The Glorious Cause - Jeff Shaara [127]
“I do not know if Mr. du Coudray will become an asset to this army, but there is one inescapable fact. He is French. He brings with him not only a letter from Mr. Deane but the high regard of the French court. We are not in a position to insult or disregard French officers who have come to our shores to be of service. The congress has not met the needs of this army, despite my every plea. If they find pleasure in anointing foreign officers according to the splendor of their uniforms, we must accept that. Insulting congressmen will not secure shoes for our men. Allowing them to feel a constructive part of our efforts might.”
Knox stared at Washington with drooping sadness.
“Sir, does this mean I am no longer in command of the artillery?”
Washington took another bite, seemed to force a swallow.
“General Knox, you will command the artillery in this army until I order otherwise.”
Greene was feeling confused now.
“But, sir, you said we must obey the congress. This order says that this du Coudray fellow now outranks every one of us but you.”
Washington seemed to stifle a smile.
“Mr. Greene, I never said we must obey every whim of the congress. Since they delight in issuing paper, perhaps you gentlemen should issue some paper of your own. If three of my most experienced commanders threatened to resign, congress would respond with some outrage of their own. How dare you, and so forth. They might even request that I deal with your insolence by removing you myself.”
Greene felt a headache brewing.
“Sir, this is madness. With all this army has accomplished, must we be subject to this absurd meddling?”
Washington was all seriousness now.
“Mr. Greene, it is the nature of the world. What else can we do? There is fear enough in Philadelphia that this army will vanquish the British, and then vanquish the congress itself. They grant me the power to raise an army, and so fear that power that they do nothing to provide for the very army they seek. The meddling is constant because the fear is constant. They fear the dangers of military power, while they know that without this army, they would hang from British gallows. They meddle because they must. I accept that meddling because I must. I despair that this army will face destruction from the congress long before we face it from the British. Despite their rhetoric and their fears, every one of them knows this army is the only salvation. Despite their meddling, they must ultimately seek my approval.” He paused, and Greene saw the familiar sadness, the weight of so much settling on the man’s broad shoulders. “As for Mr. du Coudray, I have given thought to his position. Since he feels suited to an artillery command, I will recommend that congress grant him a title, something with grandeur that will satisfy the man’s ambition, such as inspector general of ordnance and military manufactories. You see, Mr. Greene? Often, it is no more than a game.”
Greene looked across at Sullivan, who was beginning to smile, saw Knox now rising a bit, his dark mood lifting. Greene was still angry, knew that Washington was trying to put the best face on a dismal portrait. He backed his chair away from the table, stood.
“With all respects, sir, if it is a game, it is a desperate game.”
JULY 10, 1777
Washington had repositioned the army, organizing the new recruits into their respective units and placing those units where they would be the most useful. The headquarters was still at Morristown, though Washington had stayed on the move, nervously inspecting the defenses up the Hudson toward Peekskill. Stirling’s division had been sent upriver, reinforcing Israel Putnam, who now commanded the defense of the Highlands. Greene remained near Brunswick, and all along the Jersey shore, lookouts kept a sharp watch for movement by the British ships. For several days, that movement had been continuous and confusing. Clusters of frigates would suddenly file up the Hudson, raising the alarm up toward the Highlands.