The Glorious Cause - Jeff Shaara [95]
“General! I am here on the most urgent business, sir! I was instructed to bring this to you with the utmost haste!”
Washington was puzzled.
“Do I know you, sir? What is this?”
“I am under the instruction of Mr. Morris, sir. Robert Morris. He has instructed me to release this only to you.” The man looked at the guards, seemed uncertain, lowered his voice, said, “It is . . . money, sir. Fifty thousand dollars in currency and silver. He said you had considerable need, sir.”
Washington felt a raw shock, stared at the heavy bags, thought now of his friend Morris, the one congressman who had not abandoned Philadelphia, who had gone about his desperate work to raise the funds Washington would need to pay his army.
NEARLY TWELVE HUNDRED OF HIS VETERANS HAD REENLISTED FOR A six-week term, and every man among them had received his ten-dollar bounty. But there were others who would not stay, and Washington could find no fault with those who were weak with sickness, who had suffered the extreme hardships that weeks of poor clothing and bad food had caused. But there were others, and he sat across from one man now, could see embarrassment on the man’s face, the short, heavy New Englander staring down at the floor, his hat in his hand. Washington had not expected the man to come to headquarters with such a dismal message, but it was clear the decision had been made.
“Colonel Glover, is there no convincing you to delay?”
Glover shook his head.
“General, I’d be lying to you if I said I wasn’t looking forward to gettin’ back home, sir. You have to understand, it’s not patriotism alone that holds my boys here. It’s a love of the boats, the water. If I have to make excuses for that, then I will. We done our part, to be sure, but there’s a good many others in this country who haven’t done a stinkin’ damn thing for this army. Every man in the Marblehead regiment knows of someone up home who’ve been stayin’ put and makin’ their fortunes on the sea. And you know, sir, I’m not talkin’ about fishing. Most of those scoundrels are raiding any boat they can find, could care less whether it’s the king’s goods or our own. But you know you can trust my boys, sir. No one will be keepin’ anything for himself. We’ll be helpin’ the cause just as much, just in other ways.”
“Colonel, you’re talking about privateering. Raiding enemy shipping. It’s piracy, you know.”
Glover sat back, and Washington saw a smile.
“Now, General, we both knows that it’s them pirates that’s been givin’ considerable assistance to this war. You can’t deny it, sir. The only ones who are chokin’ on that word is the British. I hear that the congress is mighty appreciative. Between the captured guns, the supplies, and the boats themselves, well, my boys feel like they’re missin’ out on all the fun, beggin’ your pardon, sir. If this country wants to build a navy, or have any say in who runs the waterways around here, it needs men like us. After all, sir, it’s the one thing we’re good at.”
Washington felt a small hole open inside of him, said, “You have been of great value to this army, Colonel.”
“Aye, sir, and we will yet be! But I’m figurin’ you won’t be needin’ the services of a good boatsman around here for a while, and there’s good work to be done up north.”
Washington could make no good argument, knew that Glover’s men had more right than anyone in the army to claim they had done their duty. Glover thought for a moment.
“Not all of us is leaving, sir. Some got no family, and for reasons unexplained, they’ve taken to these mud swamps. So, if you’re needin’ somebody to row you across some godless bog hole, there’s some of ’em still be of service.”
It was small consolation to Washington, and Glover seemed to understand that. Washington saw the man’s face reflecting his own sadness. Glover stood, said, “Sir, with your permission, we’ll be headin’ out.”
Washington stood as well.
“May God go with you and your men, Colonel. Your country is grateful to you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Glover did not wait, would not drag out