The British, going from Philadelphia to New York, marched on a slightly
curving route, while we, almost parallel with them, were advancing in a
straight line; that is, they were the bent bow and we were its cord.
Therefore we held the advantage, and it was obvious that we would
overtake them. Great hopes began to rise among us. The British army was
the larger, composed of regular troops, and far better armed than ours;
but it had just given up the chief city of the colonies, and was in
retreat. It was suffering from depression, while we were elated over the
French alliance and the sudden and favorable turn of our fortunes. Many
of us believed that a heavy blow, well directed, might now end the war.
We heard, too, that it was General Washington's own hope, and it was my
fortune to discover, through personal observation, that this was so.
It was several nights after my return with the gold. Our scouts had been
engaged in some skirmishing with British outposts, and just as the
evening fell, Marcel and I returned with a report of it. The weather was
still intensely hot, and the men, terribly tired by forced marches in
such a temperature, were lying on the ground with their faces to the
sky that they might feel the first coolness of the evening. The cooks
were preparing supper, and fires blazed here and there; but we were too
languid to show much energy, and the camp was unusually quiet.
We made our report to the colonel; but he considered it of sufficient
importance to be heard by the general-in-chief himself, and he directed
me to take it to him.
"You will find him among the trees," he said, pointing to a small wood.
Under the boughs of the largest tree, a fire was burning and over it
swung a camp-kettle. Several men, sitting on logs in front of the fire,
were talking earnestly, and now and then looking at a map. The one who
held the map was large and straight-shouldered, and I knew the figure to
be that of the general-in-chief. As I approached, I recognized, too, the
swarthy face of Charles Lee, the foreigner who came to us with such an
air of superior wisdom, and whom we put in high place, but whom the real
soldiers already hated. Then I recognized Wayne, with his trim figure
and fine frank eyes, Greene, the silent Rhode-Islander who afterward
became so great, and others.
The council--if council it was--seemed to have developed some heat.
General Washington's blue eyes plainly showed anger, and Lee was
whipping his own high cavalry boots with a small switch. I approached
with much embarrassment and hesitation. My Philadelphia exploits in
company with Marcel were yet fresh in the memory of men, and to appear
presumptuous was, of all things, the one that I wished least. I was
sorry that Marcel had not been chosen to deliver the report. It was a
situation that would have pleased him.
But General Washington saw me as I came near, and delivered me from
further embarrassment by calling to me in very kind tones,--
"A report for me, is it not, Lieutenant Chester?" he asked.
I said yes, and stated it briefly, while the others listened with
attention. Then I stood awaiting the general's further orders.
"It is just as I told you," he said emphatically to Charles Lee, and
seeming to forget my presence. "Our army will overtake theirs in three
days at furthest, and we must strike with all our strength. We may be
able to destroy Clinton's army, and then our cause will be won."
"But Clinton has more men than we," replied Charles Lee, in protesting
tones, "and his equipment is much superior."
"He retreats, and we pursue," said the general-in-chief.
"That is true," rejoined Lee; "but I think we should be very cautious."
His words and tone did not indicate zeal. How heartily I have since
cursed the traitor, and how many others have done the same.
"And why so cautious?" burst in the impetuous Wayne. "One cannot win a
battle unless he fights!"
"You might have found caution a good thing, General Wayne," replied Lee,
in smooth, soft tones. "Remember how they cut you up at Paoli."
Wayne flushed with anger, but he was too manly to deny his only
disaster.
"It is true," he said, "but the fault was mine. My troops did not get a
chance to fight. Here they will have it."
"We shall invite our own rout," said Lee. "The Americans cannot stand
the British grenadiers."
It was the feeling of an old race towards a new one that spoke in him,
and this man, who proved himself a traitor to two countries, the old and
new, was unwise enough to say it.
"You are mistaken," said the commander-in-chief, promptly and
emphatically. "That is a delusion which the British may cherish, but not
we. This war has furnished too many instances to the contrary. The
attack shall be made, General Lee, and you shall lead it. We must end
this war as soon as possible, and benefit two nations; for I take it
that Englishmen do not love to kill Americans, any more than Americans
love to kill Englishmen."
Throughout the talk Greene said nothing, sitting there upon the log,
looking calm and decided. I like this quality of stanchness in the New
Englanders. They stick fast, whatever else you may say about them, and
that I think wins more than anything else.
I received my instructions a moment later and retired. As I walked away,
I met Marcel.
"Was it a council of war?" he asked.
"I think so."
"I hope that you gave them the proper instructions."
"I did my best," I replied in the same spirit.
"They had no right to expect more," rejoined Marcel; "but it's a great
pity I was not in your place."
Perhaps he would have given them advice. Marcel had great confidence in
his judgment.