A Drummer in Red

In 1781, a year of destiny, Washington, Lafayette, Cornwallis, and three young men––one American, one French, and one British––discover that life has something different for them than anything they imagined.

How can you prove your father’s not a deserter when you don’t know where he is and he hasn’t communicated in months?

What do you do when you’re fogged in on the waters of Chesapeake Bay in a small boat and your sole companion doesn’t even speak English?

Lewis Elliot and his mother, Stella, are forced to flee their Baltimore home for the modest farm of their cousins in Gloucester County, Virginia. They arrive just as the feared Lord Cornwallis and the hated Colonel Banastre Carleton take up residence in Gloucester Point and across the York River in Yorktown. The war heats up as Cornwallis fortifies Yorktown and Carleton begins foraging raids in Gloucester County.

Then, while Lewis and his cousins, Lloyd and Tetty, are off to Gloucester Courthouse to try to sell enough tobacco to provide for the family, Carleton raids the farm and Stella receives a life-threatening injury.

Through battle, betrayal, unexpected alliances, and, apparently, the Hand of God, Lewis and his cousins and friends take a role in the events leading to Cornwallis’s surrender on October 19, 1781, after the last major battle of the Revolutionary War.

An excerpt from A Drummer in Red:

The rock was covered only with barnacles and a few oysters not worth bothering with. Lewis wandered in to the beach and sat down on the sand. He didn't mind the solitude. It was pleasant for a while, being alone; not having to take constant abuse from his cousins and not having to provide silent support for his proud, bewildered, mortified mother. But after he had sat on the shore for some time, Lewis began to wonder what was keeping Lloyd and Tetty. He stood up and removed his hat, wiping it across his brow and then replacing it. Shielding his eyes with his hand over the end of the hat, he looked toward the north side of the next island.
It had been shortly before mid-day when they left, a hazy, sticky, extremely hot day, as all the days had been since he had left Baltimore. He began to feel thirsty. But he knew there was no point in even attempting to drink the water. It wasn't as bad as water all the way out in the bay, because they were about nine miles from the mouth of the river here, and fresh water flowing from the northwest had sweetened it a little. But it was still far too salty to drink. Oh, well, he thought, they'll be here soon.
He lay on the beach and covered his eyes with his arm. He thought of Lloyd rowing the boat bare chested. It was so hot. He wished that he dared to take his shirt off, but he didn't want to get sick. Lloyd might, but he didn't. He knew that exposure to the air was unhealthy, and that this was an unhealthy climate anyway, infested with yellow fever, small pox, malaria, a bilious fever, consumption, and any number of other scourges and agues which one could catch by just lying around. His mother had warned him about it any number of times. He would just have to be hot.
Anyway, shadows were beginning to cover him and a cool evening breeze was coming in. He smacked a mosquito. They're not usually out so early in the day, he thought. He sat up suddenly. Was that Lloyd? Again he scanned northward. No. Nothing. Well, what had the noise been? A British patrol? He scanned south and east. Nothing there, either. He looked behind him, west. Then he realized from the lengthening shadows of the trees that the sun was going down. In an hour it would be night.
"Oh, no," he said, right out loud. It occurred to him that perhaps Lloyd wasn't so gullible as he had thought. He nodded his head. Yes, they had figured him out. They had figured out that it was no accident that sent Lloyd reeling into the river. And now Lloyd wasn't coming. He wasn't coming back at all.

Dr. Saunders was born and raised near Boston, Massachusetts, and steeped in the history of that city - so crucial to the founding of the United States. Subsequently, he had the opportunity to live in four different European countries and travel extensively, both in Europe, and throughout the globe. Coming back to America after living in Europe for twenty-five years, he noticed an appalling lack of knowledge of our history, particularly in young people. He wrote the Young America series as a way of informing young people about our history and also promoting thought about the issues that caused dissension in those early days and are with us still.