The General's Christmas by C. Metzinger Read Free Book Online

rock and closed his eyes. In the
darkness and cold he drifted into sleep immediately.
    Ten minutes later, the company began the
uphill move again. Someone gave the sleeping soldier a shake and
told him to get up.
    “Come on, William! It’s time to march!”
    William didn’t move. His friend shook him
again.
    “William!”
    William’s body tilted like a felled tree and
toppled into the snow, molded in a sitting position.
    Others came to help, but one declared, “He’s
dead! Frozen solid!”
    There was nothing they could do for William.
They rejoined the marching regiment and left William’s body where
it lay. Others who passed by realized that William’s fate would be
their own if they stopped moving.
    Later, a supply wagon stopped and two
soldiers lifted William’s frozen body onto the back of it. There
was no time to mourn. He would be buried later with the others who
never made it back alive.
    The wind tore at them as
they marched on through the darkness, with snow driving so hard
that they could only follow the men in front of them.
    At the front of the column,
Washington and Greene rode with two local men carrying lanterns.
The road was no longer visible in the deep snow, and only the local
men knew the way.
    “How much farther to Bear Tavern?” shouted
Greene to one of the local men.
    “Not far! Another ten minutes! Maybe
fifteen!”
    Another blast of ice crystals assailed them.
Instinctively, the horses pulled back but they were forced onward.
Keeping their heads down, the army forged ahead in the wailing
wind.
    Washington turned in his saddle and looked
back at the men marching behind him. What must they be thinking? He
wondered. Did they follow him blindly through this snowstorm and
bitter cold in the middle of the night because they believed in the
cause of freedom or because they were afraid not to? He dared not
think about what their motives might be. He only prayed that they
would stay the course and fight the enemy. He feared that many
would not have strength left to fight after another ten miles of
marching through this storm. Had he made the right decision to
attack Trenton? Or would this be another failure in a growing list
of defeats? These questions plagued him like restless spirits of
the dead. He remembered the two young girls who had come into the
camp, one half dead. At all costs, they must stop the wanton abuse
of citizens and their land by these Hessians.
    The land was as important as the people who
lived on it. Owning land was the one thing that gave men both
security and purpose. Land meant prosperity, crops for food, timber
for houses and fuel, ore for iron, and water. Whoever possessed the
land would be the victor, and whoever did not would be powerless.
He hoped these were the reasons that his men followed him through a
snow and bitter cold in the middle of the night on this
Christmas.
    General Washington pulled up the reins of his
horse and stood aside as the column straggled on before him. He
lowered his head and closed his eyes to pray.
    "Dear God, am I a
thoughtless fool to bring these men here tonight? If I am, please
do not let them suffer because of my own imprudence and arrogant
pride. But our forefathers came to this country to escape
persecution. They suffered starvation, wars, and plagues to create
a homeland for their progeny. Are we to give up everything they
sacrificed for? To do so would make their sacrifices meaningless.
If we are meant to save this country from persecution and tyranny,
and if we are meant to be free, then let our efforts and your mercy
grant us a victory today. Amen."
    “There ‘tis!” shouted one of the local men,
holding up his lantern, “Bear Tavern!”
     
     

Chapter 7

    While Washington and his
forces were marching through relentless wind and sleet to their
ferry crossings, General Horatio Gates, commander of the
Continental forces in New York, had arrived in Baltimore on
Christmas Eve. Upon his arrival in Baltimore, Gates contacted