the river and was attempting to lure Washington out for a fight. The price of all foodstuffs in the city had dropped now that the Continental forts that had blocked the lower Delaware had at last fallen and supply transports were coming in daily. Though the city was now well supplied by transports, this raid was a spoiler, meant to sweep the countryside around Philadelphia clean of any provisions the Continental Army might still try to seize. The report was a picture of the British well secured and comfortable in the richest city in North America, ready to live out the winter in luxury, with the lowest British private eating as well as a general on the American side. Weekly balls were already in vogue. Officers were finding merchants more than happy to rent out living quarters for real guineas stamped with the image of the king. More than a few of their daughters were willing to be seen clinging to a redcoat’s arm, the less proper willing to share rather more. Most of the populace seemed content with their conquerors—more and more, they were calling them their liberators. Rumors from spies for the British were that the rebel army was disintegrating, that not a single head of cattle or barrel of flour was found when the Americans marched into Valley Forge three days ago.
Dan listened quietly, pondering all that was said. Three months ago, he believed it was all over. After Saratoga, victory for the Revolution had seemed inevitable. An entire British Army had surrendered. But now, all of this? The excitement of the hunt and chase of only minutes ago evaporated and was replaced with exhaustion and hunger. He had placed the strictest injunction against looting and foraging, an order personally given to him by Washington, and thus his men had ridden past many rich farmsteads, leaving them untouched even as they felt the pangs of hunger. It was becoming increasingly difficult to prevent his men from going back to steal. However, General Washington’s orders had been strict. The populace would be kept on the patriots’ side by forbearance and hunger. Now, the British were the ones who were plucking the land clean.
Clark sighed and thanked David, drew his notebook out, and started to write.
“Can one of your men take this report back to General Washington?” he asked, looking over at Dan.
Dan nodded. With this cold ground, Old Moses wasn’t much good for running. He could take a horse and get off his feet for a few days.
Clark finished his report and, as an act of courtesy, handed it to Dan, who scanned it. He was ashamed to admit he could barely read or write, but he could figure out some of it. Clark gave what he thought was an accurate count, not claiming that Howe was with the column but suspecting he might be, and closed by urging that, if a flying column was rapidly dispatched to this place, the general could cut off a goodly portion of the British Army and achieve a telling victory.
Dan quickly folded the message and called for Moses, who took Dan’s horse and rode north to report to Washington.
Clark squatted down by the fire alongside David, staring morosely at the flames.
“A year ago today, I was with the General,” Clark finally said. “Today’s the twenty-second of December, isn’t it?”
“I think so.” Dan replied.
“A year ago today, December twenty-second, the general asked me to send a few men into Trenton to take a look around. David was one of them. A good act he played with that runaway slave routine of his. And he came back with an accurate count of how many men were with that Hessian Colonel Rall.”
“I knew then what the general was thinking. A year ago exactly,” Clark sighed.
He held his hands up to warm them as a gust of wind screamed all around them.
“And now look where we are. This damn war will go on forever. We’re worse off now than we were a year ago. You heard what David said, and I believe every word of it. At least when we retreated across the Delaware a year
Dan listened quietly, pondering all that was said. Three months ago, he believed it was all over. After Saratoga, victory for the Revolution had seemed inevitable. An entire British Army had surrendered. But now, all of this? The excitement of the hunt and chase of only minutes ago evaporated and was replaced with exhaustion and hunger. He had placed the strictest injunction against looting and foraging, an order personally given to him by Washington, and thus his men had ridden past many rich farmsteads, leaving them untouched even as they felt the pangs of hunger. It was becoming increasingly difficult to prevent his men from going back to steal. However, General Washington’s orders had been strict. The populace would be kept on the patriots’ side by forbearance and hunger. Now, the British were the ones who were plucking the land clean.
Clark sighed and thanked David, drew his notebook out, and started to write.
“Can one of your men take this report back to General Washington?” he asked, looking over at Dan.
Dan nodded. With this cold ground, Old Moses wasn’t much good for running. He could take a horse and get off his feet for a few days.
Clark finished his report and, as an act of courtesy, handed it to Dan, who scanned it. He was ashamed to admit he could barely read or write, but he could figure out some of it. Clark gave what he thought was an accurate count, not claiming that Howe was with the column but suspecting he might be, and closed by urging that, if a flying column was rapidly dispatched to this place, the general could cut off a goodly portion of the British Army and achieve a telling victory.
Dan quickly folded the message and called for Moses, who took Dan’s horse and rode north to report to Washington.
Clark squatted down by the fire alongside David, staring morosely at the flames.
“A year ago today, I was with the General,” Clark finally said. “Today’s the twenty-second of December, isn’t it?”
“I think so.” Dan replied.
“A year ago today, December twenty-second, the general asked me to send a few men into Trenton to take a look around. David was one of them. A good act he played with that runaway slave routine of his. And he came back with an accurate count of how many men were with that Hessian Colonel Rall.”
“I knew then what the general was thinking. A year ago exactly,” Clark sighed.
He held his hands up to warm them as a gust of wind screamed all around them.
“And now look where we are. This damn war will go on forever. We’re worse off now than we were a year ago. You heard what David said, and I believe every word of it. At least when we retreated across the Delaware a year
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