The Glorious Cause - Jeff Shaara [191]
A LETTER HAD COME FROM LAFAYETTE, AND WASHINGTON READ THE report with a mix of anger and relief. The Board of War had made loud its boasts to the young Frenchman that three thousand troops would be waiting for his arrival in Albany, fully prepared for the march into Canada. They would be joined as well by an outpouring of militia from the area, the call going out to so many of those who had served Gates’ command against Burgoyne. But Lafayette arrived in Albany to find that the troops numbered barely over a thousand and that no one had made any effort to bring out the militia units at all.
The army had never been able to mount a successful invasion of Canada, and despite his faith in Lafayette’s zeal and ability, this mission had never inspired Washington’s confidence. The mission was simply halted, and he was relieved that the young man would return to Valley Forge, to wait with the rest of the command for the new campaigns of spring.
Washington ordered Lafayette’s letter copied and sent to the congress. Now, the Board of War would discover that their casual planning and boisterous predictions had collapsed around them, that men who shaped and viewed their strategy through the bottom of a wineglass could not manipulate his army for their own designs. It was a public embarrassment to the Board of War, and a hard blow to those who had championed Horatio Gates as their one true military leader.
At Valley Forge, Martha’s presence added a softness to the headquarters that brought other wives to camp, Kitty Greene, Lucy Knox, and a subdued but refreshing social scene. There would not be the finery and ballroom antics of the British, but muted gatherings more fitting to the mood of the army, to the resources they could muster, and the gentle style of the one woman who brought it together.
The wagon that had followed Martha into camp had brought the small luxuries that would most readily survive the journey, cheese and nuts, hard breads and dried fruit. It was a welcome addition to the typical routine, and now, in the cold evenings, the headquarters was a softer place, a beacon of candlelight. The mood of the house spread to the army as well, and even the angry protests from men who had seen neither meat nor rum were muted by her presence.
By late February, there was a new routine, music and singing, even Washington aware that the army was changing, the horrors and sacrifice now a shared experience that united the men in their cause. There was no militia now, the army at Valley Forge did not suffer from the sudden loss of regiments, or the sudden arrival of raw, undisciplined troops. There were few expiring enlistments, the men more focused on enduring the rest of the winter with as little misery as the weather would offer and as much sustenance as the new quartermaster could provide.
They had visitors still, and Washington relied on Martha’s natural cordiality with the civilians. With the foreign soldiers, Washington had accepted his role, had become practiced at diplomacy. The congress had been chastened, was not as likely to bestow vast authority on every European officer who demanded it. But the foreigners continued to come, some smarting from the lack of gratitude from the congress, some just seeking their opportunity for glory and adventure. As the papers were forwarded to Valley Forge, one man stood out, and Washington had taken special note, the man carrying a letter from Ben Franklin. He was a Prussian, unusual, and word came to Washington that the man had impressed the congress with the same humility they had seen in Lafayette. Like the young Frenchman, he came only as a volunteer, sought service by any means Washington