CHAPTER TWENTY
December 26, 1776
0415
Captain Wallis signaled for the men to halt. The Scotch Road was almost impassable in the heavy snow. He withdrew his watch and tried to discern the hands in the heavy darkness. A quarter past four in the morning. Fuming at their lateness for rendezvous at McKonkey’s Ferry, Wallis shook his head and decided they could slow down a bit. His patrol stood surrounded by swirling snow on the edges of the road. He stepped off to the side of the road to relieve his bladder. Two steps off the road, his boot slipped and he fell and slid down the small embankment. At the bottom, thoroughly wet and cold, Wallis realized that nothing was broken or strained except for his pride.
“Captain? You okay?” a near whisper came from his party. Lanterns appeared and shone down into his predicament.
Wallis replied. “I think—” Next to him was a snow-white face lying on the ground. Wallis startled and backed away before his senses took over. The man lay on his back, frozen stiff in the near darkness. His fingers curled in frozen agony, the man’s face was peaceful in death. As Wallis dusted himself off his fingers hit something cold and hard in the snow next to the man. He dug and felt cold metal under his fingertips. It took only a moment to sweep enough snow away to see a thin metal handle. Curious, he picked it up.
“What in the hell?”
A black shape came up from the snow and it looked like a rifle, but not like any type of musket or rifle he’d ever seen. He glanced back at the dead man’s face and tried to sweep snow away from the frozen torso. The man’s white shirt bore a ruffled collar and there was a small regimental pin attached to it. There were dark patches of frozen blood on the corpse’s shoulder and chest.
Hessian.
“Sir? Are you okay?”
Wallis stood, carrying the rifle by the handle. His bladder temporarily forgotten, he walked back to the center of the party.
“What is that?” one of his soldiers asked.
Wallis said nothing. “Who has the lantern?”
“I do,” another called.
“Is it still lit in the shield?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Bring it,” Wallis ordered. The man approached and opened the thin metal shield from the lantern a sliver. Wallis knelt to the ground and set the lantern into the snow. He carefully aimed the shaft of light at the strange rifle and examined it. The barrel stuck out below a strange triangular piece. Inside the barrel was a squared piece of red metal with a strange screw built inside. Behind it was a cold metal handhold with circles cut into the top of the strange device. Under the handle, a small rectangular door was open. Below it, a rectangular piece protruded from the weapon just in front of the trigger and what looked like a handle of some type. The dull black stock was unlike anything he’d ever seen. It wasn’t wood or iron, but something hard and strangely soft at the same time. He turned the rifle over in his hands and saw lettering. He could easily make out three small words.
SAFE
AUTO
SEMI
“What is it?” one of the men whispered.
Wallis rubbed his face. “This is like nothing I’ve ever seen.”
No one spoke for a long moment. Wallis looked up. “Bring me a blanket.”
A blanket appeared and he wrapped the rifle inside. “This has to get to General Washington.”
“Our orders were to stay here and wreak havoc until our rendezvous, sir.”
Wallis looked up at the man whose face he could not see. “This takes priority. Are we closer to McKonkey’s or Howard’s Ferry?”
“McKonkey’s, sir. About six miles.”
Wallis stood. “Then let’s go. Move out.”
The fifty soldiers moved silently along the road. Wallis carried his musket in one hand and the hastily wrapped weapon in the other. Where did the Hessians get such a thing? Who possibly could have made it? Muskets were wooden stocked and metal barreled. The strange black rifle was metal and something smooth to his touch. General Stephen would not be happy, but from McKonkey’s Ferry they could signal for a boat and make their way back to the Continental Army. Washington needed to see what he’d found. Perhaps it would even be a way for Wallis to leave the 4th Virginia and General Stephen behind.
Wallis couldn’t help but wonder, as he carried the strange weapon, whether Stephen would even care about such a thing. He knew Washington would, though. That was enough to quicken his step toward McKonkey’s Ferry.
* * *
Dunaway checked her watch and glanced at Murphy across from her. His chin had rested on the stock of his rifle for the last fifteen minutes. Just as she was about to ask him if he was awake, she heard a soft snore. It came again, and again. Watching him, she crept backward out of their position and crawled to the rocks. As quickly as she dared, she made her way down the slight hill to her rucksack and sleeping bag. Working quickly and quietly, she opened the upper sack and found the parcel she’d packed at the Daniels home. She would return the dress to Emily, somehow. Stealing it didn’t seem right and her intention was merely to borrow it long enough to get to New York and find a measure of fortune. The dress and ill-fitting shoes were necessary. She couldn’t waltz into New York City looking like a ghost. Cradling it to her chest, Dunaway laid her musket atop the rucksack. She looked at the sleeping figures for a long moment.
There wasn’t a sense of duty. They wanted to go to war, and she didn’t. Her parents wanted the Army to pay for her education and wouldn’t take no for an answer. They’d never bothered to listen to what she wanted to do. There was nothing to stop her from walking away from playing soldier.
I can do this, she told herself. Still, in her modern gear and warm against the storm, she considered the simple clothing in the satchel and the life it promised.
I can do better than that, she mused. This could be the role of a lifetime.
She removed her helmet and set it on the ground beside her rucksack. Leaving it here was the right thing to do. Mason and the others might need it. Maybe it would save someone’s life one day, but it wouldn’t be hers. She’d take her chances with whatever colonial America could throw at her. She withdrew her compass and looked at the slightly glowing dial.
She moved west, toward the river, until she found a tree large enough to break the wind. She shrugged out of her snowsuit top and out of her uniform and boots. She pulled on the simple leather shoes and settled the colonial dress over her long underwear. There was a thin jacket/shawl that she pulled over her shoulders as well as a kerchief for her head.
Satisfied, she looked at the pile of clothes and walked away without looking back. At the Bordentown Road, she turned to the north. She crossed the Assunpink Bridge holding her breath and scurrying as fast as she could into the town. She kept straight, scurrying with her head down as she moved through the center of Trenton. There were no voices, no lights in many of the windows, and no one on the street. At the north end of the town, she startled when a wagon came into the street from the west.
“Ah!” She jumped and slapped a hand over her mouth.
“Miss? What are you doing out on a night like this?” A man whispered just above the wind. He wasn’t dressed like a Hessian or a dragoon.
She shivered. “Leaving.”
He smiled. “Me too. Would you care for a ride?”
“Please.” She climbed aboard. “Where are you headed?”
“New York. I believe I’ve had quite enough of New Jersey. My brother works with the theater there and needs a handyman. I’ve fixed my last wagon of war. The Sassenach are no friends of mine and I won’t live in their favor any longer than I can stand it. The storm is a perfect chance to leave.”
Dunaway grinned. “The theater?” She scrunched closer to the man. “Then, we’ll be fast friends.”
The older man smiled at her. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you before. In Trenton, I mean.”
“Been making my way to New York from Burlington. Slept in an empty barn by the river this afternoon as the weather changed and the Hessians fled inside. The storm coaxed me to get out of this town once and for all, when no one could stop me.”
“My name is Charles Muir. And you are?”
She smiled. “Diana. Diana… Dunaway.”
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Diana.” They shook hands briefly and she made every effort to keep her wrist limp like a lady of the time. “Do you have family in New York? What’s waiting for you there?”
“I fancy doing something very different there. You see, I want to be an actress. I was hoping to find a theater company once I got there and now I’ve found you, Charles.”
“Quite the opportune moment, Miss Dunaway. Wouldn’t you say?”
“Serendipitous, Charles. Almost like it was meant to be.”
* * *
Under gray skies, Washington realized that sunrise was approaching. The storm continued to blow. Visibility was as bad as ever and the snow gathered in impressive amounts in the forest around them. He looked down at his soldiers.
“Stay with your officers, men! For God’s sake, stay with your officers.”
The men moved as one, heads down and focused on the ground in front of them, through the storm. Not more than thirty minutes ago, they’d separated the army into two prongs to attack. Sullivan and his brigades charged straight down the River Road. Washington moved with Greene’s brigades to the east and onto the Scotch Road. They would turn south and charge into Trenton from the high ground to the north. From the middle of the column, Washington could see them stretching along the Scotch Road. They were closing in on Trenton.
“Press on, men! Press on!”
He turned in the saddle and looked back on the rest of the march. The regiments were tight together and no one lagged behind. Word came an hour earlier that two men had died on the march, exposure it was said. There would be no turning back now.
“General Washington!” a cry came from the front. Several men echoed it. “To the front, sir!”
Washington nudged his mount into a trot. The forward elements of the march had stopped. He reached the front of the column and saw his commanders standing with a group of men, maybe forty, who were on the road.
“What is the meaning of this?” Washington asked. “Who are you men?”
A young man carrying a blanket spoke. “Sir, Captain Wallis, 4th Virginia Regiment.”
4th Virginia. Washington thought. Adam Stephen. “What is the meaning of this? How did you get across the river before the army?”
Wallis shifted from side to side. “Sir, we crossed the river several days ago. On Christmas Eve, sir.”
Washington swallowed hard to keep from screaming at the man. “On whose orders, Captain?”
“General Stephen ordered us, sir.”
Of course he did. Washington felt a fresh wave of heat in his face. “To do what, Captain?”
“Our orders were to probe and harass the enemy, sir.”
Washington bit the inside of his lower lip. His fists clenched at his sides and he realized he was holding his breath. He let it out slowly, enunciating the words carefully. “I see.”
“We hit the Trenton outposts yesterday afternoon—”
“Lieutenant Tilghman!” Washington hissed into the wind.
His aide-de-camp was ten feet away having followed him forward. “Sir?”
“Get me General Stephen. Get him here now,” Washington said. He took a long, slow breath and looked back at Captain Wallis. “You hit the Hessian outposts? Yesterday?”
“Sir, we attacked one of their outposts at sunset. Killed four and wounded eleven, we think, sir,” Wallis said. “The whole Hessian regiment turned out. Some mounted folks, dragoons we think, gave chase but they lost us in the dark.”
Washington nodded, half listening. Adam Stephen was a drunkard and had been a thorn in his side since they’d served together against the French. He’d lost to Washington politically, been unable to be promoted because of Washington in the army, and now had obviously made it a personal vendetta to upset Washington’s plans, much worse than Horatio Gates had done.
Incompetence I could stand, he thought. Insubordination, though, never. The secrecy and the careful planning for the assault were likely ruined. The Hessians would be on their guard because of Stephen’s actions and inability to comprehend patience. Vengeance, misplaced and ill-guided, had ruined many an operation.
Stephen came forward on his horse and saluted. Washington thought there was a faint stench of whiskey on the man’s breath. “General Stephen. What is the meaning of this?” he pointed at the fifty men halted in the center of the road.
“Sir?” The man’s tone was bemused.
“Captain Wallis tells me that you ordered him to cross the Delaware and harass the Hessians a few days before. Is that correct?”
Stephen nodded. “It is. I believed we weren’t doing enough to—”
“You, sir!” Washington raised a gloved hand and pointed at Stephen’s chest in rage. “You, sir may have ruined our plans and put them on their guard!”
Stephen stammered. “I did a great service to the army! I took the fight to the enemy while you sat and planned and planned for nothing!”
“Get out of my sight, General Stephen. When this battle is over, we will speak again and the consequences will not be fair.” Washington waited until Stephen clomped away before he turned back to Wallis and set his tone again. “Captain Wallis?”
“Yes, sir?”
“You’ll fall into our march with your regiment. I—”
“Sir, if you’ll forgive me?” Wallis stammered and held up the blanket. “We found something you need to see.” He unwrapped the blanket, and Washington blinked in recognition.
“Wrap it back up.” Washington turned to Tilghman. “Summon Mister Lee and a rider immediately.”
“What is it, sir?” Wallis asked.
“Nothing, Captain Wallis. Do you understand? It was nothing. Something odd and we don’t know what it was. Is that clear?” Washington lowered his chin and fixed his gaze on the young officer.
“I understand, sir.” Wallis looked at his men. “The men do, too.”
“Good. Speak no more of it, lest your lives depend on it.” Washington straightened in the saddle. “Now, fall your men in on your regiment. We march on Trenton and must move now. Go, now. The rest of you? Move out!”
Washington rode back two regiments and allowed his horse to fall in step with the army. Tilghman and Mister Lee appeared at his side a few moments later. A young boy, no more than eighteen, rode up a moment later on an officer’s horse.
“General?” Lee said.
“Mister Lee, I believe I have something our friends were looking for,” Washington said. He passed over the blanket-wrapped rifle.
“I’m sure they’ll be glad to have it back,” Lee said.
Washington shook his head. He looked at the young man. “You’re familiar with this area, son?”
“I know every road between here and Baltimore, sir.”
“Good,” Washington said. “You are to go to the Congress and bring Mister Jefferson at once with my compliments. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” the boy said. He and the horse headed back the way they’d come.
Lee looked at Tilghman and then at Washington. “You’re bringing Jefferson here, sir?”
“He’s the smartest man I know,” Washington said. “Make sure he gets that weapon, Mister Lee.”
“And our friends?” Lee asked. “What do we tell them, General?”
He thought about it for a long moment. Advantages were hard to come by, especially at war with a superior enemy force. “Nothing, Mister Lee. Our friends do not need to know what we found just yet. When Jefferson arrives, we’ll collect what they have as well and send it back to Virginia. From there, we can see about these weapons. I believe they’re just as important as the knowledge in our friends’ heads.”
“They’d be better off knowing this is in friendly hands.”
Washington nodded. “So they might, Mister Lee. But a little fear could keep them sharp and I need them sharp. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Lee nodded. “I’ll see that Mister Jefferson gets the rifle when he arrives, sir. Speak no more of it.”
“Now then, we have a battle to win,” Washington said. “Press on, men! On to Trenton!”
At the Pennington Road, Greene turned east and spread his regiments. As quickly as they formed, they stepped south into the wood line. Washington dismounted and drew his sword. Three columns, with Washington leading from the front center, pushed deeper into the screen of woods. The walk became a trot as he could feel the swelling rage of the army at his side. Heavy rain fell as they pressed forward. Washington loped through the woods, almost running as they pushed toward the north end of town. In the distance, he could see the shape of the cooper shop, the building farthest to the north of the town and their first assault objective. Another gust of wind shook them. Washington shielded his eyes against the sleet and saw the shop’s front door open and a lone Hessian soldier stepped into the snow.
A musket shot rang out to Washington’s right and the army charged as one. Hessians exploded out of the cooper shop, some tugging on their equipment. A volley came from Washington’s right. Two more followed in rapid succession. With the storm howling around them, the Hessians formed a firing line and returned fire. Washington saw his commanders taking charge of the attack and moving to envelop the Hessian outpost. Overwhelmed, the Hessians turned as one and fled toward town. In the distance, toward the River Road, Washington heard the low rumble of artillery.
Sullivan!
Against the weather and all of the conceivable odds in front of them, both divisions of the army reached their attack positions at the exact same time. Startled German kettledrums began to beat the Hessians to quarters.
“Tilghman!”
“Yes, sir.” His aide was right there as always.
“Send my compliments to Captain Hamilton. Ensure the artillery has their targets. Make sure they hit that stable first,” Washington said. Mason’s greatest concern was something he could assuage with the right field commanders in play. The dragoon’s would have escaped to the south and risked Mason’s position. Taking away that possibility seemed the least Washington could do.
“Right away, sir.”
Washington grinned as they moved into the outskirts of Trenton. Sullivan’s arm of the attack was precisely where they should have been at the proper time. Washington ensured that Tilghman was nearby and ready to help facilitate communications with his commanders. For now, they were in the right place, with a considerable advantage, and Washington’s heart soared.
The battle was on.