The Glorious Cause - Jeff Shaara [156]
Cornwallis said nothing, was not sure how far Knyphausen would go.
“How will you end this war, General Cornwallis?”
He thought a moment, said, “We must first defeat the rebel army.”
Knyphausen seemed to jump at the words.
“Yes! So then, why do we sit in this pleasant city? Winter is still far away, and I feel as though I am in winter quarters.”
Cornwallis felt the discomfort returning, said, “Sir, General Howe is aware of our mission. We will attack the rebels when the time is right.”
“Please, do not take offense, General. I do not mention this to insult you, or General Howe. This is a conversation between two good soldiers, nothing more.”
Cornwallis heard the compliment, said, “Thank you, sir. But, you must understand, I am not comfortable criticizing my superior officer. It is not appropriate, sir.”
“All right then, I will speak, and you just listen. You have your honor to protect, your duty to perform. I have been through all of that. An old man learns that time is short. If I do not speak my mind while I am able . . . well, death provides ample time for silence. It cannot be helped.” He laughed again, and Cornwallis could not help a smile. “You still have time to win this war, General. But your army has made two mistakes in this campaign. You have captured the rebel capital as a substitute for capturing its army. There is no value here. General Howe would disagree, and he may have convinced London of that. But even the rebels know that we have done nothing here to end this war.” He paused, looked at Cornwallis with a hard stare. “I was surprised that you supported General Howe’s decision to capture this city. You are certainly a good tactician. I had thought you were a better strategist.”
“You said two mistakes, sir.”
“All right, General, you do not have to justify your decisions to me. The second mistake. You have failed to assist General Burgoyne. General Clinton is in New York furious that he is unable to obey Lord Germain’s order, to support your army up north. I too receive letters. Baron von Riedesel commands the Brunswick troops with General Burgoyne. He is a good man, a very good soldier. He has communicated his displeasure, and the displeasure of General Burgoyne that so little cooperation has been provided by General Howe. I was told, as were you, that General Howe would capture Philadelphia and return in time to assist General Burgoyne’s campaign. And yet, here we sit, a very long way from New York, with a rebel army still opposing us. There is talk in your headquarters that General Howe has expressed his wish that General Burgoyne’s mission fail. Is that accurate?”
Cornwallis felt the heat of embarrassment rolling up his face, looked down at the floor.
“No need to answer. I said I would talk. General Howe believes that he will have favor with your king if he succeeds, and Burgoyne is defeated. That is a serious error in judgment. General Howe is the commander in chief. On this continent, he is responsible for every victory, and every defeat.”
Cornwallis slowly raised his head, saw Knyphausen looking at him, a strange sadness on the man’s face. The old man tapped the book again.
“Remember Gibbon, General, the lessons of history. Your king rules an empire as did the Caesars. You and I, we serve, we share the same duty, to defeat the king’s enemies. If we fail, this old man will return to Hesse-Cassel with stories for his grandchildren. What will you do?”
Cornwallis shared the man’s sadness now, said, “I will continue to serve. Surely, an old soldier knows that.”
“Yes, of course. But good soldiers should have good commanders. It does not always happen, of course. That’s why men like Edward Gibbon have so much to write about.”
There was a soft knock on the door, and von Donop appeared, said, “General Cornwallis! Forgive me, sir. There is an urgent message from General Howe. His troops