The Glorious Cause - Jeff Shaara [83]
“And, sir, where is Colonel Reed now? He is in Philadelphia, speaking those words to members of congress. No doubt had he received this letter first, he would have related Lee’s message as well.”
Washington was weary of the subject, said, “We will discuss this no further. These men have a right to feel discouraged. This army has done very little to inspire anyone to our cause. I admit, I am distressed by Colonel Reed’s willingness to communicate his feelings directly to General Lee. But we know, gentlemen, that their views are not isolated ones. Look around you, Mr. Greene. Entire companies have abandoned this army. Enlistments are expiring daily, and you might as well attempt to stop the wind as to prevent them from going home. Many of the reinforcements we received from General Gates arrived in camp only to depart again. I was distressed to learn that General Gates has failed to secure their reenlistment before he sent them to this command. Many more terms expire at the end of the year. If I cannot find some means of persuading these men to remain with this army, by January, we will have in this camp fewer than fifteen hundred men.” He paused, could see Greene absorbing the words, the numbers. “So there is disaffection? Discouragement? A lack of faith in my abilities? That can be no surprise, gentlemen. I had so hoped to persuade General Lee to join his men to this camp. He inspires the congress and the army in ways I do not. We must not be so concerned with allegiances and loyalties, and who conspires against whom. We must do everything in our power to hold this army together. If we do not, then I believe . . . the game is nearly up.”
He felt his hands shaking, gripped the letter still. He was embarrassed, regretted the outburst. He folded the letter slowly, steadied himself, returned it to its envelope, said, “Major, you will see that this is forwarded to Colonel Reed, accompanied by my apology for having opened it. It is after all, his personal correspondence. There will be no judgment. We will say no more about this.”
Tilghman took the letter, seemed nervous, said, “Sir, I do not understand Colonel Reed. But I hope you do not believe there is disloyalty on your staff. I assure you, sir.” The man was near tears, and Washington wanted to put that aside, erase the moment.
“Mr. Tilghman, I do not require your reassurances. No cause that was ever worthy was without its turmoil, its trials, its hopelessness. We are not defeated yet.”
There were more horsemen, some of his guard leading a courier through the trees, and Tilghman reacted quickly, turned his horse, rode past the guard to intercept the man. The courier pointed up toward Washington and was clearly agitated, his arms in motion, then calmed, the message delivered. Washington could see Tilghman’s reaction to the message, the young man lowering his head, his face in his hands. Washington looked away for a moment, stared across the river, and Greene said, “No doubt, word of some new piece of good fortune.”
Tilghman was moving again, rode up close, and Washington saw tears, and Tilghman said, “Sir, there is news. General Lee . . . has been captured by the British.”
IT HAD BEEN NEARLY TOO EASY, LEE CARELESSLY SPENDING THE NIGHT AT a private home well outside the protection of his own camp, a patrol of British cavalry stumbling on the place, bagging the extraordinary quarry with almost no resistance. Washington could only be certain that General Howe would take very good care of a man whose ambition might be of more use to the British than to Washington.
The troops who had marched with Lee began to arrive in camp, commanded by John Sullivan. Though the enlistments continued to expire, Washington knew that for a short while at least, he could keep a force of several thousand men in the field. But he could not prevent the desertions, and those who remained