Blood Upon The Snow

by Martin Ganzglass

  “Mr. Ford ’s ba rn to sadd le Big Red. We a re to practice unlimbering guns this morning. In that hilly field west of the town.” Merriam winced as he put his bad foot down the wrong way in a frozen rut.

  “Do not worry sir. I will walk with you.” “Good lad, Will,” Merriam said appreciatively with a smile. “I knew you were from the first moment we met. Do you remember?”

  Will was about to say he did, but Merriam went on, speaking between short gasps of breath. “It was in Cambridge. I was invalided from that cannon ball rolling from the poorly stacked pile behind a twelve pounder into my ankle. That was the start of all my misery. And you came with Captain Hadley, he was a Lieutenant then, to the hospital and tended to the men of the Regiment stricken with small pox even though you knew none of us. My own self included.”

  They were in front of the stone building that served as quarters for General Knox and his staff. Will nodded to the two sentries and holding Sergeant Merriam by his elbow, helped him up the slippery granite steps to the black double doors. The effort of climbing up to the entrance brought on another fit of gasping and raspy noises.

  Merriam patted Will’s arm. “And now we are together still, in this our winter quarters.” He looked back at the path to the encampment. “There is much blasphemy and profaneness, dissipation and debauchery in this camp. The men forget it is the helping hand of Providence which has rescued us from our enemies.” Will thought Merriam was prepared to launch into a sermon to the two sentries, but the Sergeant just shook his head, either marveling at how far they had come together since Cambridge or the rampant sinfulness of the men.

  “Tis a rough life for an old man,” Merriam said to no one in particular before crossing the threshold. One sentry closed the doors behind the Sergeant and winked.

  Will traversed the Morristown Green, a large barren rectangular field, the snow now tamped down and dirty brown. Several companies formed up for marching drills. On the opposite side, General Washington had established his headquarters in Arnold’s Tavern. It was guarded by the General’s Own in their distinctive blue dragoon style helmets, topped by a white feather plume. Eight of them stood in a perfect line, arrayed in front of the Commander in Chief’s headquarters in their the dark blue regimental coats with buff colored facing, and matching coffee colored vests and breeches.

  The ordinary soldiers had complained how the camp had become more spit and polish since Martha Washington had arrived ten days ago, from Philadelphia. 1 She had been brought in an elegant enclosed carriage, drawn by two white horses, accompanied by her black personal maid servant and escorted by mounted volunteers from the city’s most prominent patriotic families. The young dandies had strained the already meager resources of the camp, requiring decent quarters and food for themselves and stables and forage for their horses.

  A few days later, there had been a dress parade on the Green in Mrs. Washington’s honor. The officers had impressed upon their men the need to have their uniforms clean and patched. The men grumbled at being put upon for show but had been assuaged by the arrival of cattle and pigs and barrels of salted fish and eels, flour, rum, candles and tanned hides for making shoes, all donated by the good people of Philadelphia for “their army.” The smells of roasting meats and baking breads had wafted from the many log huts and outdoor ovens. True, as Merriam had lamented, many soldiers had over-imbibed at night after the parade and been found too drunk to stand for roll-call the following morning.

  Will spent the rest of the short daylight hours working with different gun crews, dashing across a snowy field to a pre-determined position, quickly dismounting, unlimbering the brass six- pounder, and “retreating” from the battle line, while the gun crew unloaded the side boxes, wormer, sponge, rammer and bucket. It was a matter of speed, how fast they made the gun ready to fire, and how quickly they attached the cannon’s carriage to Big Red’s traces. Captain Lieutenant Hadley rode from one emplacement to the other, urging the men on and noting the crews that worked the most efficiently and those that needed more drilling.

  Toward the end of the afternoon, as the sun dipped below the Watchung mountain range, Hadley signaled the exercise was over. Will stretched in the saddle feeling stiff and cold as Big Red pulled the cannon along a well trod path. The gun crews trudged behind them in the churned up slush. Hadley trotted on his chestnut mare next to Will.

  “Your horse performs the best of all in the Company. Perhaps in the Regiment,” he added. “Others shy away when released from their traces and are difficult to bring back to the emplacements. It is worse with the militia units. Their horses have never been under fire.” Hadley hesitated as if debating with himself whether to say more. “General Knox has a plan to consolidate all the artillery and assign the guns, horses and crews to the Regiments as needed. I believe he has you in mind to train the horses, to accustom them to the sounds of cannon fire.” He smiled at Will. “He thinks highly of you. I may have spoken out of turn. Say nothing, until our General informs you himself.” Will nodded, thinking of how this additional task would help relieve the boredom of these winter quarters and alleviate his pining for Elisabeth.

  As they approached the Green, their attention was drawn to the commotion in front of General Knox’s Headquarters. A trio of sleds stood in front of the building and a stream of soldiers flowed back and forth, illuminated in the candlelight, carrying trunks and boxes. Two soldiers wrestled with the frozen ropes attached to a long wooden cradle tied to the rear of one of the sleds.

  Hadley pointed to the cradle. “Mrs. Knox has joined her husband for winter quarters and has brought their babe,” he said. “I believe our General will be the happiest man in camp this evening. Join me tomorrow for breakfast at the Fords and we will go together to pay our respects to General and Mrs. Knox.” 2

  The next morning Will was up early, polishing his boots and brushing his blue regimental coat with a stiff straw brush. Ruefully, he regretted there was no remedy at hand for the poorly stitched patches, the gunpowder stains on the buffing or the tarnished pewter buttons. He put on a clean shirt and donned his breeches, noting the ingrained dirt around the knees. They were better than his linen work pants, torn and roughly repaired at the seams. His stockings were more grey in color than white but at least had no obvious holes. He buckled the breeches tight at the back of his knees over the stockings, thinking the leather straps will surely wear out before long. He pulled his doublesided metal comb through his hair, inspecting the narrow tines for evidence of head lice. Thankful there were none, he pulled his hair back and tied it into a tail. Outside his compact hut, he took a deep breath of the cold crisp clean winter air, filled with the scent of smoke from the many fires. This morning, the wind, thank God, was blowing away from the many vaults behind the soldiers’ living quarters.

  While he appeared presentable from a distance, Will was conscious that up close he smelled of horse, gunpowder, wood smoke, cooking fat and sweat. The General would understand of course, but he was concerned Mrs. Knox would be offended.

  Together with Hadley, who was freshly shaven and sporting a white cockade in his tri-corn, they crunched through the thin surface of ice covering the snow on the road from the Ford’s home to Knox’s headquarters. Once inside the stout fieldstone building, they pushed their way into the already crowded waiting room outside the General’s office. Officers, newly arrived from Philadelphia, lounged against the mantle as if posing for a group painting. They warmed themselves before the fire, laughing too heartily at each other’s witticisms. Their uniforms were spotless, their black knee length boots highly polished, their burnished silver buttons sparkled in the light from the flames. They exuded an air of smug satisfaction and entitlement. Will felt extremely self-conscious. Hadley, however, was unperturbed. He approached the General’s orderly with comradely familiarity and whispered in his ear. The man nodded and when the door opened to permit an officer to exit, the orderly quickly ducked inside. Will heard the General’s voice booming from within.

&
nbsp; “Of course. Show them in immediately. I have heard enough insipid requests this early in the morning to last me for the entire day.”

  The orderly beckoned and Will followed Hadley into the General’s office, conscious of the scowls and murmurs of annoyance from those still waiting.

  “Will, my lad. Good to see you. You know of course my dearest Lucy has arrived. She has brought some books of interest as well as the latest gazettes from Boston and a few of the less recent ones from London. If I recall, your birth date is in February. Perhaps, you will permit me to provide you with a book as a present.”

  “Sir,” Will replied. “There is no need. I …”

  Knox waved a hand and interrupted. “Of course there is. Besides, a book is simply a token. I have a much better gift in mind.”

  “Sir. All I fervently desire is paper and ink to write to Elisabeth.”

  Knox grunted. “Time enough for that,” he said, motioning for them to sit in the plain oak chairs in front of his desk, piled high with ledgers, orders, and correspondence. Will was puzzled by the General’s brusque response to his request, having expected it to quickly be granted. He barely listened to Hadley reporting on the state of training of artillery horses.

  “So, Will,” the General said loudly, looking at him. “There is work to be done. Are you up to the task? Will you assume the responsibility? Of course you must. Captain Hadley is the second person in as many days to recommend you be promoted to Sergeant. It would be unseemly to have a mere Corporal training others how to control their horses and unlimber the guns.”

  “I will undertake whatever you ask of me, Sir. But I fear I am undeserving of the rank.”

  “Nonsense, lad. Remember I have seen you on the battlefield. My clerk will prepare a promotion list for posting tomorrow and there will be a ceremony at this Sunday’s parade.” Knox was positively glowing, his eyes full of mirth as if he was bursting with joy. Will attributed it to the arrival of Mrs. Knox and baby Lucy.

  “Sir. I trust your wife and babe are in good health? They were not discomforted from their trip?”

  “They are in the best of health,” Knox said beaming. “My dearest wife was briefly ill after her small pox inoculation.” He frowned at the thought. “But now, my most ardent desires and my written professions of affection have been answered with her arrival at our winter quarters.” Will blushed with embarrassment at the General’s candor.

  It did not seem to disturb Hadley. “I would consider it an honor if I could present Miss Mercy Buskirk Ford. I believe Mrs. Knox will find her a charming companion.”

  Knox raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “I have heard that you have already succumbed to her charms.” Hadley inclined his head in silent acknowledgment of the truth of the statement.

  “All in due course. But now, you both must present your compliments to my dearest Lucy and meet our precious infant daughter who has stolen my heart with the briefest of appearances.”

  The General pushed back his chair, hoisted his huge girth and led them out of the office and into the center hall.

  “Gentlemen,” he said in his typical booming voice, addressing the waiting officers. “You must excuse me for some time. I hear my dearest wife has summoned me.” Hadley and Will followed Knox to the second floor as each pine stair groaned in protest at the General’s more than two hundred and fifty pounds.

  “I believe we will find the ladies in what we have designated our sitting room.”

  Knox rapped on the door that opened inward and uncharacteristically, motioned for Hadley and Will to precede him. Mrs. Knox was seated at an oval sewing table, busy with embroidery. The baby was sleeping beside her in a cradle near the fireplace. Lucy was speaking to someone hidden from view by the open door. Will stepped into the room, bowed to Mrs. Knox and turned toward the other person. There was Elisabeth, his Elisabeth, looking more beautiful than he ever remembered.

  The General laughed heartily and clapped Will on the back. “This is a most excellent surprise and gift, Will is it not?” He beamed at him. “If you were not speechless with surprise, you would ask how this came to be.” Knox did not wait for Will to inquire. “Mr. Van Hooten graciously consented to permit Elisabeth to assist Lucy with our beautiful baby daughter.”

  “Nonsense, Harry,” Mrs. Knox interjected. “Elisabeth has a mind of her own.

  She persuaded her father to acquiesce. As I had to prevail upon my own father to permit you, my dearest, to court me.”

  There were more words between the General and his wife. Captain Hadley said something to Mrs. Knox. All these sounds swirled around Will who heard the words and phrases but was oblivious to their meaning. He only had eyes for Elisabeth. He took two steps toward her and reached for her hand. He felt her soft skin and looked into her blue eyes that mirrored her delight at having surprised him and the obvious reaction of pleasure on his face.

  “Well, Corporal Will Stoner. Have you lost your ability to speak since we last met?”

  “I have thought of seeing you almost every moment since we parted in New York.” She looked radiant to him. A deep ochre colored shawl covered her shoulders. She wore a thin scarf with a flower pattern around her throat.

  She tilted her head and raised one eyebrow. “And what about the other moments? Did you not think of me then?” she said, squeezing his hand.

  “What young Will means to say,” General Knox interjected, “is that as soldiers, engaged in battle, there are moments when we do not and cannot think of our most precious loves because of the precipitous dangers at hand.” He stood behind his wife, gently rubbing her shoulders. She reached back and patted his meaty hand affectionately.

  Elisabeth looked at Will with concern. “Your few letters mentioned little of the dangers and battles,” she reproached him gently. “It is difficult enough to be apart. When we communicate we must be truthful and leave nothing to imagination. If you are silent, I have the most desperate, darkest thoughts.”

  “I have had similar dark thoughts,” Will admitted. “Mostly of never seeing you again.”

  “Well said,” Lucy chimed in, in her delightful lilting English accent. “I have lodged the same complaint against my dear Harry, to no avail. He claimed my safety and happiness, the sole object of his loving heart, deterred him from describing the perils to which he has been exposed. Now we are together and are able to share the joy of love and companionship and the fruition of our union.” She gestured for Will come nearer. “You knew me when I was heavy with child. Now come gaze upon our beautiful daughter.”

  He felt a slight pressure on his hand as Elisabeth walked with him, her arm locked in his. He stared down at the sleeping infant in the cradle, her wispy brownish hair curling from around a round knit plain cap, her little pink fingers clasping the fringe of her blanket, embroidered with red and purple flowers.

  Will was intensely conscious of Elisabeth beside him. He inhaled the clean smell of her skin, the lavender scent of her hair and heard the sound of her silk skirt rubbing against the roughness of his linen regimental coat. He was also keenly aware of his own body smells, ashamed of himself and afraid he might repel her. She gave no sign of discomfort, holding his hand and telling him how little Lucy was such a good child, how she was almost one and could crawl and giggle and how well she traveled and how bright eyed and intelligent she was.

  “She is truly beautiful,” Will said looking into Elisabeth’s eyes. He noticed a few small pox marks on her cheek and neck. She had risked her health and beauty to be inoculated so as to be allowed to join him at the Army’s encampment. He gently raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I am truly overjoyed to see you again, Elisabeth. If you will stay with Mrs. Knox for the duration of our winter quarters, I would like nothing more than to spend all of my time, as permitted, with you.”

  Knox cleared his throat. “Will is to be promoted to Sergeant this Sunday and there are some training tasks he will undertake for me. Most important for the efficiency of our artillery.”

  “
Oh, Harry,” Lucy interrupted. “What would you have done if my father had required I not visit your bookstore for your fashionable morning discussions and insisted I attend to my duties as daughter of the Royal Secretary of the Province?”

  Knox smiled affectionately at his wife. “I was progressing to that point my dear. Of course, despite Will’s new duties, there will be ample opportunity for Will and Elisabeth to be together.”

  A soft gurgle from the cradle signaled that little Lucy had awakened. Elisabeth released Will’s hand, bent down and lifted the infant from her crib. Holding the Knox’s daughter, Will thought Elisabeth transcended her own innate beauty. She seemed more lovely and glowing in the candlelight. The General held out his thick, beefy arms and little Lucy giggled and nuzzled into the folds of her father’s fleshy neck, while Knox covered her chubby cheeks with loud smacking kisses.

  Hadley politely noted it was time they left. They bowed to Mrs. Knox. Will took Elisabeth’s hand in his. “I will see you tomorrow and the day after and every day you are here in this camp. I cannot believe my good fortune that you are really here.” He kissed her hand, feeling its softness again and vowed to himself to scrub in the bitter cold with snow and shave with ice water if necessary, to make himself more presentable to her.

  “Sergeant Stoner,” she said looking up at him, her blue eyes gleaming with pleasure. “I also am truly overjoyed to see you well and unharmed. I have had dreadful thoughts of your being wounded or ill. You must tell me of all your experiences, keeping nothing back. If you so promise, I will forgive you for your incomplete letters,” she said and squeezed his hand in farewell before releasing it.

  Outside the room, Will broke into a broad grin. “Last night you remarked the General was the happiest man in the camp. It is I who takes that prize,” he whooped as he exuberantly leaped down the steps two at a time, followed by Captain Hadley.