The Glorious Cause - Jeff Shaara [201]
As the distractions of theater and Mrs. Loring had begun to grow stale, he had taken to the faro hall, a gambling den established to provide entertainment even to the lowest-ranking officers. It was yet another scandal, and he endured another round of complaints, some of the commanders speaking out on behalf of their subordinates. The card game was less entertainment than a place for young lieutenants and captains to be sheared with the precision of a barber, and throughout the winter, some of the least experienced officers had gambled themselves into bankruptcy, some even forced to resign their commissions. Howe’s investigation of the game had been conducted by means of his regular participation. Whether or not the game was honest hardly mattered. General Howe seemed to win with astounding regularity. Any further complaints were simply ignored.
IS THERE STILL NO ATTACK TO BE MADE?”
The room was quiet, no one willing to respond, and he looked toward Charles Grey, said, “Well, General? Are we to sit here, captive in our own complacency?”
Grey was an older man, thoroughly capable, and Howe had always felt the man’s subtle lack of respect.
“I have made my reports previously, General Howe. I have no reason to amend them.”
“Ah, yes, indeed, General Grey. I am merely attempting to make more current that which I must communicate to Lord Germain. By your reports, then, I may advise the ministry that the rebels have continued to occupy an unassailable position at Valley Forge. Any attempt on our part to dislodge them would cost us far more than the benefits to be gained. Is that our consensus?”
He scanned the room, saw dull stares, some heads down, still no one speaking.
“Now, gentlemen, let us not give these meetings such a downward cast. Despite what may be transpiring in Parliament, or what excuses General Burgoyne may be presenting there on his own behalf, it is not this army who has suffered a defeat. It is not this army who has forced Lord Germain and Lord North to champion the cause of capitulation to the rebels. No, gentlemen, this army is holding well to its guns! Spring is drawing close! No matter what superior position Mr. Washington now commands, the rebel army is disintegrating before our very eyes! Once conditions permit, our new campaign will make short work of our foe, and of this war!”
He concluded the meeting, did not speak to anyone as they left the grand hall, the dining room of his headquarters. He stayed in his chair, waited for the last man to leave, Knyphausen, the old Hessian looking at him with undisguised sadness. His aides were there now, and he said, “Away! Close the door. Do not disturb me.”
The cavernous room was silent, and he sat back in the chair, let the feigned enthusiasm slip away, thought, It was a grand show. But I am truly sick of it, of the advice, of the criticism, of the meaningful glances. What was that look from Knyphausen? Pity? Every one of them knows that this command is tottering on the precipice. He thought of his words, new campaign. He had already received instructions from Lord Germain, a shift in strategy. It was widely assumed that the French were close to some agreement with the rebels, and if a French fleet was to throw their weight to the war, it could be a disaster for British land forces. Already, a strong line of British