The Glorious Cause - Jeff Shaara [84]
The false rumors of Howe’s certain advance on Philadelphia had thrown the city into panic, and no one had reacted with more panic than the congress. Nearly the entire body had gone, were attempting to establish a quorum in Baltimore, some means of maintaining the semblance of a government.
Since the earliest days of the war, most of congress had favored supplying the army with militia, troops who answered first to their own state. It was a means of controlling the army, many believing that a professional, permanent military would result in abuses to the very freedoms they were fighting for. But when the panic engulfed them, many in the congress had put aside their earlier misgivings. Men like John Adams and Robert Morris understood that reality often has a way of pushing aside idealism. As they made plans to abandon Philadelphia, the congress voted Washington absolute power to direct all matters relating to the army and the war. Though congress expressed its approval of Washington as the one man who could be trusted with such unlimited authority, he had been granted, in effect, the power of a military dictator.
DECEMBER 22, 1776
The panic in Philadelphia produced another surprise. Israel Putnam encouraged militia to come out, and faced with the sudden threat to the safety of their homes, over twelve hundred men had enlisted for a six-week term. When they actually appeared, Washington had met them with stunned delight. They were not trained soldiers, of course, and Washington had come to share Greene’s skepticism whether any force of militia could make a strong stand in combat. But the fresh troops were a godsend to the morale of the army, a sign that all was not lost, that the rest of the country was not ignoring the plight of its soldiers.
The congress had decreed one more bit of support for his army, but the reception from the troops was a mix of amusement and disgust. With a grand show of patriotic reverence, congress had decreed that the country, and presumably the army, observe a “day of fasting,” thought to be a necessary show of humility in such a time of peril. Washington ignored the rude comments from his men, knew as well as anyone that such a gesture meant very little to the troops who had to struggle to find any decent meal.
With a force of six thousand men, Washington knew he had the best opportunity he might ever see again to make some sharp blow to the enemy across the river. In barely a week’s time, two-thirds of his strength would see their enlistments expire. Everywhere he rode, all through the camps, the men were looking to him, the commanders, Greene and Stirling, Sullivan and Knox. Every man knew that if Washington was to quiet his critics, put a stop to all the conspiracies to remove him from command, something positive would have to happen. They were simply running out of time.
THE MAN HAD BEEN ARRESTED BY A PATROL OF LOCAL MILITIA, A loudmouthed Tory, known throughout this part of New Jersey as a trader in cattle and other goods, a provider of supplies to the British. His name was Honeyman, and he made no secret of his fierce loyalty to King George, had engaged in more than one fistfight in the taverns around Trenton, daring to shout into the face of any rebel sympathizer, quick to curse their misplaced loyalty to the cause of independence.
He put up a good fight, kicking and cracking his whip at the militiamen who managed to finally drag him from his carriage, subduing him only with a heavy rope. All the way to the camp he cursed them, and when they had heard enough, they plugged his mouth with a rag, yet still he fought, his rage coming through in grunts and high-pitched moans.
When he reached the camp, he was surrounded by guards, the gag still in his mouth, and the troops began to gather, making good fun of this violent misfit. The local men all knew him by reputation and told his story, and the response from the others was predictable. Some