Alex and Eliza: A Love Story(59)

“I am, Your Excellency.”

“You have never commanded a battalion before. Why do you think you are up to the responsibility?”

“As a youthful country, many of our battlefield commanders have assumed their duties with little or no previous experience. I have learned what I know about war from the best of them all.”

Something close to a smile flickered over General Washington’s lips. “I would disagree with you, but that would mean admitting that I am not the best of our men, which would smack of false modesty.”

The story went that the general was a mirthless man, but this was not entirely true. The general’s teeth were notoriously rotten, and he was afraid his dentures would fall from his mouth if he smiled too widely, let alone laughed aloud. Certainly no one had ever seen the general laugh aloud. But Alex suspected the general had just made a joke, though whether at Alex’s or his own expense, he couldn’t be sure.

“I have been present at some of our most contested battles,” Alex said now. “I know the enemy’s tactics and again, if I may make bold, I know yours as well, not the least of which is your ability to inspire troops with your words and your bravery.”

“I could not disagree with the first part of that statement,” General Washington said, “since many of my most inspiring words were written by you. But I will say that there is a fine line between bravery and recklessness. A commander of an army cannot be so fearless that he unnecessarily jeopardizes his own life.”

“You are referring to Monmouth, Your Excellency?”

“It is not I who refer to Monmouth, but other soldiers and officers who saw you on the field. None would dispute your bravery, but many would question your ardor.”

Alex was about to defend himself when General Washington spoke over him. “Many would, but I do not. Monmouth was a messy affair, and at the end of the day, only one thing saved us from defeat, and that was the fighting spirit of our men. I was very proud of you that day.”

“Thank you, sir,” Alex said humbly.

“But it is difficult for me to conceive of my own role—of this office—without you by my side. Quite simply, you are too good at your job. You make me a better commander, and that is good for our army and our country.”

“You flatter me, Your Excellency.”

“I think you know that I have never flattered anyone in my life, nor, as I have already indicated, am I much impressed by false modesty.”

“Then allow me to speak immodestly, Your Excellency. For as valuable as my services are to you as a clerk, a hundred times more valuable will they be to you on the battlefield, where I can fire off not letters but bullets, and finish off our enemy the only way he will ever truly be vanquished, which is not with ink but with blood. Other men can craft pretty sentences that persuade men to surrender their money or their supplies, but only a few men can persuade men to give up their lives. I believe I am one of those men, and for the sake of my country I would like the chance to prove it.”

“Your eloquence is persuasive, Colonel Hamilton, yet it also works against you, for true eloquence is far more rare than bravery. I am not convinced that I could replace you and, more to the point, I do not want to.”

Alex felt his heart sink, but he pressed on. “Your Excellency,” he said urgently, “would you call yourself a soldier if you had never set foot on the field of battle, but only directed men from a protected promontory? Would you feel that you had served a country as great as this one if you had only written letters like a tradesman, ordering troops about like so many bales of cotton or hay? I know you, sir. I have seen you wade into the thick of the action like an enlisted man, and I know that this experience has made you a better general, because you know what is at stake when you give an order.

“Your Excellency,” he continued, “this nation has the potential to be something that no other country has been, a beacon of freedom and opportunity. But it is as yet very far from realizing those goals, and it never will realize those goals if its men cower behind desks and windows. The war is being fought out there,” Alex wound up, “and out there is where I need to be.”

General Washington absorbed all of this without giving away a clue as to how it was affecting him. He must be a formidable opponent at the card tables, Alex thought.

At length the general turned back to his letters. “I make no promises,” he said. “But I will consider it.”

“Your Excellency,” Alex said, bowing low, then retreating from the room. He knew he would get no more that day.





26





Timing Is Everything


Down the Street from the Cochran Residence

Morristown, New Jersey

March 1780

“That white house in the ash trees is the Ford mansion, where General Washington maintains his office,” Eliza pointed, “and that brown house is Jacob Arnold’s tavern where many of the officers take their mess, though for the life of me, I cannot fathom why anyone would refer to food by such an unappetizing name.”

“If you saw what passed for food in most army camps, Miss Schuyler, you would understand immediately.”

Henry Livingston had changed dramatically in the decade since Eliza had seen him last. He had grown into a tall, well-formed young man, with lamb chop whiskers and a thick head of chestnut hair he kept heavily powdered, in the manner of General Washington himself. His eyes were dark and mercurial, rarely resting on one object for long, be it a house or a painting or even the face of a young woman. On meeting Eliza at Aunt Gertrude’s house, he had said only, “Well, I guess I won’t be pulling your pigtails anymore,” and then walked right past her to the pair of portraits on the far wall.