"Tomorrow after the men have their breakfast."

  A stir went through the others in the room. Something big was in the air. They looked at the general's face, which had a stern and far-off look. His mind was set. The course was laid. What was it he could see in his distant stare?

  ***

  The Next Morning

  “Then it’s settled. We move forward with the plan,” General Washington said.

  General Ewing spoke, “While I still have my reservations on this, I agree. Something must be done against the bloody British and their hired Hessians. I hope that Nature and Nature’s God smiles on this bold endeavor.”

  “I’m in agreement with General Ewing,” Colonel Cadwalader said. “If we can pull this off, it could knock them down for some time. My opinion is they will have their guard down with the weather being like this and it being Christmas time.”

  Others at the war council nodded. Jasmine observed the men's faces for signs of deception but saw none, just looks of reservations and doubts. It was a bold plan, maybe even brash and foolhardy, but it could work. She was a little surprised at how readily she was accepted into the group as Mr. Jasper Phares. The good word General Washington gave to the men about her had done the trick. Clearly, the men held him in high standing, and this group treated his word as gospel.

  “We proceed with the plan,” General Washington said. “Begin all needed preparations for this immediately, and nothing's to be said to the troops about our destination or the exact date. I know our adversary has spies about, and loose lips could sink this operation before we even attack.”

  The men agreed and slowly left the room to begin the implementation of the plan. At last, when all had gone except Billy and Jasmine, the general sat down and sighed. A far-off look came again to his eyes.

  “General, sir, I think it went well," Billy said.

  His eyes focused on his servant, “Better than I expected. There’s still much that can go wrong and much to do, but we must do something. Timing is everything and the time is now or never. We must strike when they think they have us beaten or all could be lost.” He looked at Jasmine and asked, “So what do you think, Mr. Phares?”

  “I listened to all that was said. It is a truly bold plan, but the devil’s in the details. I believe it can be done. It won't be easy, and I doubt if all will go as planned, but yes, I believe it can be done."

  “Good,” General Washington said. “And now I have a special assignment for you, Jasmine.”

  Jasmine looked at him knowingly. “Does it involve wearing a dress?”

  General Washington smiled. "It does, and I know I can count on you to carry it out. Soon I need the ears of the British to have some information, information that will turn out to be slightly off but believable."

  “You can count me in, General,” she said. “Sometimes, a lass can be a truthful deceiver.”

  The general smiled again. He knew he had found the right person to do the job.

  ***

  The next day Jasmine, dressed as a servant woman, went to the trading post in the small town. The owner was a man who claimed to be a Patriot but was a known Tory sympathizer. Her instructions were to purchase a quantity of bread for the troops. The owner casually noted she was new to him, and she told him she was at the Patriot's camp and was doing her job to see the men had provisions. He flirted with her as he got her order. This annoyed her, but she tried not to show it. Jasmine fingered the long knife hidden in her dress, wanting so much to use it dramatically to let him know his advances were less than welcome, but she resisted the strong urge. This would ruin the plan. When he turned away, she carefully dropped a handkerchief to the floor. In it was a note signed by General Washington directing General Ewing and Colonel Cadwalader to wait for orders on offensive actions until after the first of the new year. It said they were to remain in place and see to the needs of the men at present and have them ready for actions planned at that time.

  All went well. The owner gave her more bread than she asked for. She did not put a knife to his throat as she wanted, and through a window, she saw him find the dropped note. The general knew the letter would then be carried to Hessian forces by Tory spies. His spies got word back to him that the Hessian guard who had been on full alert had dropped back to regular watches and were preparing for a Christmas Day celebration with much imbibing.

  As a ruse, Militia Commander Griffin, on December 22, engaged the enemy at Iron Works Hill. This too went well. Hessian forces took the bait and traveled south away from Trenton, one of Washington’s possible targets, to Bordentown and waited there for an enemy attack that never happened. As planned, this would put them too far away to return to Trenton’s aid. This information was relayed to General Washington. The parts of the puzzle were falling into place. Trenton was now a more desirable target for attack than his original choice of Mount Holly. He informed his staff of his decision on December 23. They would attack Trenton before dawn on December 26.

  There would need to be crossings of the Delaware River at three different places into the New Jersey countryside for a three-pronged attack on the Hessian garrison in Trenton. General Washington had seen months earlier that all available boats were on his side of the river, not the other. The Hessians and British were unable to attack as his army regrouped and planned.

  On December 24, boats were brought down the river and hidden near Taylor Island. Christmas Day found the river filled with ice flows. If the river froze over, the enemy would soon not need boats to cross and attack. The weather grew worse and worse all Christmas night. Conditions went from miserable to horrible, but it was now or never. General Washington gave the order to proceed. “Death or Victory” was the password.

  Throughout the night, a wind like a hurricane blew sleet and snow. Seamen used ferries and Durham boats to carry men, horses, artillery, and ammunition across the ice-filled river. General Washington was on the first boat, and he watched impatiently as his careful plan grew further and further behind schedule. At three AM, the last boat crossed, and it carried Jasmine Phares, who the general had ordered to remain and wait for news on the other crossings.

  She saw him anxiously waiting and went directly to him. “Mr. Phares,” he asked as his staff crowded around. “What news of the other crossings?”

  She shook her head. “Not good, sir. It’s not confirmed, but the early word is neither was successful. We could be the only troops to make it across to the eastern side of the river.”

  A lot of frustration and anger came to his face. “What do we do, sir?” said one of the senior staff.

  “I need a moment to think and reflect,” the general said. “We’re so far behind one more moment will not make any difference. He walked off about one hundred feet. No one followed him. They could see him kneel in the snow, and he bowed his head in prayer. Minutes passed as the staff waited. General Washington arose and began to walk back. As he got close, a man asked, “What do we do, general? What do we do?”

  He stopped in front of the men. Fire from the torches lit his face. He seemed to be looking right through them. “We go on. Death or Victory.”

  The men repeated his words. “Death or Victory.”

  Chapter 14

  “I’m freezin’ me balls off,” someone uttered among the infantrymen as they marched. Jasmine laughed to herself. If she had any stones to freeze, they’d be like ice also. If only they knew. The wind continued to howl as Washington’s army ground on toward the Hessian camp in Trenton. His informants in New Jersey had provided him with the enemy strength, around 1400 men total. He had 2400 at his command and had split them into two groups upon reaching the hamlet of Birmingham, one under his leadership and the other under General Greene, for a two-point plan of attack. Local civilian patriots had led them down the twisting and confusing roads. Many men lacked shoes and wore rags wrapped around their feet. Blood on the ground and snow showed the paths they had trod. General Washington rode back and forth, encouraging the men to continue on as swiftly as they could. Already, the first hint of dawn was showing on the eastern horizon. They marched on toward the small, unwalled town of Trenton, consisting of only two main streets and about 100 homes.

  Hessian Commander Rall slept little that night. It was Christmas. What was he doing so far from home in this God-forsaken frozen wilderness? After another swig of hard cider, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. How he wished for a good German beer on this miserable night. How could he have known 36 years ago when he became a soldier, he would end up like this? His own commander despised him, and his troops certainly did not admire him. They felt him too soft and not ruthless enough in spite of the many battles he had been in. “He’s lazy, loves life too much, and cares little about us,” were comments he’d overheard from the soldiers under his command. He ignored requests for building fortifications around the camp. They didn’t need them and wouldn’t be around that long to bother.

  Talk was of attacking the rebels once the river froze and ending this rebellion once and for all. Perhaps then he could return to Germany and live out his remaining days peacefully. That was a pleasant thought. Privately, he laughed at the idea of an attack from Washington's ragtag troops, but in letters to his superiors, he asked for reinforcements that never came. He knew about covering his backside if something did go wrong.

  Perhaps tonight, his troops would think more highly of him. He would overlook the men’s imbibing and send out very minimum patrols. Only mad dogs would be out on a night like this, and it was Christmas Day. What kind of a man would seriously consider crossing an ice-filled river in a blizzard at night on this Holy Day? Such thought was lunacy. Still, he’d been warned of an attack. There had been one by raiders, but it was small and quickly repulsed. The enemy had little appetite for battle and fled in disarray after a few shots were fired. That was all that had happened and would happen. Now they could relax again. He drifted back off to sleep in his chair.

  The sun was over the horizon when the Patriots reached the outskirts of Trenton. Hessian soldiers spotted them and fired. General Washington led the charge on the outpost, and the enemy was soon in retreat after suffering minor casualties. They regrouped on a hill and met the American forces head-on before again retreating to the town. General Washington ordered men to block the road to Princeton, the apparent escape route. The battle moved to the village where Hessians sniped from windows. Commander Rall awoke, and he hastily ordered defensive measures.

  American artillery was brought up and pounded Hessian positions. Again they fell back and were met by other Hessians soldiers coming to battle. Guns blazed in the streets of the town. The second group of American militia entered the fight as Patriot artillery continued to tear into enemy positions. The Hessians retreated again after an American bayonet charge. General Washington shouted orders as he rode back and forth among his men. Billy and Mr. Phares joined in and fired volley after volley at the Hessians, many who had just awakened from sleep and were only half-dressed.

  Rall rallied his troops, and they prepared for a counter-attack. "Forward," he yelled. “Advance. Advance.” They began to move to the sounds of their brigade band’s flutes, drums, and bugles, encouraging them on. From his position on a hillside, General Washington saw this and ordered his men to meet the charge. The Hessians found themselves attacked from three directions. Town's people began firing from their homes at their unwanted Hessian "guests." A struggle for a cannon broke out, but the rebels prevailed, and the battle turned into a rout after Hessian Commander Rall was seriously wounded. Seeing this from the hill, General Washington yelled to his men, “March on, my good fellows, after me,” as he led the charge down to town. His forces pursued the Hessians to an orchard where they were soon surrounded. They readily agreed to terms for surrender.

  Another separate regiment of Hessians tried to break through Patriot lines, but couldn’t and were surrounded. They, too, choose to surrender. The battle was quickly over with a decisive victory for the rebels. Twenty-two Hessians would die, including Commander Rall, who expired later that same day. Eighty-three were wounded, and close to nine hundred men were taken prisoner. American losses were minimal. Two died from exposure, and five others were injured, one very seriously. George Washington’s personal physician and friend would treat him. The injured man’s name was James Monroe, and he did recover with time. Men whose names would become famous were also with General Washington that fateful night, names like James Madison, John Marshall, and even rivals Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr.

  All four Hessian colonels died, and another 200 enemy soldiers were captured south of Trenton. Also seized were enemy cannons, 1,000 arms, 40 horses, and much-needed ammunition. With the taking of the Hessian storehouse, the rebels gained desperately needed supplies, many items the Americans needed just as much as horses and weapons, if not more. Among the booty were shoes and boots, bedding and clothing, tons of flour, meats salted and dried, and much ales and liquors. General Washington put Mr. Phares and Billy in charge of the beverages. The troops would be rewarded with these later. The general knew what calamity could result with drunken soldiers from what had happened at Fort Necessity years ago, and he did not want a repeat of that terrible incident.

  Word soon reached the general, giving positive confirmation that they were the only American forces to have made it across the Delaware River into New Jersey. His 2,400 men were isolated. Without the additional 2,600 men still on the other side, he could not continue on to attack Princeton and New Brunswick. He chose to retreat back to Pennsylvania with his prisoners and supplies from their storehouse. The men were worn out and needed a safe place to rest.

  This small battle stunned the British and galvanized the colonial effort. It provided a vital psychological advantage for the Americans. Re-enlistments would increase. Congress would provide much-needed money for supplies and troop pay, which always seemed to be in arrears. An army on the brink of collapse had turned the tide of the war.

  Jasmine, aka Mr. Jasper Phares, stayed with General Washington as his agent for the rest of the war until Cornwallis surrendered at Yorktown, Virginia. Jasmine was a welcome companion and confidant to Lady Washington while she overwintered with her husband. The young woman, Jasmine, often talked with Billy and learned much about the lives of slaves. Never before had she known one as a person. Previously, she had only seen them from a distance working the fields like beasts of burden, and this experience with Billy affected her deeply.

  Both Jasmine and Billy had many adventures during the war while they served General Washington and the patriot cause. Tales and stories were told about them that became myths and legends. Jasmine went on to lead an exciting and full life and became the only woman ever entrusted with the secret of Braddock’s Gold, but all of these stories for both of them must remain for telling at another time.

  Chapter 15

  Monday morning, one week later, 1998

  Well, here he was again, sitting in a booth at Linda’s Restaurant for lunch. What a week it had been, one he didn’t want to live over. Miriah had brought a cold home from school, and now everyone had it, her mom, the baby, and now doggone it, Tom was feeling run down, and his nose was running. Another delivery driver had backed his truck into one of Tom's, and that truck was in the shop. And then the big truck developed a bad miss in the engine. If it went down, he'd be short a truck, and he didn't want to rent a truck from Penske unless he had to. Penske was a good company, but he hated to spend the extra money unless he absolutely had to.

  The fish weren’t biting in the Potomac River this morning earlier either, and then he nearly ran a big, dark navy blue SUV into a ditch on a turn on narrow Dans Run Road. A deer had been standing a few feet off the road on a hillside. Its eyes seemed to be judging him, and that gave Tom the willies. His eyes were fixed on the deer until a horn blast brought him back to reality. Though the glass on the SUV was heavily tinted, Tom thought a Hispanic man was driving it. Tom's heart pounded almost out of his chest, and he checked to make sure he’d not wet himself. He wondered about the other man.

  Padre had called and asked him to meet him here today. The good Padre was running late and had not called. Wonder what he had on his mind? It seemed much was happening in a hurry for Padre, and a lot could go wrong for both of them. And then, what about that call from Rev. O’Reilly? He was the pastor of the Berean Independence Baptist Church over in Fort Ashby. He requested Tom come over today for a talk at 4. Tom didn’t know him very well, but they were on friendly terms. Whatever was on, his mind seemed important though he never did get around to saying exactly what it was — only one way to find out.

  He sipped at his coffee as he waited. Tom took the liberty to order for them, two specials, sauerkraut, hot dogs, and mashed potatoes. He hoped this would be okay with Padre. His phone began to buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out. The number read 000-000-0000. The man who called himself the Benefactor was calling. How much longer would he wait for Tom to remember where the gold was located? That information remained lost in the PTSD black hole in Tom’s head. “Hello,” he said.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Kenney,” the electronically altered voice said. “I trust all is well with you.”

  It just went from bad to worst. “I’ve had better days, but I’ll make it,” Tom said.

  “Did I catch you at a good time, Mr. Kenney?”

  “You seem to know when I’m not busy, but no. Now’s not a good time. I have an important appointment, and the party I’m meeting just walked in the front door.”

  “Very well. I will call back later. It has been a while since we talked. I need an update.”

  “I thought that was the case. Call back in about two hours, and you should find me available."

  “Yes, that should be doable. I will look forward to it.”

  The phone line went dead just as Padre sat down across from him. “Did I interrupt something important?” he said. “You look like you don’t feel so well. Bad news? Sorry, I'm late. My day off has been hectic so far. What's up?"

 

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