Washington [258]
The debacle knocked Gates off his perch, especially after the terror-stricken general scampered away on horseback and raced 180 miles before mustering the equanimity to report to Congress. Washington, who had an unerring knack for letting his enemies dig their own graves, was tight-lipped about the defeat. Still, his loyal aides heaped scorn on the discredited Gates, who became the laughingstock of Washington’s staff. “Was there ever an instance of a general running away, as Gates has done, from his whole army?” Alexander Hamilton whooped with glee. “One hundred and eighty miles in three days and a half. It does admirable credit to the activity of a man at his time of life.”17 With the American defeat, Georgia and the Carolinas fell under British sway, making Virginia more vulnerable to invasion. For the moment, Lord Cornwallis looked invincible. Drawing the moral for Congress, Washington sidestepped Gates’s cowardice to concentrate on the militia’s amateurish performance. “No militia will ever acquire the habits necessary to resist a regular force . . . The firmness requisite for the real business of fighting is only to be attained by a constant course of discipline and service.”18
After the Camden battle, Congress relieved a chastened Gates of his command and launched an inquest into his ignominious behavior. Gates had been the last serious rival left to Washington, whose supremacy now stood unchallenged. Gates’s downfall paved the way for the return to power of General Nathanael Greene, who yearned to get back to the battlefield. He had labored successfully at the thankless job of quartermaster general and was fully rehabilitated from the disgrace of Fort Washington. Washington praised Greene for introducing both “method and system” to army supplies and reposed more confidence in him than in any other general.19 Despite Washington’s patronage, however, Greene could be an anxious, insecure man, very sensitive to slights. After the Battle of Brandywine, he had licked his wounds when Washington didn’t single out for praise his division, which had included a Virginia brigade under General Weedon. “You, sir, are considered my favorite officer,” Washington told him candidly. “Weedon’s brigade, like myself, are Virginians. Should I applaud them for their achievement under your command, I shall be charged with partiality.” 20
Greene often experienced Washington as a difficult, caviling boss, which was hard for him as he needed periodic hand-holding and reassurance. In 1778 Greene wrote a self-pitying letter to Washington that almost begged for praise: “As I came into the Quartermaster’s department with reluctance, so I shall leave it with pleasure. Your influence brought me in and the want of your approbation will induce me to go out.”21 However brusque he could be to his colleagues, Washington was also finely responsive to their psychological needs. He replied to Greene’s letter: “But let me beseech you, my dear Sir, not to harbor any distrusts of my friendship or conceive that I mean to wound the feelings of a person whom I greatly esteem and regard.”22
In removing Gates from his command, Congress certified Washington’s consolidation of power by ceding to him the choice of a successor. Always sure-handed in dealing with Congress, he decided to “nominate” Nathanael Greene for the southern command instead of choosing him outright, and Congress confirmed this superb choice on October 14, 1780. The story is sometimes told that Greene initially rejected the demanding post. “Knox is the man for this difficult undertaking,” he told Washington. “All obstacles vanish before him. His resources are infinite.” “True,” Washington retorted slyly, “and therefore I cannot part with him.”23
Owing to the huge British presence in New York, Washington didn’t think he could spare many men for the southern campaign. In giving Greene