The Glorious Cause - Jeff Shaara [82]
The two men moved through the trees toward him, unsmiling, no calls of greeting, and Washington waited for them to draw close, said, “Official business, gentlemen?”
Tilghman glanced at Greene, said, “A packet of letters has arrived, sir, addressed to Colonel Reed. The colonel is in Philadelphia, and I thought, sir, in light of events, there might be some importance in reviewing their contents.”
Washington still didn’t know why Greene was there, said, “You suggesting I read Mr. Reed’s private mail, Major?”
“I’m not at all certain it is private, sir. It could certainly be something official. The packet is from the headquarters of General Lee.”
Washington was unsure why this was important, but clearly Tilghman was agitated, and Washington held out his hand, said, “Yes, well, you may be correct, Major. Let’s have a look.”
Joseph Reed was Washington’s staff secretary, a Philadelphia lawyer. Washington made use of the man’s considerable talent for writing by having Reed draft orders and compose many of the letters Washington had to issue as part of the routine business of command. Reed was a definite contrast to Tilghman, the two men roughly the same age, but the redheaded Tilghman was more plainspoken, with an unrivaled passion for the cause of independence. Unlike the more professional Reed, who saw the staff work as employment, Tilghman had volunteered, was unpaid, and carried no rank as authorized by congress. The title of “major” was Washington’s own salute to the young man, whose discretion and loyalty to Washington was absolute.
Washington examined the letters, saw one with Lee’s own handwriting, something with which he was quite familiar by now. He hesitated, thought, Well, yes, this one could certainly be official business. He opened it slowly, began to read, stopped, looked at Greene, who sat expressionless. Washington read further,
. . . lament with you that fatal indecision of mind which in war is a much greater disqualification than stupidity or even want of personal courage . . . eternal defeat and miscarriage must attend the man . . . cursed with indecision.
It felt like a fist, a sharp punch in his stomach, and he lowered the letter, a silent moment, and Greene said, “More of the usual, sir? More recommendations on how we should better serve Lee’s strategy?”
Greene had become Lee’s most vocal critic, and Washington would not have allowed such a comment in headquarters. But out here, Greene was only stating what Washington was feeling himself. He did not respond to Greene’s sarcasm, said, “It seems that Mr. Reed has been in correspondence with General Lee . . . on the subject of my unsuitability to command this army.” He paused, felt a cold fog in his chest, said, “This is not for the camp, gentlemen. I have revealed too much already.”
Tilghman was wide-eyed.
“Oh, certainly not, sir.”
Washington looked at Greene.
“General? Am I understood?”
Greene stared at the paper in Washington’s hand, said, “There is a great deal of this kind of talk going around, sir. Not here, but in Philadelphia, certainly.”
“I am aware, General, that there are those in congress who have their own designs on my command. It is a cross every commander bears. I had hoped that among my own staff . . .” He saw the image of Reed in his mind, a man he considered a friend. “I had hoped there would be loyalty.”
Greene did not hold back, said angrily, “No commander should bear scheming and duplicity. This is near treasonous, sir. Colonel Reed is conspiring with General Lee . . .”
“No, Mr. Greene.