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By Root 1114 0

men lined up to kick at him, gave him back curses of their own. But none of the physical abuse silenced the fiery loyalty of Honeyman’s dedication to his king. The sport played itself out, and when the turmoil had subsided, the guards brought him to Washington, the staff assuming that this man might be useful after all, might be inclined to reveal some bit of information. The guards themselves were skeptical that the man could be of any use for anything but a hanging, and when Washington ordered them away, there was surprise and deep concern that this crazed Tory would be allowed so close to the commander, that Washington would tolerate the presence of this violent man in his office. Even the staff was surprised when suddenly, the door to the office was closed by Washington himself.

ARE YOU ALL RIGHT, MR. HONEYMAN?”

The ropes were gone now, and Honeyman flexed his jaw, laughed, said, “They could have used a clean handkerchief. But, just a spot of rum would wash away the taste.”

Washington brought out a glass, and Honeyman drank it in one quick gulp, and with a raspy breath said, “Better. Much better. Perhaps one more, sir. Helps the memory, you know.”

Washington knew the routine, poured another, and Honeyman put it away as well. Honeyman saw a chair now, dropped down, tested the soreness in his side, said, “At least one of your young fellows has boots still. I’ll be feeling that kick for a day or two.” He laughed, and Washington sat patiently, and now the complaining was past, and Honeyman said, “Last things first, General. Have you considered the manner of my escape?”

“We’ll lock you in the guardhouse. There are loose boards in one corner. Wait for the distraction, the guard will change about midnight.”

Honeyman rubbed his chin, said, “They’ll get off a shot or two. Worrisome bunch. They shoot better than the British.”

“They had better.”

It was not a joke, and Honeyman, all business now, said, “The cattle business is doing very well in these parts, General. Sold a nice fat herd to Colonel Rall just yesterday. He has twelve hundred mouths to feed, you know. Hessians all. And, of course, there’s Colonel von Donop, a few miles below, Bordentown, about the same number. From the barrels of good spirits I seen stacked up in Trenton, them fellows are looking to a nice party come Christmas Day. A very nice party. It’s particular to them folks, you know. Hessians, whatnot. They do like their Christmas.”

Washington sat back in the chair, listened to every detail of Honeyman’s report, felt his heart beating faster in his chest. Honeyman kept talking, details of the British garrison in Princeton, the location of the rural outposts along the road, while Washington listened silently, his breathing in a quick steady rhythm, the plan forming in his mind. It was more than troop numbers and placement of guns. The key was the certainty that bored soldiers in winter quarters would be allowed their one celebration, their one pause from the routine of marching and formations in the bone-chilling cold. The morning after their celebration, there would be the fog of sleep, the aftermath of the holiday that would leave most of Rall’s men in no condition to fight anyone. Christmas indeed.

13. WASHINGTON

DECEMBER 25, 1776

HE HAD BEEN NEAR THE BANK OF THE RIVER SINCE FIRST DARK, HAD felt the wind rising, the temperature dropping as each hour ticked by. The troops had been kept at drill, practicing formations for most of the afternoon. Though the men didn’t understand the sudden flurry of activity, their officers had been ordered to keep them close at hand, no lapses in discipline, no opportunity for a potential deserter to find himself alone. As the day grew sharply colder, the drilling had kept the men in motion and so, they were not stiffened and uncomfortable. By nightfall, the entire army had a sense that something would happen, very soon, and that it was important.

He sat on a wooden box, an old beehive, wrote orders out carefully, handed each one to waiting couriers, looking hard into the eyes of each man. There could be