be an honest man—a rare thing for a miller—whose toll was always what he promised it to be. As did other Quakers, he posted his fees for the various services he offered and considered it a violation of truth to bargain or to modify these charges for a particular customer. Any busy farmer in the area who wanted to continue working at home could send a young boy or a slave to the mill and be sure he would get back the right amount of flour, meal, or grits, ground the way he had ordered it. Although silence often prevailed in the regular religious meetings, Maddock liked to talk, so it was natural that most farmers preferred to carry their own grain to the mill and catch up on local news.

To Ethan, the mill itself was a fascinating place, with the system of shafts, pulleys, and leather belts driving the large grindstones, and the constant atmosphere of productive work being done there. The customers had a natural feeling that they were fully and gainfully employed even while relaxing and enjoying themselves. It seemed that the hard work was done as a free gift of nature—not by the effort of humans or animals, but by the power of rushing water beneath the mill house. Everyone would watch the careful weighing, and the division between the farmer and the miller, either of the whole grain or the final milled product. Overall, visits to the mill were pleasant adventures, a surcease from monotonous farmwork, a chance to socialize and hear the latest news—and the way back home fueled with visions of the biscuits, cornbread, and grits that would be served from the still-warm bags on the wagon.

CHAPTER 5

The Regulator Revolt

Ethan began to hear more and more about the Regulators, mostly expressions of concern among the Quakers that some of the hotheads might resort to violence. Even on his remote farm, he could sense that the community was becoming divided, with the large farmers, merchants, lawyers, and office holders all strongly condemning the increasing numbers of poorer and more alienated men who were known to be joining the group.

Ethan remained aloof from it all, and after their heated exchange Henry hadn’t visited as often and seemed reluctant to discuss political issues with Ethan.

On one occasion, two rough-looking men stopped by his farm. They’d obviously been drinking and had lost their way home. The men said that they had been to a meeting of Regulators near Hillsborough and, when they heard Ethan’s last name, asked if he was related to Henry.

“Yes, he’s my brother,” Ethan said.