The General's Christmas Read online

  The General's Christmas

  by C. Fennessy

  Copyright 2014 C.Fennessy, Smashwords Edition

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  Thank you for downloading this e-book. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. This is a work of historical fiction. Some names, characters, places, images, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Thank you for your support.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter11

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  The characters of Anna and Elizabeth Clark and their father are fictional, as well as the character of Corporal Bates, the traitor. All of the other characters are real people who lived and fought during the Revolutionary War. The details about Washington's camp at the Widow Harris' house and the crossing of the Delaware are reported in historic detail according to a number of reliable sources. The details of the attack on Trenton are from the Trenton Historical Society's Web site. Throughout the book, the character of each person was imitated by accounts from historical sources. This book endeavors to depict the struggles and sacrifices made by the men who changed the course of American history, one night on Christmas Day, 1776.

  Chapter 1

  Low clouds heavy with snow hung from the overcast sky. Crows’ calls echoed from the bare branches of the maple and black oak trees in the hedgerows. Brown leaves, curled and crisp, cart-wheeled over the glazed grass. Patches of lingering snow clustered around clumped weeds and the withered blackberry bushes beside the old wooden barn.

  Inside the barn, Anna Clark gently squeezed a cow's teat, squirting fresh warm milk into the steaming pail in the cold. She gently massaged the teats in a practiced manner, while thinking about the dress she was sewing for her sister Elizabeth's Christmas present. The cow’s warm breath formed frosty nebula in the cold, damp air. Anna was grateful for the warmth of the cow’s body despite its musty odor.

  "Papa, someone's coming!" her sister Elizabeth cried from the hen yard, and then ran to the house.

  Anna looked out through the partially open barn door, but could see no one. She left her milking stool and went to the door. Naturally shy, she stayed behind the barn door, peering outside.

  A group of horsemen in dark blue and black uniforms galloped toward the house. Papa had warned his daughters about soldiers and had told them to hide if they came.

  Anna ran back into the barn, searching for a place to hide. She spotted the ladder to the loft and deftly climbed up. In the loft, a wide crack between the boards facing the house provided a panoramic view of the soldiers' arrival.

  The captain of the party of five slid off his horse and looked around.

  "Sprechen sie Deutsch?" the captain asked her father, who stood waiting for them.

  "No, I don't speak any language but English. What do you want?"

  The brawny soldier with a wrestler's body and a long mustache looked at the thin, wiry man before him. His eyes then drifted to the young lady in a bonnet and cloak standing in the doorway of the field stone house.

  "Elizabeth, go inside! Lock the door!" her father ordered.

  She disappeared and bolted the door shut.

  The Hessian captain gazed around at the farm. The fields were barren and gray, with the remains of dried corn husks scattered among the earthen ruts. Two dark horses stood in the corral near the barn and hen house. A small wooden building used as a smoke house for curing meat stood between the house and barn; beyond it were an outhouse and a well.

  "We come for food," said the soldier in a thick German accent.

  Mr. Clark shook his head, "No, I'm afraid I can't give you any food. The British came by here a few weeks ago and took half of everything. We just have enough to feed ourselves this winter, and barely enough to get by. You'll have to go somewhere else."

  The Hessian had only comprehended the word no. He turned to the other four soldiers and gave an order in German.

  They dismounted, and two men headed for the barn and two toward the house.

  "I told you! I can't spare any food!" Clark insisted.

  The soldiers ignored him and began their search. The two at the house beat upon the door with their guns and shouted in English, "Open!!"

  The door remained bolted, so they began kicking and battering it with their muskets.

  "Stop! I told you, I can't give you anything!" shouted Clark. He grabbed the big, burly man by the arm, shouting, "Tell them to stop!"

  The burly soldier delivered a fast, powerful punch to Clark's face. He reeled backwards, sprawling upon the ground. The burly captain shouted more orders in German.

  Two soldiers opened the corral and led the horses out. They walked them to the barn and opened the door.

  "Schau mal!" they shouted.

  Inside the barn they found a wagon and sacks of wheat, oats, corn, and a small barrel of molasses. One soldier hitched up the horses while the other loaded the sacks of grain and the barrel of molasses into the wagon. The captain searched for weapons and tools. He passed by shovels, a plow, and two rakes, but he took the long-handled ax. They loaded some bales of hay and extra tackle for the horses, including two saddles. The captain looked up toward the loft and decided to have a look.

  He reached the top of the ladder, peering into thesemi-darkness. The loft was filled with hay, and two bales stood against the wall next to a small pile at the far end.

  "Captain! This man is trying to stop us!" shouted one of his men. The captain looked down and saw Clark shouting and attacking the looters at the barn door.

  "Tie him up! We can use him back at camp," the captain ordered as he descended the ladder, abandoning his search of the loft.

  The captain decided to inspect the house for goods, and to find out what became of the lovely young Mädchen.

  The two soldiers at the door of the house had managed to break it open. The captain walked in and heard the girl screaming as she tried to fight off one of the men. The captain smiled with amusement and the looked through the house, taking food, blankets, and tools. While his men loaded these onto the wagon, he saw one soldier pinning the young girl’s arms behind her. They had removed her bonnet and pulled down her long, wavy, golden hair. The captain guessed her age to be about 16.

  "My lovely young girl," he said in German, stroking her face gently. She turned away, squeezing her eyes shut.

  "Let her go," he told the soldier, "and go help the others load the wagon."

  The soldier obeyed and searched his captain's eyes as they feasted upon the girl.

  Outside, Clark was tied with a gag in his mouth. He stood helplessly as Elizabeth screamed from inside the house. He tried to break free, but they held him fast, striking him and shouting at him in German. He looked back at the barn, searching for Anna. Had they killed her? Where was she? He agonized at Elizabeth's cries, helpless and tortured.

  Inside the house, Elizabeth pounded her fists against the captain as he tried to kiss her. He grabbed her arms but she twisted one wrist out of his hand and clawed at his face. Angry, he slapped her face once, and then again. She screamed and pulled away from him, running to the door. Grabbing her hair, he yanke
d her back. She kicked back viciously several times, finally striking home. He yelped and bent over, swearing in German while she flew toward open the door. He grabbed her hair again, and dragged her back inside slamming her head against the wall. She slid down the wall, unconscious.

  "Captain!" cried one of the men as he struggled to hold Clark. The captain looked down at the girl on the floor, now bleeding from her nose and lips. He swore at her, and limped painfully out of the house.

  The wagon was heaped with goods, and one of the soldiers' horses was tied to the back. Two others lifted their struggling captive onto the horse and tied his hands to the saddle.

  One soldier found a lantern in the barn and went back to the house. He lit the flame inside the lantern and tossed it through the open door. Glass smashed, and it burst into flames, streaking across the floorboards.

  "No!" Clark screamed through his gag, "For God's sake! No!!"

  The captain gave the order to start the horses, leaving the house to burn with the girl inside.

  Up in the barn loft, Anna came out from under the pile of hay where she had been hiding in terror, listening to her father's pleading. Peering through the cracks, she saw her father tied onto one of the horses.

  "Papa!" she shouted, but they were already too far away. She saw smoke and looked toward the house. Thick, gray puffs billowed from the doorway.

  Anna hurried down the ladder. She grabbed up her skirt and ran as fast as she could to the house.

  The smoke blotted out everything except the heat of the flames.

  "Elizabeth!" she shouted, "Elizabeth!"

  Searching through the rooms, she found her sister on the floor.

  "Elizabeth! We have to get out!"

  The girl lay unconscious. Anna pulled on her arm with all her weight.

  "The house is on fire! We have to leave!" Anna shouted.

  When Elizabeth didn't respond, she grabbed her sister by her armpits and dragged her across the floor. Flames engulfed the living room, blocking the front door. Anna lifted her sister off the floor as far as she could and dragged her quickly through the flames.

  Once outside, she stamped out the flames on her skirt, then inspected her own clothing, brushing off glowing sparks. Anna feared that her sister was dead. She sighed with relief when she detected mists of warm breath.Anna stroked her sister's hair and gently touched the ugly red welts upon her cheeks. Anna took off her cloak and covered her sister. She cradled the girl in her arms, rocking her gently, bursting into tears, crying,

  "My poor girl! You're safe now, you're safe!"

  Chapter 2

  "Corporal Baylor!" a deep voice called.

  George Baylor lay down his writing quill and went into George Washington's "office", a large table in the home of Widow Harris, who lived in a two-story, wood-framed colonial house near the Delaware River.

  "Sir?" Baylor addressed him.

  "When the messenger comes, see that these letters are delivered immediately. And I shall need a reply forthwith."

  "Yes, Sir."

  "And tell General Greene that I'd like to speak with him."

  "Yes, Sir," Baylor nodded and left the house to find the colonel and the messenger.

  George Washington ducked slightly as he returned through the door to his wooden table before the hearth. A tall man of six foot three, and solidly built, he sat down gracefully and sighed. Looking out the window, he watched campfire smoke climbing lazily into the metallic sky. Bare black branches crawled like spider veins toward clouds, heavy with rain or snow.

  The scene before him was a landscape in sepia brown and gray. The solemn silence, broken only by the crackle of his warming fire, accompanied his grim mood. He watched the men huddled around fires. Some wore blankets, some wore shoes held together by rags, and others had rags tied around their bare feet with bare toes sticking out. Most wore scraggly beards and scarves tied over their heads against the December wind.

  He pondered the sacrifices they were making. Other men had chosen to stay home with their families, close to hearth and domestic bliss, away from the bone-chilling cold, away from the haggard faces with sunken cheeks, and anxiety-filled eyes. His force was not experienced, nor was it strong or well-supplied. Although they lacked arms and supplies, they compensated with an abundance of heart; the heart to fight for freedom and the willingness to endure. The strength of their determination would decide their fate.

  Washington knew that his army could not be victorious in a full assault against the well-stocked, professional, experienced soldiers of the Crown. But if his army could be the dogged pack of wolves at their heels, attacking in the dark, hiding and attacking again and again, picking off the officers, leading the enemy into rugged and unfamiliar territory, he might outrun them. At some point, British Parliament would see the folly of maintaining an army that couldn’t crush this rebel force in an all-out battle. They would give up and go home. That was his best hope of defeating them.

  Defeat at New York, at Brooklyn Heights, at White Plains, and the surrender of Fort Washington had weakened the Americans' resolve. Their morale was so low that many were counting down the days until their tour of duty expired at the end of the month. British General William Howe had announced a full pardon to any American soldier who lay down his arms and went home. Some had already taken that offer, not waiting until their term expired. They were hungry, cold, and hadn't been paid in months. Congress was slow responding to his pleas for money and supplies. The troops in New Jersey and Maryland were less than supportive to the cause, and as a result, the Colonists suffered the consequences.

  A gust of frigid air ushered in the corporal and his letters.

  "Here are your new messages, sir," Baylor announced, "And General Greene is on his way."

  "Very good. Be so kind as to tell me what you have," said the general.

  "A letter from your brother, Augustine, an urgent message from General Gates, a letter from General Reed, and another from Governor Trumbull, Sir."

  "Give me the urgent message from Gates and leave the others on the table."

  Baylor obeyed and returned to his own writing table in the dining room. He shivered as he sat down, and blew on his cold hands. His cheeks bore two crimson splotches. He rubbed his hands together briskly and combed his fingers through his dark hair, untidily held by a dark ribbon behind his neck. He tightened the woolen scarf that his aunt had given him before he left home, and blessed her again for insisting that he bring it. Despite the small fire burning in the hearth, there was a damp chill in the house.

  "Good Lord!" bellowed Washington. Corporal Baylor jumped from his chair.

  "Sir?"

  "That wretched excuse for an officer!" boomed the General, "I cannot believe his incompetence and irresponsible behavior!"

  Baylor walked into the room to find the general shaking a letter in his hand.

  "General Charles Lee has been captured! But not on the field of battle, nor on the road to it! He was taken in his quarters at ten o'clock in the morning! He appears to have been sleeping at White's Tavern, over three miles away from camp when the enemy surrounded him and threatened to burn him out!"

  Washington paced agitatedly in the small room, worried about the consequences of General Lee's foolishness. He wondered what the British would do to find out what Lee knew about the plans and current condition of his army. He wished he could trust Lee, but the past man's actions gave him no confidence. Lee often acted to his advantage rather than for the good of his country. Washington was aware of the man's greed and ambition, and previously Lee had disrespectfully defied his orders.

  The door opened and General Greene arrived, wiping his feet on the rush mat. The house belonged to Widow Harris, but Washington insisted that everyone treat it respectfully.

  "Take a chair, General Greene, we have much to discuss," said the general.

  Greene sat down carefully, extending his stiff right leg that made him walk with a limp. At one time he had nearly been banned from the army because o
f it, but Washington recognized Greene's potential as a leader. Washington poured two glasses of diluted wine and they both drank in silence. He regarded the young man in his early thirties with admiration. Despite his limp and chronic asthma, Greene was a natural military strategist and a determined patriot. He had demonstrated his uncanny ability on several occasions, and even though Greene's regiment couldn't hold Fort Washington against the British in New York, the general still held Greene in high esteem. The young man reminded Washington of himself in younger days, and although he never showed his affection for Greene, he felt it strongly.

  "How is Catie?" asked Washington.

  "From her last letter I learned she is doing well, and the baby will be due soon."

  Washington nodded in satisfaction, appreciating the sacrifice that Greene, like so many others had made, leaving families to chase the dream of American independence. The weight of this responsibility pressed heavily upon his soul. Washington informed him of General Lee's capture. Greene's blue eyes darkened.

  "Captured! This is quite a blow! He's one of our most experienced officers!"

  "Yes, I know. But we'll now have General Lee's men, increasing our numbers. We can't let his capture deter our purpose. We desperately need a victory. Time is running out and if we don't achieve something immediately, we may never recover. With so many enlistments expiring at the end of this month, I fear our cause could be lost."

  Greene nodded in agreement and took another sip of wine.

  Washington continued, "I've had a letter from General Reed. He suggests that we attempt to take the outposts outside Trenton. What do you think? Can it be done?"

  Always the optimist, Greene's eyes brightened, "If we have enough boats to cross the river and could make a surprise attack, I think we can."

  Washington nodded, "I think we should also attack Trenton. It's not so large and well-fortified that it would be difficult to take. We'd then control both sides of the Delaware along this stretch. We urgently need supplies. According to our scouts, the Hessian troops there have plenty."