United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Fiction
By the time I had made all the arrangements I had described it was past
midnight. Some of the gentlemen retired again to their beds, but I with
others sat up. My position was rather a curious one. Here was I, a
guest in an enemy's camp, with the prospect of an engagement, and unable
to side with either party. Certainly, however, I could not have been
treated more kindly or courteously than I was by the Americans on that
occasion. A party of a dozen or more of us were sitting smoking and
chatting in the large plank-lined dining-hall, by the light of a huge
fire, when a sergeant of militia entered with the announcement that
several scouts had come in, reporting that the enemy were advancing, and
were not more than a couple of miles off. In less than an hour, then,
we might expect an attack. I have never felt more anxious than I did on
that occasion. Immediately all within the house were on the alert; the
walls were manned; the wooden bridge hauled up, the guns loaded and run
out, and every preparation was made to repel the assault. Being myself
very doubtful of the result, I looked about for a place where the ladies
might remain in comparative safety. The most secure spot was a root
house, where stores of vegetables are kept during the winter. There, at
least, no shot could reach my friends, and as it was on the side nearest
the river, they might more easily escape thence to the boat. Having
found a piece of matting, I carried it, with some chairs and cloaks, to
the place, and then returned to beg Mrs Tarleton to take shelter there.
She laughed at my proposal.
"What! do you think that the women of America are accustomed to skulk
from their enemies when their presence may avail to encourage their
friends, and they may be of use to the wounded?" she answered, looking
at the same time towards Madeline, in the expectation that she would
utter her sentiments.
"Perhaps, dear aunt, we might be of more use out of the way of danger,
in some place where, should any of our friends be wounded, they might be
brought to us," remarked her niece, "especially as Mr Hurry has so
considerately prepared a refuge for us."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account