by Jack Fernley
‘Is that true, sir?’ asked Hamilton.
‘Let us sit down and discuss the matter at hand,’ said von Steuben patiently.
‘I will not sit down until—’ Sullivan was bundled by Kluggman into a chair which was then pushed tight up against the table. ‘Have your ape take his hands off me. I will not be treated in this way!’
The ape simply moved on, towards Ewing, who took a seat, as did Hamilton, Greene and Cadwalader. Kluggman did not take a seat, but continued to stand menacingly behind the generals.
‘Now we are all seated, we can begin,’ said von Steuben. ‘There has been a change of leadership. I have been asked by Congress to take on the office of commander-in-chief of the Continental Army and militias—’
There was instant uproar, shouting of ‘Shame!’ from Cadwalader, ‘What, Congress?’ from Sullivan and ‘Coup d’état!’ from Lafayette. Hamilton and Greene appeared numb from the shock of the moment.
‘Gentlemen, please. I understand you all have varying degrees of affection for General Washington, as I myself do’ – which caused further yells of outrage – ‘but I, like yourselves, am only here to serve the will of Congress and the people of the colonies. This is a great and arduous responsibility, but one that I am prepared to take up if it is the will of Congress—’
Sullivan pushed back his chair, stood up and bellowed: ‘I am not going to stand here and be lectured by a German mercenary,’ before Kluggman stepped forward and pushed him back into his chair and up against the table again.
‘Get your hands off John Sullivan!’ shouted Cadwalader, springing out of his seat and making for Kluggman. The German turned around and punched Cadwalader flush in the face, and the general crumbled instantly to the ground.
Sullivan yelled, ‘You dare lay hands on our General Cadwalader!’, but backed down into his seat as the silent Kluggman made towards him once again. Hamilton moved out of his chair, crouching down to tend to the stricken general. ‘You have knocked him out cold, you brute.’
‘Get back in your seat, Hamilton,’ said Conze.
‘This is insurrection! Plain and simple insurrection,’ cried Ewing.
‘It is no such thing,’ said von Steuben, who was maintaining remarkable coolness amid the clamour. ‘Congress has looked upon the events of the past few weeks and come to the conclusion that “a change of leadership is necessary to achieve a swift cessation of the present conflict.” I believe that is the statement they will make, Werner, is it not.’
‘It is, sir, yes.’
‘Statement, what statement?’
‘More a proclamation, actually,’ said Conze, effortlessly smooth and patronising in this moment of triumph. ‘It has been sent to all the army units and militias. Most will have received it by the end of today.’
‘The end of today!’ exclaimed Ewing. ‘So this rebellion has been planned for some time.’
‘I cannot believe this is happening, and here, in this very room where the Declaration of our Independence was made and signed,’ said Hamilton. ‘A terrible thing has been done here today.’
‘Ah, stop with the drama. Nothing of the kind has happened,’ Conze stated.
‘Indeed,’ agreed von Steuben. ‘This alters nothing aside from the direction of the war and its leadership. What you are fighting for remains the same.’
‘The army will not stand for this. Mark my words,’ said Sullivan. ‘They love Old George.’
‘They may well do so, but they are more in love with winning this war. They will understand. Besides which Lord Stirling is with the main body of the army now and informing them. With a group of Stormtroopers, of course. A loyal group of American Stormtroopers I should add.’
‘Stirling? That turncoat!’ screamed Sullivan.
‘The Northern Army, under Schuyler, the artillery group under Knox, they will remain loyal to Washington. This will lead to civil war. We will be fighting among ourselves. Howe will not believe his luck,’ Ewing joined in.
‘I do not believe that will be the case, General,’ observed von Steuben. ‘Quite the contrary, actually.’
The summer thunderstorm had given way. Outside the canvas tents, the sun had broken through and with it a bright rainbow rose above the Northern Army. Men stood outside admiring its beauty, while inside Knox and Schuyler wrestled with their own impotence.
‘I would be most honoured – as would Congress – if you will both continue to serve the Colonial Army under the new leadership of Baron von Steuben,’ said Gates. ‘The baron himself has asked me to expressly pass on his esteemed regards and hopes that you will continue to serve the interests of the colonies. However, should you wish to resign your commands, we will promise you safe passage to Albany, Pip, and for you, Knox, to your bookshop in Boston.’
‘Safe passage? Why would we require safe passage?’ asked Schuyler.
‘Well, these are desperate days, are they not?’ replied Gates. ‘We wouldn’t want you falling into the hands of the enemy, would we? For your personal safety of course – although, we cannot ignore the possibility that you might seek solace in their camp.’
‘With the British!’ exploded Knox. ‘What kind of men do you take us for? Our loyalty to the cause is not in question.’
‘Of course not,’ Arnold attempted to mollify both men. ‘But you must understand why we have to be certain of your intentions. Such are the times.’
‘Are you with us or are you not?’ barked Gates. ‘It’s a simple question. Stay or go, I care not.’
Schuyler and Knox stared at each other. Then Schuyler replied: ‘I will stay and serve under you at your discretion, General Gates. This does not alter the cause we fight for.’
‘Where does General Washington stand on this?’ asked Knox.
‘I have no idea. If the past is a stick by which to measure him, he is probably prevaricating somewhere, probably the wrong place, ha!’ snorted Gates.
‘We have had no communication with General Washington,’ Arnold replied. ‘Knowing him as we all do, I am sure he would desire you both continue to fight the British.’
‘Indeed,’ said Knox. ‘Then I will continue to serve the Continental Army until I have reason to believe that my services are no longer required.’
‘Good,’ Gates declared. ‘We start preparing immediately for an assault on Burgoyne.’
Von Steuben’s patience was wearing thin.
‘We have debated this for far too long. I was prepared to allow you some time to comprehend the change of command, but that time is up. It is simple. Will you serve under myself as commander-in-chief? Yes or no?’
‘Under you and whose flag?’ demanded Sullivan. ‘Are we now to serve under that damnable swastika that so blights this city?’
‘What offends you so about the swastika?’ asked Reitsch.
‘Finally found your voice, have you, girl? Thought you were quiet for too long.’
‘General Sullivan, your continuous hostility towards me solely on the grounds of my sex never fails to baffle me. What is it that so terrifies you about women?’
‘Terrifies me, ha! Don’t be so foolish. War is no place for a woman, outside of the kitchen and the hospital. It insults us all to have you around this table.’
‘I will have you spend some time with the League of American Girls, they will give you something of an education.’
‘The League of . . . ? Oh, please spare me, madame. No, Baron, in answer to your question. I will not serve under you, that banner and your monstrous regiments. I wish you good day and good fortune. I shall take myself back to New Hampshire and respond publicly there. Gentlemen, I urge you to join me. This is a cause I can no longer believe in.’
Sullivan stood up primly and made his way to the door. Von Steuben signalled to Kluggman. The Hessian followed the general to the door. Sullivan turned to him, ‘What, are you to escort me off the premises, ape?’
Kluggman raised a knife and calmly drew it across Sullivan’s throat.
The general raised his ha
nds, blood poured over his knuckles, his face grimaced in shock and pain. Trying desperately to stem the flow, Sullivan collapsed to the floor.
Immediately, Ewing pulled out his sword and made towards Kluggman. The German avoided Ewing’s sword thrust with ease, and caught his right arm. The strength of Kluggman was immense. He wrenched the arm with such force that it almost came out of the shoulder socket. Ewing screamed in pain, the sword clattered to the floor and Kluggman wiped the bloodied blade of his knife along the thin neck of the American. He dropped Ewing to the floor, on top of Sullivan, their bodies twitching in their last throes together, their blood mixing in a scarlet pool on the oak floor.
Greene and Hamilton looked on in shock, terror and awe. Lafayette, younger but educated in Versailles on the realities of power, merely laconically said: ‘Il vaut mieux être craint que d’être aimé.’
Hamilton, shaking, turned to him: ‘Machiavelli: “It is better to be feared than loved.”’
Conze stood up. ‘A student of Machiavelli, eh?’
The French youth shrugged his shoulders. ‘I have studied politics at ze court of King Louis. Nothing here today surprises me. This ez politics. It ez as it ez.’
‘Let me give you another little piece of Machiavelli,’ Conze said, walking around the table. ‘“If an injury has to be done to a man, it should be so severe that his vengeance need not to be feared.”’
‘“Si une blessure doit être faite à un homme, elle doit être si sévère que sa vengeance ne doit pas être crainte,” I know it well. Vengeance ez a fine art. Of course vengeance may not come from those you directly offend, but from those who seek vengeance on their behalf. Did the prince not also say that ze best way to estimate ze intelligence of a ruler ez to look at ze men he surrounds himself with?’ Lafayette splayed his arms wide and smiled contemptuously.
‘Ah, the splendid arrogance of youth. You know, Marquis de Lafayette, there is a future in which you will be much celebrated in this country for all you do to win this war and secure an independent republic. And in your own country, do you know what they will think of you?’
‘Zey will despise me?’ he said arrogantly.
‘No, they will not. They will love you, because you will aid the greatest revolution of all time, one that will overthrow King Louis and the Ancien Régime. And later, when a dictator called Bonaparte is overthrown, the people will come to you and ask you to take the crown. And you, because of the principles you forged here in America, will say no and save your country, for a second time. There will be statues of you all over the world, cities, towns, roads, schools, parks, all named Lafayette. You will go down in history as a very great man. All this will happen in the future.’
Lafayette eyed Conze in bewilderment. ‘What are you, some kind of prophet? Some soothsayer?’
‘No, I am from beyond that future, and I come to make a different kind of future. A future that will belong to me. I will be the one they will raise statues to, the one who has cities, towns, roads, schools and parks named after him. And you, you shitty little French cunt, you will be entirely forgotten.’
And he plunged his sword straight into Lafayette’s heart, twisting and turning the blade, until the last throb of consciousness left him.
Von Steuben surveyed the room, the squirming Greene and sobbing Hamilton, the still unconscious Cadwalader on the floor. ‘So, anyone else have any questions?’ he asked.
FORTY
Just a few minutes earlier, a wheezing Thomas Jefferson had entered the State House and gone straight to John Hancock’s room, where he discovered Hancock and the Adams cousins in discussion.
‘Thom, we called for you yesterday, but we were told you were otherwise engaged on account of the flu.’
‘And I am still with it, John, my head is rotten and I need, ah, yes, good man, pour me a brandy, will you. It may revitalise me and grant me the strength I need to impart the most serious of accusations against those we thought were our brothers.’
‘Well, we’ve news for you, Jefferson, something you may be understanding of – or you may regard as a transgression.’
‘A transgression. Good Lord, it must be bad if you are going to start using three-syllable words, Sam, quite out of character. And no water in the brandy, John Hancock, I’ll take it as it was intended.’
‘You unfortunately were not present for the meeting of Congress yesterday, Thom,’ John Adams said, seizing the moment. ‘That was most unfortunate, for the delegates much needed your wisdom and clarity of thought. It was a most challenging Congress.’
‘Indeed, it was,’ said Hancock passing the brandy over to Jefferson and pausing to pour himself another.
‘However, we could not wait for you to recover,’ continued John Adams.
‘You could have sent word to me at my chambers. My secretary would have responded on my behalf.’
‘No, we could not do that, as well you know, under the Resolution of Secrecy we all took. We could not possibly divulge the debate of Congress while no outcome had been determined.’
‘Tosh, that’s for the others, this is me we’re talking about, John!’
Adams responded quietly, ‘Even for you, Thom, even for you. Your absence was highly regrettable, not the least among us three.’
‘We had no option, you see,’ said Hancock, ‘no option at all. There was quite a mood among the delegates. They were unanimous.’
‘And we were wi’ ’em, frankly,’ snarled Sam Adams.
‘Put me out of suspense if you will, my body is weak and I may not last these puzzles much longer. Get to the point.’
‘We’ve discharged General Washington of his duties,’ said John Adams.
‘And not before time, I should say,’ said Sam Adams. ‘What was it you said of ’im, cousin? He was only commander-in-chief because he was “always the tallest man in the room”. We weren’t exactly spoilt for choice.’
‘What? After we have finally turned the tide? Why now? This makes little sense. Is this the work of that pocket-sized Machiavelli, Horatio Gates? Tell me that Congress did not fall for that embittered man.’
‘Nowt to do with Gates. Fella wasn’t there. It’s the German, von Steuben.’
‘You’ve put von Steuben in charge!’ Jefferson yelped.
‘Aye, the fella who keeps giving us victories. Damn stupid idea, eh!’ roared Sam Adams.
‘Sam, this may be a most terrible decision. Von Steuben is the reason I have come from my sickbed this afternoon. I have with me a letter which outlines several atrocities committed by his forces. Some of them are quite, quite terrible.’
‘What atrocities?’ asked John Adams.
‘At New Brunswick, there was a group of civilians, forty or more, chiefly women and children, raped and murdered by Werner Conze and his Stormtroopers. A Jewish trading post outside of Heidlebergtown, several families murdered in their homes by the Stormtroopers, the village burnt. Similarly, an Indian village razed to the ground at Susquehanna River, women and children slaughtered.’
‘And where do these stories come from?’ asked John Adams.
‘A very fine source, Edward Hands, Colonel of the Pennsylvanian Riflemen, a man well known to me and much admired by all of the Continental Army.’
‘The former Colonel Edward Hand,’ John Adams corrected him. ‘I thought he was dead. Wasn’t he murdered by those Indians at Susquehanna?’
‘A fabrication,’ Jefferson replied. ‘The Indians did not attack our men. Well, not those Indians. Hand was shot and left for dead by Conze and his men.’
‘Well, that runs counter to the testimony of everyone else there, including Hand’s own men in the Pennsylvanian Riflemen. Come on, Thom, do you really believe all that? Sounds to me much more likely that he manufactured these claims as an act of retribution. You are aware that his sister is betrothed to Werner Conze, are you not? I believe Colonel Hand is much opposed to the marriage. That may explain these stories.’
‘The British have made no complaint to Congress over t
he mistreatment of prisoners at New Brunswick,’ interjected Hancock. ‘They rarely miss an opportunity to complain about our conduct. I am sure they would have made merry with this if they had such an occasion as this.’
Jefferson continued undaunted. ‘Who, if anyone, has examined Baron von Steuben’s credentials?’
‘His credentials?’ asked John Adams, ‘I would have thought his actions signify the strength of his credentials.’
‘He may not be who he says he is.’
‘Good Lord, Thom Jefferson, I am aware you have the most splendid of imaginations, but really . . . who is he then? George the Third in disguise?’
‘I have it on authority the real Baron von Steuben is in his mid-forties, a much shorter man and a buggerer.’
‘A buggerer!’ Sam Adams started to laugh.
‘Well, on that account you cannot be right. This von Steuben is certainly no buggerer given his closeness with Frau Reitsch,’ Hancock joined in with the laughter.
‘A buggerer? You been drinking, Jefferson?’ asked Sam Adams.
‘No, Sam, but that was the reason the real Baron von Steuben left the court of King Frederick: he was caught in flagrante with junior officers.’
‘In that case, lad, we should be thankful, we’ve got the other Baron von Steuben then. I have no time for this; I’m off to my bed. The day is long and I’m not getting any younger. I’ll be putting this down to the fever, Thom Jefferson, there can’t be any other cause of this madness.’ John Adams stood up and wiped his hand along Jefferson’s forehead. ‘The boy’s a fever. Burning up. Best get yer back to yer bed, Thom. Wake up and this’ll all be a dream. Good evening, gentlemen. A good day’s work on our part. Fare ye well.’
FORTY-ONE
The port was full of life even though it was early evening and the working day was coming to a close. The war and the continual threat of a British blockade had made little difference to Philadelphia’s port. As on most days, hundreds of people busied themselves around the wharves, quays and jetties. Molasses from Martinique, barrels of cod from the Newfoundland banks, timber from Canadian forests all coming in; fruit and vegetables making the trip north to feed New York. A Babel of voices: Polish, German, Irish, English, Swedish; a kaleidoscope of faces, white, black, brown, red. Groups of new immigrants huddled together, clinging hard to their paltry possessions, eyed expectantly by groups of dishevelled youths looking for new flesh to exploit. Peddlers, hawkers, merchants, pushers and dealers of this, that and everything. All of the New World was here and going about the business of America, the business of commerce.