The Glorious Cause - Jeff Shaara [73]
The officer nodded, and Cornwallis spurred the horse gently, moved up along the column, could hear more muskets far ahead, scattered, the trees clearing in front of him. He could see jagers still in motion, more of Ewald’s men focusing on the direction of the firing, and now he saw a low thin cloud, just past the trees, thought, Smoke. But no, too wide, too much. It’s not smoke. It’s dust. It’s an army on the march.
He saw his aide now, riding hard toward him, and the man reined up, said, “General, Captain Ewald has located the rebel position! They are spread out to the west, on a road ahead. They are marching in quick order, sir. They know we are in pursuit! It has to be the garrison from Fort Lee, sir. Captain Ewald requests the army advance in strength. The enemy is not putting up a fight. The captain says he believes he can cut off their retreat!”
The man was out of breath, and Cornwallis said nothing. He reached into the pocket of his coat, retrieved the map, unfolded it. The road out of Fort Lee led southwestward, to a bridge on the Hackensack River. It was the only direction the rebels could retreat, and there was only one bridge that would allow them to escape across the river. If Ewald could move quickly enough, get to the bridge . . .
He folded the map, returned it to his coat, felt another piece of paper in his pocket, his fingers holding it for a moment. It was his orders from General Howe. He left it in his pocket, knew already what it said.
“You will advance on Fort Lee, and secure its capture.”
There was no room for discretion, the orders distinct and definite, and what was not written on the paper had been made clear at his last meeting with Howe. The capture of Fort Lee was the highest priority.
The aide was staring at him, had said all he could, and Cornwallis looked up the road, more scattered musket fire, thought, No, we are not in pursuit of the enemy. We are in pursuit of a place.
“You will return to Captain Ewald and order him to break contact with the rebels. I do not wish him to suffer casualties. The life of one jager is worth more than ten of the enemy. He will follow his original instructions and advance his men only to Fort Lee.”
THEY WERE CLOSE TO THE RIVER, AND THE HESSIANS HAD SPREAD INTO a line of battle, the response to more musket fire. But there was no force in their way, the fire coming only from scattered groups of rebels, who were quickly captured. They were stragglers from the main force, the sick and lame, or others, who for some reason of their own had stayed behind, had not marched with the rest of their army. Cornwallis ignored them, knew they were acting without orders. He focused instead on the fort itself, saw the Hessians moving past a group of small houses and huts, saw tents now, the smoke from a fire. The Hessians were quickly inside the fort, and he waited for the sounds of a fight, but there was only silence, and he knew what they had found. Nothing.
He reached the fort, his staff moving past him, but he knew there was no danger, ignored protocol, rode in with them. The Hessian officers had their men under control, the soldiers searching through rows of tents, opening wooden doors to tin huts, storerooms. There was a burst of wild laughter, and he looked out toward the river, saw a man sitting astride the barrel of a cannon, waving his hat, then falling forward, sliding to the ground. A soldier rushed toward the man, then stopped, his bayonet fixed on the man’s back, but the man was still laughing, rolled over now, looked at the Hessian with wide eyes, then laughed again. The soldiers began to gather around the man, their sergeant reaching down, hauling the man to his feet. The man made a ragged salute, said, “Would you gentlemen care for a wee dram?”
The sergeant looked up at Cornwallis, who said, “Yes, quite drunk. He is harmless.”
He climbed down from the horse, the fort now filling up with more soldiers, British as well. Cornwallis began to walk past a row of campfires, saw pots of boiling liquid, caught the smell of soup, roasted meat.