The Glorious Cause - Jeff Shaara [146]
He expected Tilghman, heard instead the voice of Lafayette, who said, “I will retrieve him, sir.”
The young man was quickly on his horse, and Washington watched him gallop hard over the stretch of uneven ground. He is perhaps trying too hard, he thought. I should speak to him about that. It is not necessary for a commander to learn first to be a courier.
In the distance he saw Lafayette rein up beside Greene, the message delivered, and Greene looked back toward the house, was quickly up on his horse, both men now riding hard toward the headquarters.
He knew that Greene had been skeptical of the value of this young Frenchman, like Washington himself, had suffered through the preening and boasting of too many foreign officers, none of whom had shown any talent for leading an army. Washington had not yet seen any of that in Lafayette, and he knew that Greene respected his commander’s instinct. Greene’s legendary impatience had been tempered, and he would not be dismissive of the young Frenchman until Lafayette proved himself one way or the other. But there had been no bluster from Lafayette, the young man true to his word that he expected no favor from Washington until he had earned the right. Though Greene had withheld his judgment, he was cautious with his friendship, as though he expected Lafayette still to burst into plumage, assume the character of yet another foreign peacock. Washington watched as the two men moved through the brush, thought, I do not believe he will disappoint us, Mr. Greene. This army is desperate for good commanders, for leadership on every level. If Mr. Lafayette can fill those shoes, we must allow him room to do so.
The sky was cut again by a streak of fire, the shell bursting in the brush in front of the house. Washington hunched his shoulders, a reflex, the cloud of smoke obscuring the two riders. His heart froze for a long moment, and then they appeared, emerging through the smoke, and he let out a long slow breath. Tilghman was suddenly in front of him.
“Sir, we must move to safer ground!”
“It was not marksmanship, Colonel, but fortune. I cannot remove myself from any place the enemy may strike. This place is as safe as any on this ground.”
The two men reined up beside the house, and Washington moved forward, thought, There is no time for a formal meeting. Greene was still on his horse, and Washington said, “General, we have received another confirmation that the enemy is marching upstream.” He saw the grim concentration on Greene’s face, a slow nod, and Washington looked back at Tilghman, said, “Send word to General Knox. Have him cease his cannon fire.”
“Sir!”
“General Greene, it is time. Have your division advance across the creek to their front and assault the Hessian position. Report to me on your progress. May Almighty God bless you with success.”
Greene was upright in the saddle, and there was no smile, no outburst of bravado. Greene looked at him, his hands gripped hard around the leather reins, said, “It will be done, sir.”
The man was gone quickly, and Washington looked to his staff, said, “Mr. Hamilton, take word to General Sullivan. He is to advance across the creek and seek a confrontation with the enemy in his quarter. Request in the strongest terms that General Sullivan keep me informed of events. Do you understand?”
Hamilton’s face had the same look he had seen from Greene, and the young man said, “Right away, sir!”
Hamilton was already to his horse, and with one quick shout was gone.
Washington stepped back to the entrance of the small house, stared for a long