The Glorious Cause - Jeff Shaara [328]
HE HAD BEEN INVITED TO JOIN DE GRASSE ON HIS FLAGSHIP, SURPRISED that a senior admiral would even acknowledge his authority. The memories of Rochambeau were still sore in his mind. Rochambeau had made it plain that the senior French commanders had little respect for Lafayette’s rank in the American army, as though he was still some pretender, seeking adventure and a lofty reputation. It was little satisfaction to Lafayette that most of the strutting martinets who had done so much to dazzle the congress were gone. Some had returned quietly to France, some had vanished westward, to find some savage adventure on the Indian frontier.
The French fleet had blocked the capes at the mouth of the Chesapeake, and effectively sealed the York River from any traffic. But de Grasse had not sought any engagement with the British onshore, and the few British frigates anchored at Yorktown wisely made no attempt to engage a fleet that was vastly superior.
Lafayette did not know de Grasse beyond the man’s extraordinary reputation for naval command, and his legendary temper. De Grasse had sent his flatboat north of the British outpost at Gloucester, a dangerous landing given the proximity of the British lookouts. But the British had made no efforts to expand beyond their shore batteries, and Lafayette had already placed a body of militia on that side of the York River, to keep close watch on the British fortification. As de Grasse’s boat rowed him close to the magnificent flagship, Lafayette began to feel his youth, a very nervous young man about to stand before a mighty father. He had not met the man, and already, he was intimidated by him.
He was helped up the ladder, stood on the deck of the massive warship, the Ville de Paris. The crew had come to full attention, and officers were falling into line. He saw an officer bound up from the main hatchway, stand stiffly aside, and now another man emerged, older, moving slowly, a regal rhythm to his steps. The older man stepped up onto the deck, and Lafayette stared wide-eyed, the man towering over him, taller even than Washington. He was near sixty, looked at Lafayette with deep-set, heavy eyes, seemed to examine him with a quick appraisal. Lafayette waited, felt even more of a child now than before, his dread in full blossom. De Grasse said, “Welcome, General Lafayette. I am Admiral François, Count de Grasse. I am at your service.”
THE GOBLETS WERE SILVER, THE WINE A DEEP RED, FAR SUPERIOR than anything Lafayette had enjoyed in his own camp. He examined the artifacts that adorned the office, an extraordinary collection of prizes and decorations. De Grasse allowed him a moment to be suitably impressed, then said, “I have sent word to General Washington and General Rochambeau that I can remain here but a short time, not more than a few weeks. I have a pressing need to return to the islands. Do you anticipate we may complete our campaign here in good time?”
“Sir, that is a question best put to the commanding general. I cannot say precisely what our campaign should involve.”
“I assume, General, that you intend to destroy the army of General Cornwallis.”
It was a concept Lafayette had never truly considered.
“Yes, sir, that would be an exceptionally fine plan. My mission has thus far been to obstruct the enemy’s movements and seek some opportunity to annoy him.”
De Grasse seemed amused, a slight smile, said, “General Lafayette, I have sailed here with a force of thirty-four of His Majesty’s finest warships. The ship on which you now sit carries one hundred guns, and is the most powerful warship on this earth. I don’t wish to dispute your orders, but I imagine General Washington intends that this fleet do more than . . . annoy the enemy. Perhaps your situation would be improved by the addition of my particular cargo.”
Lafayette had barely touched