The Glorious Cause - Jeff Shaara [136]
As the evening had grown late, the pleasantries and good manners were replaced by more serious talk of the danger to the city, more advice on military defenses from men who had never seen their enemy. Washington would not offer any details of his plans for the defense of Philadelphia, knew that even among friends, strategy was a risky thing to divulge. He endured instead the advice, allowing the men to point their fingers at him, the wine loosening their inhibitions, and their tongues.
He had nearly forgotten the young Frenchman. Lafayette sat against the far wall, had spent most of the long evening smiling politely. He was a small man, thin, not especially handsome, with red, nearly blond hair that had already receded above a tall forehead. Washington was surprised that he been so quiet, did not seem to carry the air of the self-important. There had been toasts to the French alliance, to Lafayette himself, but the young man never placed himself at the center of attention. It was a relief to Washington, that the evening might not be a spectacle of vanity after all.
The voices were droning on around him, and he could not focus, was feeling the strain of his day in the saddle. He shifted himself slightly in the chair, blinked hard through tired eyes, looked across at the young Frenchman now, saw fatigue, thought, Yes, young man, ambition is a strenuous cause. You’ve no doubt been hard at it. Throughout the evening, Washington had noticed Lafayette watching him, the young man especially attentive when Washington spoke. He could see the young man fidgeting now, strangely nervous, and Washington thought, Well, I cannot avoid the issue much longer. At least he does not seem to be as bold as Mr. du Coudray. He waited for a lull in the conversation.
“Tell me, Mr. Lafayette, what are your intentions here?”
Washington regretted his bluntness, tried to smile, take the rude edge away from his words. Lafayette looked at him with wide eyes, the room now silent. The Frenchman stood.
“General Washington, I have here a document.” He fumbled in his pocket, produced a folded piece of gray paper, opened it, and Washington could see the young man’s hands shaking. “Sir, since I am still learning the complications of your language, it is possible that I can answer best by reading to you the commission your congress has so generously bestowed.” Lafayette read now,
Whereas the Marquis de Lafayette, in consequence of his ardent zeal for the cause of liberty in which the United States are engaged, has left his family and friends, and crossed the ocean at his own expense to offer his services to the said states without wishing to accept of any pension or pay whatever and as he earnestly desires to engage in our cause, Congress have resolved, that his services be accepted, and that, in consideration of his patriotism, his family and illustrious relations, he shall hold the rank and commission of major general in the army of the United States.
Washington felt the familiar stab in his stomach, could hear Greene’s voice in his mind, the explosion of sarcasm. Major general? Well, he is after all, only nineteen.