The General's Christmas by C. Metzinger Page B
Authors: C. Metzinger
Tags: Christmas, battle, george washington, american revolution, battle of trenton, crossing the delaware, war for independence
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left
for dead in a snowdrift. Whatever fate awaited them in Trenton,
they only knew that they had sworn an oath to fight, and would
fight to their deaths.
Chapter 9
Anna set the dish of butter on the wooden
table and looked at the bread toasting on the hearth. She deftly
turned the grill over to toast the bread to a light golden brown.
Already on the table were cheese and apple slices. Elizabeth was
still up in bed recuperating, but Anna had become restless and
needed something to do.
As she prepared breakfast for her sister and
herself, she thought about Corporal Baylor, wondering if he had
reached Trenton and found their father.
She looked out of the window. Snow and wind
continued to howl and hurl icy crystals against the glass. During
the night she had heard thunder and saw a streak of lightning
during the freak storm that changed rain into sleet, then hail, and
finally snow. She couldn't remember seeing a stronger storm in all
the years that she had lived in New Jersey.
She worried about her father, wondering what
had happened to him. Had the Hessians kept him for labor, as
Corporal Baylor suggested, or had they killed him? The prospect of
losing her father was frightening. Tears welled in her eyes and she
brushed them away quickly, telling herself to have faith that her
prayers would be answered.
She thought about her books
that had burned with the house. On dark evenings in winter, when
she wasn't working, she often sat and read. Her father had given
her a few of his old books that she enjoyed reading. Besides
reading the Bible, her favorites were The
Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan, or
Milton's Paradise Lost or other verses. Her father was more liberal-minded and better
educated than most Colonists. An avid reader himself, he couldn't
deny his daughters the acquisition of knowledge or the
enlightenment of moral literature, though he wouldn't abide the
sonnets of Shakespeare or any other "heathen" author. He advocated
reading to enrich the mind and the soul, and not to entertain. Now
the nights would be long and lonely with nothing to do but card
wool or stitch a sampler.
She hoped her father would
return soon with Corporal Baylor. She imagined their happy reunion,
and Corporal Baylor's pleasure at seeing her family reunited. She
would shower him with gratitude. She wondered if he were married or
betrothed. He had an attractive face and kind eyes. Something about
his manner told her that he was a compassionate person who prided
himself on doing the right thing. When he smiled at her, she
imagined that he found her attractive and interesting, also. If
they could somehow get to know one another, would she find that his
kind eyes reflected a godly soul? Could he love her, she wondered?
Could she love him? Would he stay here or would the army be moving
him on to the next battle, and the next, leaving her behind in this
small desolate camp for the rest of winter? Their farm house would
have to wait in charred ruins until spring to be
rebuilt.
"Ah, you're feeling better today, are you?"
asked Widow Harris when she saw Anna making buttered toast.
"Yes, thank you. I'm taking breakfast up to
Elizabeth."
"That's good. Is there still some water in
the kettle?"
"Yes, and it's still boiling."
Widow Harris nodded and went to the hearth.
Anna put the toast, cheese, apples and sassafras tea on a tray and
carried it upstairs to Elizabeth's room.
Her sister was awake and smiled weakly. Anna
froze in the doorway, shocked at her sister's battered face, now
colorfully bruised and swollen.
"What? Do I look that bad?" asked
Elizabeth.
"No,..er, no, I just was checking to see if
you were awake."
"Liar," her sister teased and sighed, "Oh, I
must look a sight, but at least I'm alive."
Anna set the tray down on a bedside table and
sat down to look at her sister.
"How are you feeling today?" she asked.
"Better. My feet still burn and itch
terribly. And it pains me to move much."
She attempted to sit up and Anna
for dead in a snowdrift. Whatever fate awaited them in Trenton,
they only knew that they had sworn an oath to fight, and would
fight to their deaths.
Chapter 9
Anna set the dish of butter on the wooden
table and looked at the bread toasting on the hearth. She deftly
turned the grill over to toast the bread to a light golden brown.
Already on the table were cheese and apple slices. Elizabeth was
still up in bed recuperating, but Anna had become restless and
needed something to do.
As she prepared breakfast for her sister and
herself, she thought about Corporal Baylor, wondering if he had
reached Trenton and found their father.
She looked out of the window. Snow and wind
continued to howl and hurl icy crystals against the glass. During
the night she had heard thunder and saw a streak of lightning
during the freak storm that changed rain into sleet, then hail, and
finally snow. She couldn't remember seeing a stronger storm in all
the years that she had lived in New Jersey.
She worried about her father, wondering what
had happened to him. Had the Hessians kept him for labor, as
Corporal Baylor suggested, or had they killed him? The prospect of
losing her father was frightening. Tears welled in her eyes and she
brushed them away quickly, telling herself to have faith that her
prayers would be answered.
She thought about her books
that had burned with the house. On dark evenings in winter, when
she wasn't working, she often sat and read. Her father had given
her a few of his old books that she enjoyed reading. Besides
reading the Bible, her favorites were The
Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan, or
Milton's Paradise Lost or other verses. Her father was more liberal-minded and better
educated than most Colonists. An avid reader himself, he couldn't
deny his daughters the acquisition of knowledge or the
enlightenment of moral literature, though he wouldn't abide the
sonnets of Shakespeare or any other "heathen" author. He advocated
reading to enrich the mind and the soul, and not to entertain. Now
the nights would be long and lonely with nothing to do but card
wool or stitch a sampler.
She hoped her father would
return soon with Corporal Baylor. She imagined their happy reunion,
and Corporal Baylor's pleasure at seeing her family reunited. She
would shower him with gratitude. She wondered if he were married or
betrothed. He had an attractive face and kind eyes. Something about
his manner told her that he was a compassionate person who prided
himself on doing the right thing. When he smiled at her, she
imagined that he found her attractive and interesting, also. If
they could somehow get to know one another, would she find that his
kind eyes reflected a godly soul? Could he love her, she wondered?
Could she love him? Would he stay here or would the army be moving
him on to the next battle, and the next, leaving her behind in this
small desolate camp for the rest of winter? Their farm house would
have to wait in charred ruins until spring to be
rebuilt.
"Ah, you're feeling better today, are you?"
asked Widow Harris when she saw Anna making buttered toast.
"Yes, thank you. I'm taking breakfast up to
Elizabeth."
"That's good. Is there still some water in
the kettle?"
"Yes, and it's still boiling."
Widow Harris nodded and went to the hearth.
Anna put the toast, cheese, apples and sassafras tea on a tray and
carried it upstairs to Elizabeth's room.
Her sister was awake and smiled weakly. Anna
froze in the doorway, shocked at her sister's battered face, now
colorfully bruised and swollen.
"What? Do I look that bad?" asked
Elizabeth.
"No,..er, no, I just was checking to see if
you were awake."
"Liar," her sister teased and sighed, "Oh, I
must look a sight, but at least I'm alive."
Anna set the tray down on a bedside table and
sat down to look at her sister.
"How are you feeling today?" she asked.
"Better. My feet still burn and itch
terribly. And it pains me to move much."
She attempted to sit up and Anna