The Glorious Cause - Jeff Shaara [182]
Wentworth was sitting back in the chair, shocked into silence by the outburst. Franklin felt the churning inside of his mind still, leaned toward Wentworth, said, “You dare to mention your king’s soldiers! They have burned our towns, killed and tortured our citizens, laid siege to our fine cities! And, as if your own soldiers are not capable of inflicting sufficient horrors, your king employs foreign barbarians to further his revenge on the innocent, those who only wish to live in freedom from the outrage of your king’s absurd policies, which change with the wind, to suit whatever madness he may this day enjoy!”
“Doctor, your anger is most unseemly. I bid you, do not allow your passions to undo our good work. I did not intend to offer you fuel for your anger. If I have given you personal offense . . .”
“It is not personal, sir. It is national! It is the outrage of my country pouring forth, the disgust at your notions of how we must serve the whims of your monarch, and the corrupt policies of your ministry! Your country is an ailing patient, sir, rife with disease and infection. My country is young in spirit and body, and seeks alliances with those whose sight is toward the future. We have no interest in holding tightly to the sickness of the past!”
He realized he was shouting, had worked himself into a frenzy of raw anger. He stopped, felt his heart tearing through his chest, his hands shaking. Wentworth was staring dumbly, his mouth open, and Franklin sat back in the chair, let his breathing flow out. He felt the control returning, sat silently for a moment, then reached for his watch, thought, Nearly two hours. Sufficient time, certainly, to impress any French observer. He looked at Wentworth, who seemed completely lost. Franklin was calm, the job complete. The polite smile returned, and he said, “Mr. Deane should be arriving shortly. Since the hour is growing late, and my cook here does admirable work, I would be delighted if you would stay for supper.”
JANUARY 7, 1778
Franklin could never be sure if Vergennes’ spies had made their report, but a message from the French Foreign Ministry was too sudden to be coincidence. The word came less than one day after Franklin’s meeting with Wentworth, carried by the hand of Gerard himself, signed by Vergennes. If the American envoys would agree to negotiate no further with anyone representing the English government, the creation of the necessary paper would begin immediately. Gerard was discreet, would say only that there had been a change of heart in the French court. For reasons unexplained, King Louis XVI had been persuaded that France would make official its own alliance with the Americans.
29. WASHINGTON
JANUARY 1778—VALLEY FORGE
THE MAN WAS HUGE, A SCOWLING HULK, RODE AT THE HEAD OF A long column of troops who were as ragged as their commander. They passed through the outposts to unexpected cheers, moved through the frozen earthworks as huddled soldiers rose to greet them. They pushed their way up the long snowy hill to the plateau, each man amazed at the sight of this strange new town, built by the hands of Washington’s army. The cabins were waiting, the grim vacancies created by so many who were sick or simply gone. As they spread into their new homes, their fresh fires added new clouds of smoke to the vast sea of black air that drifted over Valley Forge. They did not complain of the choking misery of the cabins, the hard cold ground kept away by the thin layers of worn blankets. Instead, they were grateful for the shelter, the long miserable march from Saratoga now complete. It was a homecoming of sorts, this hearty regiment of Virginians, led by the crude and powerful man who inspired as much good humor in the army as the passion for a good fight. With word of the return of these lean and victorious riflemen, the stories began to flow, the pride of accomplishment, these men who had done so much to destroy Gentleman Johnny Burgoyne. As their revelry began, their leader continued on to headquarters. Daniel