Janice Meredith: A Story of the American RevolutionFord, Paul Leicester
History
Janice Meredith: A Story of the American Revolution
Ford, Paul Leicester
United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Fiction
"Give a knave rope enough and he'll hang himself" he
said gloatingly. "Because the land favoured them at Boston,
they got the idea they were invincible, and Congress would
have it that New York must be defended, though a hundred
thousand troops could not have done it against the fleet, let
alone Howe's army. Ho! By this time the rogues have
learned what fifteen thousand butchers and bakers and candlestick-makers
can do 'gainst thirty thousand veterans. And
they've had but the first mouthful of the dose they'll have to
swallow."
The jubilation of the prophet was short-lived, for even as
he spoke, and with decanter but half emptied, the tramp of
feet sounded in the hallway, and the door was flung open to
admit four men, armed with muskets.
"In the name of the Continental Congress, and by orders
of General Washington, I arrests yer, Lambert Meredith,"
announced the spokesman.
"For what?" cried Janice.
"For treason."
XXIII
HEADQUARTERS IN 1776
On September 15, a group of horsemen, occupying a
slight eminence of ground on the island of Manhattan,
were gazing eastward. Below and nearer
the water were spread lines of' soldiers behind intrenchments,
while from three men-of-war lying in the river
came a heavy cannonade that swept the shore line and spread
over the water a pall of smoke which, as it drifted to leeward,
obscured the Long Island shore from view.
"'T is evidently a feint, your Excellency," presently asserted
one of the observers, "to cover a genuine attack elsewhere
--most likely above the Haarlem."
The person addressed--a man with an anxious, careworn
face that made him look fifty at least--lowered his glass, but
did not reply for some moments. "You may be right, sir,"
he remarked, "though to me it has the air of an intended
attack. What think you, Reed?"
"I agree with Mifflin. The attack will be higher up.
Hah! Look there!"
A rift had come in the smoke, and a column of boats, moving
with well-timed oars, could for a moment be seen as it
came forward.
"They intend a landing at Kip's Bay, as I surmised," exclaimed
the general. "Gentlemen, we shall be needed below."
He turned to Reed and gave him an order concerning
reinforcements, then wheeled and, followed by the rest, trotted
over the ploughed field. Once on the highway, he spurred
his horse, putting him to a sharp canter.
"What troops hold the works on the bay, Muffin?" asked
one of the riders.
"Fellows' and Parsons' brigades, Brereton."
"If they are as good at fighting as at thieving, they'll distinguish
themselves."
"Ay," laughed Muffin. "If the red coats were but chickens
or cattle, the New England militia would have had them
all captured ere now."
"They'll be hearn from to-day," said a third officer.
"They've earthworks to git behind, and they'll give the
British anuther Bunker Hill."
"Then you ought to be quick, General Putnam," said
Brereton, "for that 's the fighting you like."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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