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
As the sun rose on the following morning, Brereton
came cantering up to headquarters.
"Is his Excellency gone?" he demanded of the
sentry, and received reply that Washington had
ridden away toward the south ten minutes before. Leaving
his horse with the man, the aide ran into the house and returned
in a moment with a great hunk of corn bread and two
sausages in his hand. Springing into the saddle, he set off at
a rapid trot, munching voraciously as he rode.
"Steady, dear lass," he remarked to the mare. "If you
make me lose any of this cake, I'll never forgive you, Janice."
Fifteen minutes served to bring the officer to a group of
horsemen busy with field-glasses. Riding into their midst, he
saluted, and said: "The Maryland regiments are in position,
your Excellency." Then falling a little back, he looked out
over the plain stretched before them. Barely had he taken
in the two Continental regiments lying "at ease" half-way
down the heights on which he was, and the line of their
pickets on the level ground, when three companies of red-coated
light infantry debouched from the woods that covered
the corresponding heights to the southward. As the skirmishers
fell back on their supports, the British winded their bugles
triumphantly, sounding, not a military order, but the fox-hunting
"stole away,"--a blare intended to show their utter
contempt for the Americans.
Washington's cheeks flushed as the derisive notes came
floating up the hills, and he pressed his lips together in an
attempt to hide the mortification the insult cost him. "They
do not intend we shall forget yesterday," he said.
"We'll pay them dear for the insult yet," cried Brereton,
hotly.
"'T is a point gained that they think us beneath contempt,"
muttered Grayson; "for that is half-way to beating them."
"Colonel Reed, order three battalions of Weedon's and
Knowlton's rangers to move along under cover of the woods,
and endeavour to get in the rear of their main party," directed
the commander-in-chief after a moment's discussion with
Generals Greene and Putnam. "As you know the ground,
guide them yourself."
"Plague take his luck!" growled Brereton.
"Ha, ha!" laughed Tilghman, jeeringly. "Some of us
have hands to kiss and some regiments to fight. Harkee,
macaroni. The general thinks 't would be a pity to spot those
modish buskins and gloves. So much for thy dandyism."
"Colonel Brereton," said the general, "order the two Maryland
regiments to move up in support of Knowlton."
Brereton saluted, and, as he wheeled, touched his thumb to
his nose at Tilghman. "You are dished," he whispered.
"The general dresses too well himself to misjudge a man
because he tries to keep neat and a la mode."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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