Sophia's War
Authors: Avi
Glossary of Eighteenth-Century Words
F
OR
K
ILEY
F
RANK
Dear Reader:
It is a terrible thing to see a man hang. But that is why I did what I did. Was I right to act in such a way? You must decide. If, when you reach my last words, you cannot forgive me, so be it. Just know that although you will not find me in any history book, I shall tell the truth about what happened no matter how painful to me, the authoress of these words. For on these pages I have dared to put my trust in your heart.
Sophia Calderwood
ART
O
NE
1
IN THE MOMENTOUS
year of 1776, on the twenty-second of September, my mother and I were rushing back to the city of New York. New York was where I was born, and where I had lived peacefully until just a few weeks before, when we had fled in fear for our lives. The war for our country's independence had come to our door.
First, my brother, William, along with thousands of other patriot soldiers, ferried across the East River to the village of Brooklyn to defend the city from a British attack. Alarmed by the danger, my father warned us we might have to leave. And indeed, the Americans lost that battle and retreated through Manhattan as Great Britain gained complete control of the city.
But there was no news of William.
Desperately worried, I could only hope he was still with General Washington's army, and not taken prisoner. At timesâthough no one spoke itâwe feared he had he been killed.
Too frightened to wait until we could find out, Father had said we must leave our house. It was a wise decision.
Soon after British troops occupied New York, a fire erupted and destroyed many buildings. But since we had taken flight to a friend's farm north of the city, we lacked information about our home's condition. Knowing that everything we hadâmoney and possessionsâmight have been consumed in the fire, much of our lives was in awful derangement. After some days passed, Father and Mother decided that we must go homeâif we still had oneâand try to reclaim our lives.
