The Continental Dragoon: A Love Story of Philipse Manor-House in 1778Stephens, Robert Neilson
History
The Continental Dragoon: A Love Story of Philipse Manor-House in 1778
Stephens, Robert Neilson
New York (State) -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Fiction
When he was again aware of things, he was still clasping the horse's
neck, and was being borne alone he knew not whither. His head ached,
and his left leg was at every movement a seat of the sharpest pain. He
was dizzy, faint, bleeding,--and too weak to raise himself from his
position. He could not hear any noise of fighting, but that might have
been drowned by the singing in his ears. He tried to sit up and look
around, but the effort so increased his pain and so drew on his
nigh-fled strength, that he fell forward on the horse's neck,
exhausted and half-insensible. The horse, which had merely turned and
run from the conflict at the moment of Peyton's loss of sense,
galloped on.
Clouds had darkened the moon in time to prevent their captain's
unintentional defection from being seen by his troops. They had,
therefore, fought on against such antagonists as, in the darkness,
they could keep located. The moon reappeared, and showed many of the
Hessians making for the wooded hill near by, and some fleeing to the
force that had re-formed further on the road. Some of the Americans
charged this force, which thereupon fired a volley and fled, having
the more time therefor inasmuch as the charging dragoons did not this
time possess their former speed and impetus. The dragoons, in disorder
and without a leader, came to a halt. Becoming aware of Peyton's
absence, they sought in vain the scene of recent conflict. It was
soon inferred that he had been wounded, and, therefore of no further
use in the combat, had retreated to a safe resting-place. It was
decided useless to follow the enemy further towards the near British
posts, whence the Hessians might be reinforced,--as they would have
been, had they held the ground longer. So, having had much the better
of the fight, the surviving dragoons galloped back towards the
post-road, expecting to come upon their captain, wounded, by the
wayside, at any moment. He might, indeed, to make sure of safe refuge,
ride as far towards the American lines as the wound he must have
received would allow him to do.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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