Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 369 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 369: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page 349 of "The Bull Before the Gun" This is a page of running prose from a Victorian penny dreadful novel. The text describes a Revolutionary War narrative: Major-General Arthur Leslie has landed at Portsmouth with fifteen thousand men, prompting emotional reactions from a character named Troupe. The passage then shifts to battle scenes at Guilford Courthouse and Hobkirk's Hill, focusing on a prisoner of war named Andy watching from a jail stockade in Camden. After Troupe awakens wounded in a wagon during Greene's retreat, chaos erupts among the injured men—apparently caused by the arrival of British redcoats. The prose combines melodramatic sentiment with action and dialogue typical of the penny dreadful genre.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
THe BuLL BEFORE THE GUN 349 give the enemy trouble, though abandoned to ourselves!” Major-General Arthur Leshe had landed at Portsmouth!— with fifteen thousand men. This statement was blotted with tears! How [Troupe swore over that blotted page! Then an illuminating line: “Where is Unaka? He’d never leave Tom! Find Unaka!” “By George! Where zs that redskin?”’ How little he dreamed that the Atlantic and the Carib Sea rolled between. At Guilford Courthouse, Captain Anderson “came through the shears.”’ But at Hobkirk’s Hill he received a severe flesh-wound. Listen! There was a pitiful eye at a knot-hole in the stockade of the jail at Camden, where Andy, a prisoner of war, peeped at the battle. What a bloody peep-show was that! What a heart- sick, miserable little spectator, he! But Andy was spared one thing. He saw a young officer roll from the saddle. Stampeded horses, with empty saddles, galloped over him. But Andy did not know it was Dare-Devil’s brother! This was well. For the hands that had pried the knot out of the plank with a broken razor were cold with despair; and Andy’s heart had gone down — not into his boots, but into his freckled feet! When Troupe opened his eyes, he was one in a wagon- load of wounded men. Greene was in full retreat. They crossed a creek. The wagon staggered up a slope and stopped. Uproar! Shouts; yells; imprecations. “What’s the matter with em?” groaned a voice at Captain Anderson’s ear. “Tf you'll take your elbow out of my eye, I'll see,” Troupe made answer. “Tf I could flop my elbows about — like a chicken-cock! —I’d raise up and see for myself,” groaned his neighbor again. “It’s the redcoats, wagonload. The clamor increased. Excited numbers bellowed and swore. 3) muttered another of the ghastly CORNICLMOOO® SS (©) im