Love & War (Alex & Eliza #2)(17)
“Yes, Your Excellency,” he said, employing the honorific he always used when he addressed Washington.
“After extensive discussions with General Lafayette and Count de Rochambeau, I have come to the conclusion that if we can pin Cornwallis’s forces in the city, we can cut him off from escape. We will then be able to starve them into submission or bombard them to oblivion. Either way, Cornwallis will have to surrender. The British forces will be decimated, and the war—in effect—over,” said Washington proudly. The general relaxed his shoulders a bit, as if the war had already been won.
Alex held his neck unnaturally stiff to keep himself from nodding again. Having written most of the general’s correspondence on these matters himself, he was intimately acquainted with the deliberations. “Indeed, Your Excellency. I couldn’t agree more.”
Washington nodded, and a rare smile crossed his face. “Lafayette has seven thousand French and American troops in position outside the town to keep Cornwallis’s men from escaping farther inland.”
Alex grunted in agreement.
The general continued. “Additionally, Admiral de Grasse has agreed to provide three thousand troops from the West Indies. This would give us a numerical advantage but not an overwhelming one, especially since de Grasse’s men will be at great risk when they disembark from his ships. It is therefore imperative that our own forces join the fray, though it would be a difficult march of some four hundred and fifty miles. We have two thousand men of our own, and Rochambeau has agreed to put his seven thousand troops under my command. Obviously, we cannot make nine thousand men invisible, but the count and I have devised a maneuver that we think will disguise our true intentions from the British.”
Washington kept a placid expression, so it took Alex a moment to realize the general was making a joke. He allowed himself a smile. “May I inquire as to the nature of the maneuver, Your Excellency?”
“We will split the men into multiple units and march them in parallel tracks some tens of miles apart. If British spies do catch wind of us, they are more likely to conclude that the troops are being deployed to multiple locations rather than heading toward a single target.” Washington tapped the battlefield maps that were laid out on the desk.
Alex immediately saw the beauty of the plan, but he also had reservations. “Isn’t it risky splitting our forces up, sir? Won’t they be more vulnerable to attack?”
Washington frowned, and crease lines deepened across his weathered cheek. “They would be, if the British had a large army within striking position. But they have no forces that can reach us before we will have accomplished our mission.”
Alex had to admit that the plan was a stroke of genius. Though he had never said so to anyone other than Laurens, he had often had concerns about Washington’s military savvy. There was no doubt about the man’s leadership capabilities—not to mention his ability to inspire both his troops and the general populace. George Washington was a fine specimen of a man, tall, strapping, with a commander’s profile and confidence. He would make an excellent head of state one day—governor of Virginia, perhaps, or maybe, if the thirteen colonies could work out their differences and consent to a centralized government, a prime minister, or if things should work out another way (God forbid!), a king.
However, while unquestionably brave, Washington’s military strategies had always struck Alex as unnecessarily blunt. This maneuver, however, was inspirational. Alex could feel himself salivating to be a part of it. The British were no cowards, but they would be fools to put up a protracted fight—which would only result in hundreds, perhaps thousands, of casualties—and they would still lose.
Was the general telling Alex all this in order to make him that much more grateful for his promotion, or to make a denial of his field command that much more painful? Alex didn’t think Washington was quite so base, but he was well aware that the man despised violations of protocol and could hold a grudge.
“When do you anticipate the movement will begin?” he said now, in a cautious voice.
“The troops should be ready by August. We need to wait for Mr. Church’s shipment to arrive before we depart.” He gave Alex a curt nod.
It was typical of General Washington not to confirm with Alex that the arms deal had been successfully negotiated. It was possible that he had received word by some other channel—perhaps General Schuyler had dispatched a courier—but more likely he had simply assumed that Alex had completed his assigned task. It was not that Washington had unquestioned faith in Alex or General Schuyler, although he certainly believed in their abilities. It was more a case of belief in himself. He had ordered something be done, and would assume that it had been accomplished unless otherwise informed.
“Well then,” General Washington said. “I believe you are fully versed in the plans. I will dismiss you so can prepare for departure.”
Alex was so used to standing when Washington said he was dismissed that he immediately rose from his chair and turned for the door. Still, he couldn’t believe it. The general had turned down his request for a command of his own! And still expected Alex to accompany as an aide-de-camp! It was not to be borne! He had to say something, but what? Before he could protest, however, the general had more to say.
“Colonel Hamilton?” General Washington called after him. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”