The Glorious Cause - Jeff Shaara [184]
Morgan was stalking around the room now like some great cat, his thick arms moving as he spoke.
“Hero? The heroes of that fight were Benedict Arnold, and Enoch Poor, and old Ebenezer Learned. My riflemen played some smart role as well. I had to seek out General Gates to get my orders to advance. He was back in his headquarters having a card game with some British officer. He would rather have spent that day reminiscing with a prisoner than leading his men into battle. And, damned if he didn’t come prancing out in the field just as we had the enemy in full rout! Then he began to spout all this talk . . . glorious victory! His glorious victory! There was some in my group had to hold tight to their muskets, or they mighta drawed a bead on that fat little partridge!”
His fury had exhausted him, and he moved back to the chair, set it upright with a sharp clatter, sat again.
“Hero of Saratoga! I’d plant my boot right where that hero does his best work!”
Washington was stunned, saw Greene staring openmouthed, a smile now spreading across Greene’s face, and he said, “Well, now General Washington, what do you think about that? Am I mistaken, or was that a right smart bit of fresh breeze that blew through this place?”
Morgan sat with his arms crossed on his chest, still mumbling to himself. Washington didn’t know how to respond, focused on Greene’s obvious pleasure.
“It is not a habit we should encourage. However, I am grateful for your candor, Daniel. I was aware that Mr. Gates had a desire to elevate his station. I was not aware that he would be so clumsy about it. It is not for me to make light of this, nor to contradict his version of events at Saratoga. He was in command. He does have the privilege of claiming the victory. But you are correct. He is in York right now, assuming his new duties on the Board of War. I suppose we should be grateful that his new position has removed him from the battle.”
“Board of War?” Morgan unfolded his arms, leaned forward, his hands on his knees. “What in blazes is that?”
Greene said, “You have been too far away, Daniel. Congress has decided that they had best administrate this war from behind. General Washington is still in command in the field. But the Board of War will determine what that command shall be.”
Morgan sat back in the chair, seemed dazed.
“From behind? Then General Gates is in the right place.”
Washington looked toward the door, saw movement, Tilghman peering in.
“Sir, can I get you anything?”
“Thank you, no, Colonel. We will be retiring soon. You may as well.”
Morgan watched the man move away, said in a low voice, “Should we be concerned about spies, George? With all the talk about intrigue . . .”
“Mr. Tilghman is most loyal, I assure you. I have no fears about the men in this command. We have had our difficulties, certainly, some of those who have shown themselves to be more concerned with their place in history than in the good of this army.”
Greene said, “The intrigue is not in this camp, Daniel. It’s in York. There is considerable effort being made to sway the congress to replace the general with someone of a more heroic quality.”
Morgan shook his head.
“You mean Gates. How far is York? Twenty miles? Twenty-five?”
Greene nodded.
“Maybe I should pay a visit to this Board of War. Kick in a door or two. I’ll show them some heroics.”
Washington looked at Morgan closely, thought, He cannot truly be serious.
“Daniel, there is no time for issuing threats to those who oppose this command. If you are correct about Mr. Gates, the truth will prevail, the man himself will determine his place in this war. We can only do what is required of us at the moment, and our situation in this camp is most difficult. I would hope you would confine your efforts to the welfare of your men. The Board of War is my concern, and they have not yet intruded into the business of this army. If we are fortunate, they will confine their lofty opinions to the meeting rooms in York.”
HE STARED AT THE LETTER