The Glorious Cause - Jeff Shaara [256]
THE LUNCH WITH MORRIS HAD BEEN MODEST, AT WASHINGTON’S REQUEST. He had suffered several days of an uncomfortable malady, the result of too much feasting at too many lengthy banquets. Morris seemed to understand, and Washington appreciated that his friend had no need to make a display of abundance.
He sat back in the chair, watched as Morris filled a pipe, tamping the tobacco down slowly, carefully. Morris caught his look, said, “My one true pleasure. Virginia’s gift to the civilized world.” He lit the pipe, extinguished the long match, winked at him. “Well, one gift. She has a talent for supplying good generals.”
Washington was surprised by Morris’ good spirits, said, “Forgive me, Robert, but I expected you would be in a somewhat sour state. I saw the newspaper this morning.”
Morris shrugged.
“Today they assaulted me. Last month, those same writers spewed forth so much bilge in your direction. I should be flattered at the attention.”
“Does it not bother you that some are questioning your honesty? The article today came very near calling you a thief, stealing from the public funds.”
“I am neither angered nor threatened by it, George, because I know the source. They are the same voices who have assaulted the integrity of Silas Deane, men of intense ambition and no means to realize it. Jealousy, George. There are men in this nation, men in this congress, for God’s sake, who sit on their hands and spout furious criticism at every turn. They speak against me, against you, against your quartermaster, Mr. Greene. They lash out at any policy, any decision that calls for someone to actually do something. They are infuriated that the congress is not allowed to exist solely as a social gathering. They bristle at the notion that a congressman should shoulder some actual responsibility. It infuriates them. They find me especially infuriating. I am, after all, in business. I make a profit from what I do. How dastardly of me!”
“There is no shame in business, I would think.”
“NaÏve, George. Permit me the lack of humility, but I happen to be very good at managing my affairs, and the affairs of my company. I have profited by those affairs, and would have done so whether or not there was a war. That’s a simple fact that escapes my critics. It is assumed that anyone who acquires profit in these times must be a thief of one sort or another. Often, that kind of criticism is just. There is immense abuse, George, right here in Philadelphia. You see it everywhere you go. Have you attempted to purchase a saddle for your horse? New boots, perhaps? A bushel of grain? All are necessities of war, you might say. And all are being offered at exorbitant prices by men who have come to see the war as an opportunity to steal from their country. Those people expect only to be considered to be in business as well. Thus it is a simple matter for the newspaper to hang us all with the same noose. My crime? I make a small commission on every shipload of cargo my company receives and delivers. On the other side of the Atlantic, Mr. Deane was guilty of the same offense. Thus we are condemned for feeding at the public trough, as though we should offer our services for free. No matter that I must feed my family by the purchase of meat that is no less plentiful than a year ago, but is ten times