The Angel of 1776 - A Novella Read online

  Billy’s eyes fluttered.

  “Hello there, Billy,” Mercer said gently.

  The boy’s eyes focused, he gasped and then drew away fearfully.

  “Calm yourself, Billy. It is only me. Hugh Mercer. You know me, do you not?”

  “General Mercer, sir? I – I – I…”

  “Calm yourself, lad,” Mercer repeated in a soothing tone. “Do not try to talk yet.”

  “Where is that soup?” Hamilton shouted.

  “Here.” Brown pushed through the circle of officers.

  “Let me.” Mercer took the bowl and spoon. “Have a little of Goody Brown’s famous soup, Billy. It will warm your inside while the fire warms your outside.”

  The boy opened his mouth to accept a spoonful of soup.

  “I had no idea that any of our drummers were quite so young,” Washington said to Lord Stirling. “How old is this boy?”

  “Fourteen,” Stirling replied.

  Mercer smiled and gave Billy another spoonful of soup. “Perhaps he claims to be fourteen, but I think twelve is more likely to be accurate.”

  “Too young in either case,” Washington pronounced. “He should be with his family.”

  “Billy was orphaned during the Battle of Brooklyn Heights, General,” Stirling said in a lowered voice. “When we retreated across the East River, we took Billy with us. After that,” he shrugged. “Well, for a variety of reasons we more or less adopted the lad and kept him with us.” He winked at the boy, who seemed to be recovering quickly, and said loudly, “Billy is a good boy and fine young soldier.”

  Billy looked up at Stirling, then at Washington. “I know where all the Hessian troops are housed in Trenton as well as the headquarters of the commanders, Excellency.”

  Washington wrinkled his brow. “What is this?” He looked at Stirling. “This boy knows of our Trenton battle-plans?”

  Stirling shrugged. “He probably overheard Hugh and me talking.”

  Washington was angry. “We all agreed that this would be strictly need-to-know.”

  “I can keep a secret, General,” Billy said.

  “Billy does not mix with ordinary soldiers or wander about camp spreading gossip,” Stirling said hotly before Washington could answer. “He is either with me, a member of my staff or an officer in my brigade at all times. All of us are privy to the war-plans.”

  “Well, at this late date I suppose that it no longer matters.” Washington’s words did not match his demeanor, but keeping peace with his officers was crucial – now more than ever.

  “You said that you needed volunteers who speak German,” Billy insisted. “And our Pennsylvania Dutch soldiers are all too frightened of the Hessian devils so…” He began to cough.

  “Slow down and have some more soup first,” Washington said. He waited for the boy’s coughing to subside. “Give the child the bowl, please, Hugh. He looks like he can feed himself now.”

  Mercer gave the bowl and spoon to Billy and stood up, allowing Washington to move closer to the lad. “I have known this boy since the day he was found on the battlefield,” Mercer said. “He would never repeat a military secret.”

  Washington waved his hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, I am sure that is so. Let us hear from the boy.”

  After four or five noisy slurps, Billy looked up at General Washington again. “You said that you needed volunteers who speak German and all the Pennsylvania Dutch officers and men refused. So since I speak German fluently…”

  “Yes, yes, it has taken several days just to convince our Pennsylvania Germans to accompany us on the crossing.” Washington interrupted. “They believe that Hessians are devils incarnate. But, since you speak German, you decided, on your own volition, to go absent without leave.”

  Billy dropped his eyes. “Yes, sir. But I knew that if I volunteered you would say that I was too young.” He waited a moment for Washington to react. When the general said nothing more, he rushed on. “I know where everyone is, sir. Everyone.”

  Washington looked at his officers then patted the boy’s wet hair. “Good, good. As soon as you are warm and dry, you can help us markup our map.” He started to turn back toward the door to the private room.

  “First, by your leave, sir,” Billy said. “I have a request, sir.”

  Washington stopped and raised a disapproving eyebrow. “A condition, you mean?”

  “Oh no, sir. Just a request, sir.”

  “What is your request, soldier?”

  “I want to be included in the battle, sir.”

  Washington shook his head emphatically. “No. Absolutely not. We will attack in stealth and will have no need for drummers.”

  “There will be casualties, sir,” Billy insisted. “I am well experienced with aiding the wounded, sir. And I speak German. They are all Hessians over there, sir. Almost none of them speak English. You will need interpreters, sir.”

  “Our German officers will suffice.”

  “If they do not run away,” Billy said. “And the English they speak is barely understandable.”

  “Billy.” Stirling’s voice cracked like a whip. “That was uncalled-for.”

  The boy hung his head. “I do apologize, sir.” He looked up beseechingly at Washington. “Please may I go with you, sir?”

  Washington shook his head. “This battle will be bloody. You are much too young.”

  Billy turned his pleading eyes on Lord Stirling.

  “I disagree, General,” Stirling said after a moment. “Billy has stood shoulder to shoulder with us in every battle from New York to here. He has earned the right to be treated as a soldier and as a man.”

  Washington was not pleased with Stirling’s argument. “General Mercer? What is your opinion of the lad’s health?”

  Mercer clearly knew what Washington wanted him to say, but he shrugged his shoulders and said, “Billy is a strong, healthy boy, General. Warm him up, dry him out, feed him well, and he will be fully recovered before we begin boarding the boats tonight.”

  Goodwife Brown pushed her way through the officers to the fireplace. “The kitchen would be the best place for him to begin his recovery.” She took the bowl and spoon from Billy and grasped his hand. “Come along with me, child.”

  ~ 3 ~

  Washington watched the woman and the boy until they disappeared behind the kitchen door, then he turned to Alexander Hamilton. “Are we expected to believe that a small boy paddled a canoe across the frozen Delaware River twice?”

  Hamilton shrugged. “That is what he claims, sir. I can ask Colonel Glover, if you like.”

  “Even if Glover saw the boy land his canoe, he cannot tell us where he came from.” Washington shook his head. “I fear that this is all just a small boy’s attempt to gain attention by telling us a tall-tale.”

  “I have never known Billy to tell a lie, General Washington,” Lord Stirling exclaimed, in a somewhat heated tone. “His father was a highly respected Lutheran minister. Billy can read and write English, German and Latin. He is better educated than many of my officers.”

  “You will forgive me, sir, if I say that the child’s education has no bearing on the issue.” Washington met Stirling’s eyes. “And may I also remind you that the boy has indeed lied to you. He told you he was fourteen, but General Mercer says that the boy is more likely to be only twelve. Is that not a lie?”

  “Well,” Stirling blustered. “That is a horse of a different color.”

  Washington was trying to avoid an argument, but from the expression in his face, it was clear that he was very dubious about Stirling’s judgment in the matter.

  “Billy may be a bit fanciful,” Mercer offered, “but I agree with Lord Stirling that he is no liar.”

  “He lied about his age,” Washington insisted, a bit louder than was necessary.

  “He just wants to be a soldier,” Mercer replied. “Many a soldier has lied about his age in order to enlist. It is so common that it is nearly a tradition.”

  “If the boy is, as you descri
be, fanciful, would that not make his intelligence unreliable?” Washington asked doggedly.

  “Well,” Mercer replied. “Perhaps I should have used another word. As a minister’s son Billy has very strong religious beliefs and the faith of a child.”

  Washington shook his head. “How did we get from fanciful to faithful, Hugh?”

  Mercer squirmed. Washington had a gift for seeing through smokescreens and getting right to the heart of an issue. Mercer looked toward Stirling for help.

  “Billy claims to have a guardian angel,” Stirling said in a resigned tone.

  Washington chuckled. “Ah. And we are to trust what he says to be true?”

  “What he says may very well be true,” Stirling insisted. “We found him in the ruins of the parsonage on the Brooklyn Heights. The parsonage, the stone church and every building for a half mile had been completely reduced to rubble by British artillery. There was not even a tree left standing. Everyone was dead. Everyone except Billy, that is. I am of the opinion that only a miracle could have saved him.”

  When several others murmured agreement Washington decided to end the discussion before it became a religious debate. “Enough of this. Shall we return to our table?” He led the way through the door of the back room.

  “A question about manpower, sir,” General Greene said, as the officers filed back to their original seats around the table.

  “Yes.” Washington sat down. “What is your question, General?”

  “All together, we have about six thousand men on our roster who are fit for duty,” Greene said. “However, with the number currently detailed to guard the ferries at Bristol and New Hope, those guarding the supplies at Newtown, and the rearguard that we must leave to protect the sick and wounded, our numbers will be reduced to just under twenty-five hundred.”

  “Permit me to anticipate your question, General,” Washington said. “The troops on guard at the ferries and the rear guard are absolutely necessary.”

  “And besides,” Knox interjected. “Glover already has very serious doubts about getting twenty-five hundred men across the river. Bring any more and he is likely to go entirely mad.”

  “I think you add to his madness, Henry,” Washington said. “With all the barges and flatboats available, you still insist on moving your cannon on platforms nailed to Durham boats.”

  “I have only insisted that he move two of my pieces using the platforms, sir,” Knox said. “The other sixteen guns can cross on the barges or ferries that will be carrying wagons, carriages and horses. As long as they are properly loaded and their weight is balanced.”

  “That removes four of his boats and forty of his men from the task of carrying troops,” Washington said.

  “I have had this argument with Glover every day, General.” Knox shook his head and gave Washington a pitiful look. “Must I take the same abuse from you too?”

  “No, Henry,” Washington said. “Unlike Glover, I would never make personal remarks about you being so fat when everyone else is undernourished.”

  There was a short, stunned silence until Hamilton lost his self control and laughed into his hands. Soon the whole room was roaring with laughter.

  ~ 4 ~

  December, 1774 through December, 1776

  In 1774, Major General Sir William Howe, an elected Member of Parliament for Nottingham, publicly proclaimed that the entire British Army could not conquer America and that he would never agree to take up arms against the colonies. Early the following year, however, when his cousin, King George, appointed him as commander-in-chief of the British forces in America, General Howe, with four thousand troops, set sail for the besieged city of Boston.

  On May 25, 1775, Howe arrived off the coast of Massachusetts, and together with General Thomas Gage, General John Burgoyne and General Henry Clinton, laid plans to take and occupy the high ground above Boston. The American rebels learned of the British plan within hours of Howe’s war council and Minutemen immediately rushed to fortify the heights on the Charlestown peninsula. The British attempt to displace the Americans from the heights would come to be known as the Battle of Bunker Hill.

  Howe, the senior officer, who naturally bore the responsibility for the battle’s outcome, insisted that Bunker Hill was a British victory in spite of the extraordinarily high number of British casualties. The stated opinion of Howe’s subordinate, General Henry Clinton, was that Bunker Hill was “such a dear bought victory that another such victory would have ruined us.”

  Sir William had hoped to put down the upstart colonials in one decisive battle at Boston and return to England as a hero before the summer’s end, but the “dear bought” victory of Bunker Hill shattered Howe’s hopes and made him cautious. On October 10, 1775, General Gage returned to England and General Howe settled into winter quarters at Van Cortlandt House in Manhattan with his American mistress.

  Now, over two months later, at the sound of a gentle knock on the door of his plush Manhattan study, Sir William looked up from the document he was reading. “Come in, my pet.”

  Betsey Loring was wearing an extremely low-cut, formal evening gown and her blonde tresses were piled in a high beehive, styled after Marie Antoinette. “Who was that lovely woman that you were speaking with, William?” She closed the door behind her and walked to stop in front of his desk.

  Howe’s attention was riveted upon the deep cleft between her nearly bare breasts. “What was that?”

  “I saw a stunningly beautiful woman leaving your office as I was coming down the stairs,” she said.

  Howe smiled. “Are you jealous, my pet?”

  “Should I be?”

  “No,” he replied. “It was business.”

  “If she is important enough for you to have granted her a private audience, should she be added to our guest list?”

  “That would be your decision.” Howe returned to reading the document.

  “Then I must know who she is, must I not?”

  He looked up again. “She is the daughter-in-law of Rachael Van Buskirk, who is the daughter of the owner of this house.”

  “Is not this house owned by the Van Cortlandt family?”

  “It is,” he said with a nod. “Rachael Van Buskirk’s maiden name is Van Cortlandt.”

  “What is the given name of the woman you spoke with?”

  He shook his head. “She introduced herself as Mrs. Van Buskirk and never offered her given name.”

  “And may I know what business Mrs. Van Buskirk wished to discuss with you?”

  “Payment for the use of this house, of course. These Colonials always want money. Even the rich ones.”

  “Are not the Van Cortlandts loyal to the Crown?”

  “Yes but Mrs. Van Buskirk’s loyalty to the Crown is questionable. She is the daughter of William Livingston, the Governor of New Jersey. Livingston was a member of the Rebel Congress before he was governor. He was also a signatory of the insulting letter that prompted His Majesty to send me here. Her husband, John, is the infamous Mad Swordsman who became a hero of the Rebel cause during the Battle of Long Island.”

  Betsey arched a painted eyebrow. “Then perhaps it would be best if I did not include Mrs. Van Buskirk on our guest list.”

  Howe waved his hand. “It hardly matters. In less than a month, this rebellion will be quelled. Both of Mister Washington’s division commanders have turned against him and he, with a small, tattered army, is isolated on the other side of the Delaware River. When the river freezes I will finish Washington and the war will be over.”

  “Over? Really?”

  “Yes.” He waved the document that he had been reading. “These are the terms of his surrender. Now if you please, give us a kiss and allow us to get back to it.”

  She walked around the desk and planted a kiss on the top of his head. “If the war is to be over soon, there would be no harm in socializing with Mrs. Van Buskirk. A woman that beautiful would interest many of the pitifully lonesome young British officers who attend our parties.”
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  “As you say, Pet. As you say.”

  ~ 5 ~

  July, 1776 through December, 1776

  In the early summer of 1776, just after the United States declared its independence from England, General Howe won a decisive victory against General George Washington at the Battle of Long Island, but his caution during the following Battle of Brooklyn Heights permitted John Glover’s Marblehead Massachusetts militiamen to withdraw Washington’s army across the East River in boats, barges, ferries, scows and all other manner of floating conveyance. General Clinton insisted that if the British had only pressed the attack with their full force of thirty-three thousand men, Washington’s entire army would have been destroyed, thus ending the American Revolution.

  On September 15, 1776, Howe captured the battery on Lower Manhattan and swept into New York City with an army of over twelve thousand. Washington fought a delaying action and retreated to the fortifications at Harlem. The following day, Howe attacked in force but was beaten back by the stubborn Americans. The standoff held until October when, in an attempt to flank Washington, Howe landed a substantial force in Westchester County. Washington countered the move by withdrawing the bulk of his army to White Plains and continued retreating north under pressure from Howe.

  With Washington’s force away from New York City, Fort Lee and Fort Washington on the Hudson River were isolated and soon taken by Hessian mercenaries who put as many as five hundred of the surrendering defenders to death. Washington had made a difficult decision when he withdrew his army’s protection from the two little earthen forts, but when he made that decision, he had anticipated that his soldiers would be captured, well-treated and later traded for British prisoners of war. Washington would never forget nor would he forgive the Hessian commanders who had allowed the massacre to happen.

  General Howe flatly refused to accept the United States as a country or Washington as a general, in public or in private, so after consolidating his forces in New York, he ordered General Lord Cornwallis to finish Mister Washington. Washington responded by separating the Continental Army into three divisions. The first was commanded by Washington himself, the second commanded by General Charles Lee and the third under command of General Horatio Gates. Washington’s plan was to fight a delaying action while retreating through New Jersey and across the Delaware River to Pennsylvania, where the three armies would meet and rejoin. His logic was that if one or even two of the armies were cut off and defeated, the surviving army or armies could fight on. His mistake was in trusting his two scheming, unscrupulous, and politically ambitious generals.