The Glorious Cause - Jeff Shaara [70]
11. CORNWALLIS
NEARLY THREE THOUSAND PRISONERS WERE MARCHED AWAY FROM Fort Washington. Magaw and his officers were treated with customary respect, and marched toward the city, to be housed in makeshift prisons that had once been private homes or businesses. But most of the soldiers, including the wounded, were herded to the shore of the Harlem River, and loaded onto flatboats that would deposit them into the bowels of the British prison ships, anchored in the East River at Wallabout Bay. All along the fortified lines, and in the fort itself, the British and Hessian troops gleefully stacked and counted the rebel muskets, cleaned and repaired the rebel cannon, and hauled to their own camps the enormous stores of canvas, blankets, and food the rebels had surrendered.
NOVEMBER 20, 1776
He led the crossing of the Hudson River before dawn, flatboats ferrying nearly six thousand troops to a landing place called Lower Closter, chosen for them by a local Tory farmer. They had been rowed upriver, reaching the far shore about six miles north of Fort Lee, and as he stepped ashore in gray mist, all he could see was the stark sheer wall of a cliff, looming tall above the riverbank. But the guide knew the land, and led him through a patch of dense brush that suddenly opened to a trail, narrow and tight, and nearly straight up the cliff.
Cornwallis was still not comfortable with the farmer’s claims, eyed the perilous climb with skepticism, and behind him, he could hear short groans from the men, who began to see for themselves the job in front of them.
The farmer seemed not to appreciate Cornwallis’ doubts, hissed at him with a sharp whisper, “This would be the only way up, General. You can follow me, or you can go back to your boats and find your own way.”
Cornwallis ignored the man’s impudence, thought, No, we are not returning to the boats. We are here, and we will climb. He fought the urge to give the man a warning, that any treachery would be rewarded with a Hessian bayonet. But he was in no mood for bluster or posturing. If this was the only way, then it was time to go. He glanced behind him, saw the Hessian officer who commanded the jagers, the troops that would lead the way, said, “Captain Ewald, you may follow Mr. Aldington.” He glanced up, the daylight now showing the way, the trail a few feet wide at best, the steep ground covered with sharp rocks, an uneven road, no place for horses. Ewald moved quickly, and the Hessians began to file past, the farmer leading them up the hill. Cornwallis moved back toward the river, the flatboats still pulling ashore, more men stepping out into formation, waiting their turn to make the climb. He saw a cannon rolling up and out of one boat, the wheels set carefully on long wooden planks. The sailors held tight to the ropes, the big gun now ashore, and Cornwallis saw the blue coat of the artillery officer, said, “Major Landry, have your men retrieve those ropes. The horses must remain here until the men have reached the summit. The climb is too severe for the horses to draw the cannon. They must be pulled up by hand.” Landry looked at the big gun, another one still in the boat, pulled by the sailors, and around the boat, the men were looking upward, eyeing the climb. Cornwallis knew what he was asking, said aloud, “No man will be compelled. I would ask the seamen first. You men are handy with the rope, but no order will be given. I ask instead for volunteers.” He paused. “This is an important business today.” It was an unusual request in an army where the men simply did what they were ordered to do. But Cornwallis would not abuse his men, knew that some were more suited for the work than others. If this day went as planned, they would need their strength.
Men glanced