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By Root 1308 0

no horses in the street at all, the few civilians all on foot. Well, of course. It has one meaning. The army is mobilizing. We require all the beasts of burden we can find. There was a sound behind him, the voice of one of his aides, no words, just an odd grunt. Cornwallis turned in the saddle, was suddenly engulfed in a putrid smell, put a hand to his face. He looked down a small side street, a dark alley now a river of black water. There was a flurry of motion, rats, some scurrying through the water itself. He prodded the horse, moved past the scene, looked across the way, another side street, saw two large black birds perched on a large mound, thought, My God, it’s a dead horse. He glanced back to his men, saw twisted faces.

“Decorum be damned. Double speed, gentlemen.”

The horses’ hooves rattled on the stones beneath them, and they were quickly past the grotesque horrors. He held up his hand, slowed them down again, tested the air, the smells still finding him, new sources of filth down each narrow street. He felt impatient anger, thought, Why has no one seen to these conditions? To simply abandon a carcass? Sewage flowing down the streets…are we so abusing this place that we ignore common sanitation? No excuse for it. He knew the answer already. From the moment General Howe believed he was replaced, he ceased to concern himself with anything so mundane as sanitation. And, now, Henry Clinton was concerned with nothing but leaving.

He was close to the Penn mansion, the headquarters, could see guards, two dozen or more, lining the narrow drive. He turned the horse, moved between the men who snapped to rigid attention. In the yard, grooms were tending to horses, and he saw one familiar mount, the horse that carried the old Hessian, Knyphausen. He felt relief, had hoped he would see the old man again. He knew there was the chance that Knyphausen might have sailed away with Howe, recalled as well in some kind of show of support from the Hessian king, a gesture to lessen the embarrassment to both Howe and King George. Yet Knyphausen had done nothing to share in Howe’s disgrace, and it would make no sense to the army, pulling a good commander away from the troops who needed him. But no one could predict the pride of kings.

He dismounted, handed the reins to a waiting aide. There were other familiar horses as well, tied up in a row along one side of the house, and the relief began to fade. I did not expect a full-scale council. Well, of course, if General Knyphausen is here, they will all be here. He prepared himself for the cascade of friendly greetings, the social banter, saw the wide door pulled open, another squad of unsmiling guards lining the porch. He could already feel the somber mood of the place. The sheer number of guards was Clinton’s signature, as though some great cataclysm might suddenly assault the headquarters. It was a distinct contrast to Howe’s headquarters, a command that always seemed verged on the brink of a party. As he stepped into the house, more guards manned the hall, stood at each door, the base of the staircase. He could see staff officers in motion, men disappearing into rooms, one man scurrying up the stairs. There was no hint of laughter, no conversation, no sound at all but his own hard boot heels. He stood still for a moment, waited for someone to notice him, could feel Clinton’s presence. Well, of course. There is a message here, an aura he must create. This is the center of the entire war.

“General Cornwallis, welcome, sir!”

He was surprised to see John André, the man rushing toward him as though late for an appointment. André stopped just in front of him, somewhat too close. Cornwallis backed up a step, and André said, “By His Majesty’s good graces, you have returned to us! I must say, sir, this entire army will receive you with a thousand huzzahs!”

“Thank you, Major. I do not require such a reception.” André continued to beam at him, and Cornwallis was suddenly uncomfortable, said, “Major, is General Grey in attendance?”

André understood now, said, “Oh, quite, sir! I am no longer