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
"Can your Excellency suggest any more moderate terms to
apply to such a night?" asked Brereton, with a laugh.
"Be thankful you've something between you and the river,
my boy. Twenty-four years ago this very week I was returning
from a mission to the Ohio, and to cross a river we made a raft
of logs. The ice surged against us so forcibly that I set out my
pole to prevent our being swept down the stream; but the
rapidity of the current threw the raft with so much violence
against the pole that it jerked me out into ten feet of water, and
I was like to have drowned. This wind and sleet seem warm
when I remember that; and had Gates and Cadwallader been
there, the storm and ice of to-night would not have seemed to
them such obstacles. 'T was my first public service," he added
after a slight pause. "Who knows that to-night may not be my
last?"
"'T is ever a possibility," spoke up Webb, "since your Excellency
is so reckless in exposing yourself to the enemy's fire."
Washington shrugged his shoulders. "I am in more danger
from the rear than from the enemy," he said equably.
"Ay," agreed Jack, "but we fight both to-night. Give us
victory at Trenton, and we need not spend thought on Baltimore."
"Congress is too frightened itself--" began Baylor, but a
touch on his arm from the commander-in-chief checked the
indiscreet speech.
Departure had been taken from the Pennsylvania shore before
ten; but ice, wind, and current made the crossing so laborious
and slow that a landing of the first detachment was not effected
till nearly twelve. Then the boats were sent back for their
second load, the advance meanwhile huddling together wherever
there was the slightest shelter from the blast and the hail that
was now cutting mercilessly. Not till three o'clock did the
second division land, and another hour was lost in the formation
of the column. At last, however, the order to march could be
given, and the twenty-four hundred weary, besoaked, and wellnigh
frozen men set off through the blinding storm on the nine-mile
march to Trenton.
At Yardley's Ferry the force divided, Sullivan's division
keeping to the river turnpike, intending to enter Trenton from
the south, while the main division took the cross-road, so as to
come out to the north of the town, the plan being to place the
enemy thus betwixt two fires.
Owing to the delay in crossing the river, it was daylight when
the outskirts of the town were reached, but the falling snow
veiled the advance, and here the column was halted temporarily
to permit of a reconnoissance. While the troops stood at ease
an aide from Sullivan's detachment reported that it had arrived
on the other side of the village, and was ready for the attack,
save that their cartridges were too damp to use.
"Very well, sir," ordered Washington. "Return and tell
General Sullivan he must rely on the bayonet."
"Your Excellency," said Colonel Hand, stepping up, "my
regiment is in the same plight, and our rifles carry no bayonets."
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