The Glorious Cause - Jeff Shaara [245]
“Papa.”
Kitty was beside him, and he felt her hand slide around his waist, and she said, “That’s right, Martha.”
He had no words, put his hands out as well, slow, careful, and for the first time, he held his daughter.
TIVERTON, RHODE ISLAND, AUGUST 5, 1778
“We shall be pleased to participate in this plan at your command, General Sullivan. However, we are concerned that your forces here are, forgive me, inadequate to the task.”
Greene waited for the explosion, could say nothing. The command was Sullivan’s, and no one but Sullivan would respond. Sullivan rose from his chair, and Greene watched the short stout man run a hand through his thinning hair, turn away from the table, pacing slowly. He seemed to be holding tight to his words, and Greene thought, Careful, John. It is time for diplomacy. Sullivan spun around now, hands on his hips, and Greene saw defiance in the man’s face, the words slow and precise.
“Admiral d’Estaing, the militia are arriving daily. I had hoped to have more in camp by now, but it cannot be helped. Their commander, General Hancock has assured me that General Washington’s plea has reached every village in the area. They are coming.”
“That would be . . . John Hancock?” D’Estaing seemed impressed now. “We have heard much of this man. He is a great leader. Certainly he will assume command here?”
Sullivan seemed to deflate, and Lafayette said, “Excuse me, General Sullivan, if I may.”
Sullivan said nothing, made a quick wave of his hand, and Lafayette said in French, “Admiral, John Hancock commands militia only. He is not an officer in the regular Continental Army. General Sullivan is the commander here.”
“Marquis de Lafayette, I have seen nothing here except militia. Even the men you brought here seem unlikely to wage a serious fight.”
Lafayette lowered his head for a moment, said, “Admiral, with all respect, the two brigades who accompanied me here are veteran units. They are some of the finest soldiers in General Washington’s army.” He looked at Sullivan. “My apologies, General. I did not wish to be rude. We should converse only in English.”
D’Estaing shrugged his shoulders, said to Sullivan, “The marquis explains to me that this is your command. I am pleased to cooperate. Your plan is sound. Your troops will cross over to the island from here. My ships will approach from the western side. I will land the marines as you make your crossing.”
Sullivan stopped his pacing, seemed surprised by the sudden agreement.
“That is fine, Admiral. Thank you. I propose August 10. That will allow us time to complete assembly of the militia.”
D’Estaing stood now, his aides behind him rising as well.
“I will return to my ship now.”
The men around the table all stood, and d’Estaing made a short bow to Sullivan, marched out of the room. Sullivan waited for them to move outside the house, stepped toward the window, watched as the men were led to carriages, the short ride to the shore boats. He looked back at the men around the table, focused on Lafayette, said, “I trust he will comply with our wishes.”
Lafayette nodded.
“General Sullivan, the admiral knows his duty. We should have every confidence in this mission.”
Sullivan reached for his hat, moved toward the door.
“I appreciate your hopefulness, General. I assure you, we will complete our part of this.” He motioned to the guard beside the door, the door opened for him, and Sullivan said, “I must see to the militia. Hancock promised another thousand by this afternoon. Anyone to accompany me?”
He was out the door now, and the others followed. Greene waited for a moment, then he was alone with Lafayette, said, “It was a fortunate insult.”
“In what way, sir?”
“Fortunate that John Sullivan does not speak French.”
“Should I not feel the insult as well, sir? Those brigades are my command. I am well aware of their abilities.”
Greene sat now.
“I would imagine to a French admiral, we are all militia. We had best become accustomed to it.”
Lafayette shook his head.
“It is not necessary for Admiral d’Estaing to insult this