Miracles and Massacres by Glenn Beck Page A

on your part, until our united prayers may be presented to the General Court, and we receive an answer. If this request may be complied with, the government shall meet with no resistance from the people, but let each army occupy the post where they are now.
    Daniel Shays, Captain.
    Well , Shays sighed, let’s pray that that works .
    It didn’t.
    Major General Lincoln’s Headquarters
    Hadley, Massachusetts
    February 3, 1787
    General Benjamin Lincoln was not about to let Daniel Shays off so easily. He didn’t trust Shays to not go back on his word and attack his army. Nor did he trust that Shays would not fade away into the hills to fight a guerilla war against the government.
    But, above all, Lincoln didn’t trust his own army’s ability to play a waiting game against these blasted Regulators.
    My army is falling apart! Lincoln thought to himself as he finished reading a dispatch from Major General John Paterson, his commander in the Berkshires. The antigovernment “frenzy,” Paterson reported, infested the regions bordering New York and made him fear for his safety. He was demanding reinforcements.
    â€œGeneral,” Lincoln’s cavalry commander, Colonel Burt, interrupted, “I must have a word with you. I was unable to send out patrols again tonight . . . the rate of desertions is simply too high.” The normally mild-mannered Lincoln flung Patterson’s letter to the floor. “Desertions! Those madmen in the Berkshires!” he screamed. “And discipline is breaking down. Looting even here in Hadley—by my own men! Damn it, this has to end!”
    Both armies—the government’s and the Regulators’—were quickly collapsing. Lincoln’s militia enlistments would expire in late February. Victory now seemed to be a question of which side would dissolve first.
    How , thought Lincoln, am I going to explain this to Governor Bowdoin? Or to General Washington?
    â€œGeneral Lincoln?” a snow-covered lieutenant interrupted.
    â€œWhat do you want?” Lincoln snapped.
    â€œUh . . . we’ve . . . we’ve learned that Shays has evacuated his Pelham stronghold and has reached Petersham for the night.”
    â€œPetersham? Where in tarnation is that?”
    â€œIt’s about thirty miles northeast of here, toward Gardner.”
    â€œYes, yes, of course,” said Lincoln suddenly, very softly and calmly. A plan welled inside him. “Gentlemen, alert the troops, we are headed for Petersham . . . tonight . . . now!”
    â€œNow?” stammered Colonel Burt. “It’s nearly eight o’clock. We’d have to travel through the night—and in the most hostile territory.”
    â€œAll the better to march by night, then,” answered Lincoln. “Our enemies will slumber peacefully and wake to some very unwelcome company.”
    En Route to Petersham
    New Salem, Massachusetts
    February 3, 1787
    General Lincoln and his troops had set off late but in fair weather. At 2:00 A.M ., however, and about halfway to Petersham, that changed quickly: Veritable blizzard descended upon them. Temperatures dropped, sheets of snow drifted, and the wind blew so violently that it blinded his caravan. Soon frostbite struck.
    Lincoln’s men wondered what sort of madman had delivered them into such disaster, but they kept marching. They had no real choice.
    Regulator Encampment
    Petersham, Massachusetts
    February 4, 1787
    The weather was equally horrid at Petersham: freezing temperatures with near zero visibility. Daniel Shays’ men may have shivered, but at least they shivered with a temporary sense of security. No one would dare attack them in this weather. Only a lunatic would dispatch an army in such conditions. Plus, it was now the Sabbath—a day of peace, when armies sheathed their swords and knelt in prayer. They rested without fear and without nearly enough sentries to