Tallmadge was surprised and puzzled, as well as a bit annoyed. He was the spymaster and supposed to know about things like Clark going west instead of getting drunk in Kentucky. “But who will lead the raids?”
“No raids,” said General Schuyler and Greene nodded. “Not by him and not by Major Drake. We don’t want to aggravate Tarleton into disobeying what may be Burgoyne’s orders and coming after us. We might beat him, and we might not. Worse, we might provoke Burgoyne into bringing everything he has in a winter attack and we aren’t ready for that.”
Will wondered if they’d ever be ready enough to fight the British. Each day, the British got stronger. Were the rebels getting stronger than the enemy? He’d read the reports describing British numbers and knew better than to think that. He chaffed at the thought of doing nothing.
Will’s frustration emboldened him to interrupt Schuyler. “By sending Clark westward, are you sending a message that we’ll flee if the time comes?”
Greene chuckled. “We have no more intention of fleeing than you do of returning to that prison hulk, Major.”
Will flushed. He had no idea that Nathanael Greene knew of his story. “I’m sorry, sir.”
Greene waved off the apology. “Major, the problem is that people already see the British coming in one direction and a vast continent beckoning to the west. They rightly wonder whether we could or should pack up and move another thousand miles away, or even all the way west into lands held only lightly by the Russians or the Spanish, or by the widely scattered Indian tribes. If the land is fertile, there are those who feel we could exist out there for years, even decades, before the British even cared to come after us. With time on our side, we could truly become stronger, and who knows, the British might be more conciliatory after a generation or two. Lord North and King George can’t live forever, can they? Perhaps their replacements would be more reasonable men.”
Greene began to cough harshly. The speech had drained him of what little strength remained. When he gained control of himself, he looked sadly at those in the room. “Of course, some of us could easily be dead in the morning.”
“If we are not going to raid, what would you have us do?” Tallmadge asked.
Schuyler answered for Greene. “We must have information, information and still more information. We must know their strengths and their weaknesses. More British troops are arriving almost daily and more are on the way. We want to know who they are, what they are thinking and what resources they have. General Tallmadge, I want you to send men like Drake and others to find out the answers to questions we haven’t even thought of.”
Chapter 5
Benjamin Franklin stood in the open second-floor window and held his arms wide. He was stark naked and he enjoyed the gentle caress of the early morning the breeze on his pale, flabby body. It was likely one of the last days he’d be able to do this. In a brief while, it would be too bloody cold. In fact, it was chilly this morning, but he would not be deterred.
Franklin sighed at the thought. This would be his second winter at Fort Washington and he wondered how he’d survived this long without the comforts of civilization. He’d lived in London, Paris, and Philadelphia, but never a frontier outpost like Fort Washington or the surrounding villages collectively known as Liberty. He loved good food and wine and there was little of the former and less of the latter. He liked art and theater and there was none of either. Nor did many of the buildings have proper floors. Instead, the floors were dirt.
Franklin loved beautiful women, and some might be attractive, but there were damned few in Liberty who were up to his standards. That and so many of them bathed so rarely that they even smelled worse than the French women he’d flirted with at the court of Louis XVI. At least they’d had the decency to cover their personal stench with perfume, although that sometimes became suffocating.
Still, Franklin understood how fortunate he’d been. When the American Revolution collapsed, he’d been in Paris. A fearful King Louis decided to placate a victorious and vengeful England by turning him over to them to be tried for treason. His execution, like Washington’s, would be all but guaranteed. But Franklin’s friends had smuggled him out of the country and, after a tortuous voyage, followed by hiding in numerous American houses, and several close brushes with the British, he’d found himself in Liberty.
“Mr. Franklin, will you please get dressed,” demanded a female voice.
“Mistress Benton, will you deny an old man one of his few remaining pleasures? Or are you shocked by the sight of a magnificent naked man?”
Sarah grinned at him. “First, sir, I would never deny you your pleasures, but the people in the street below are getting a marvelous view of your distinguished presence, which might just terrify those who’ve never seen such a treasure. Second, I have indeed seen a naked man or two in my life, and, while you are truly magnificent, please note that I am not struck dumb or otherwise shocked.”
Franklin laughed and reluctantly wrapped a robe around him without admitting that he was indeed cold. Sarah Benton had been his secretary for only a few days, and had quickly become his confidante. The fact that she was more than lovely further brightened his days and was making life in the frontier quite tolerable. She was a delectable exception to the general rule that women in the Fort Washington-Liberty area were plain at best. Just as important, she smelled clean.
“You’ve seen a naked man? I’m shocked,” he said wickedly. “I was under the impression that you’d never been married, at least not by clergy.”
“Since when are a marriage ceremony and a clergyman required for love and marriage? There are places in this vast land where the presence of clergy is nonexistent; therefore, young lovers do what young lovers must and consider themselves married in the eyes of man and God. And that is what my poor dead husband Tom and I did.”
“What happened to him?”
“He went off and got himself killed at Brandywine. A friend told me he was hit by a cannonball and died instantly. Part of me says that’s a polite fiction, but I am thankful for the information. So many families heard nothing after their men went off to war. They spend their time waiting. Many will never find out whether their missing husband or son is dead or alive.”
“I am saddened for you. Still, there is a place where people love freely and where there is no clergy? How absolutely wonderful; I think I shall go and live there when I grow older.”
Sarah’s responsibilities to Franklin were simple. She saw to it that he ate properly, dressed, and prepared himself to represent his beloved Pennsylvania in the Continental Congress that met in a large crude hall less than a hundred yards away.
“And what will Congress do today?” she asked.
Franklin snorted derisively. “Dither. You’ve seen them at what they call work. Instead, they dither.”
Sarah had indeed seen Congress at what they called work. At first, she’d been fascinated to see men like John Hancock and others try to make a nation. Then she’d realized they had no idea what to do. With the British gathering themselves to come at them, talk of nation building seemed like an exercise in irrelevancy.
“We must make a constitution for this poor nation,” Franklin said. “If we do that, then we are proclaiming to the world that we are a proper nation with a true entity. Right now, we are nothing more than a bunch of defeated revolutionaries who are on the verge of extinction.”
“A constitution will change all that? Wasn’t the Declaration of Independence enough?”
“No, not at all. The Declaration was magnificent, even though I didn’t write it, but it was only a beginning. But a constitution will show that we have a purpose and laws along with a set of ideals. Thus, even if we should fail, history will recognize that we were far more than a pack of brigands who deserved to be destroyed by England. No, Sarah, even in our deaths we would then say to the world that men deserve to be free.”