America Über Alles

by Jack Fernley

‘Well, you best learn quick, Thom. It’s going to be a very important language in the future.’

  ‘Is it?’

  Hancock smiled at him. ‘Oh, I expect so. No harm in learning a few words of it, what, eh? How are you today? You appear much better – you were in something of a terrible state yesterday.’

  ‘Your brandy appears to have had the desired effect, John, although I’m not sure our conversation did much to lift my spirits.’

  ‘Come, come, Thom, we are on the verge of great things. You were more than aware of George’s failings. This is much the best outcome for us all, no matter how painful we might find it initially. Much better.’

  ‘Where is George? I went looking for him at the City Tavern and was told he’s not staying there. I would like to see him.’

  ‘Indeed, well, ah, I don’t know where he is at this moment.’

  ‘Has he taken off already to Virginia, to Mount Vernon?’

  ‘Do you know, I, I don’t know if he has.’ Hancock shifted uneasily. ‘I haven’t actually seen him. Ah, John Adams might know. Look, the session is to start at ten, and I have something to prepare before that, so if I may take my leave of you. Let us enjoy a further brandy at the end of the day’s events, dear friend. Farewell for now.’

  Hancock scuttled off to his presidential office. Jefferson stood rooted to the spot and looked around him, at the comings and goings of delegates and officers of Congress. It could wait. He would catch up with George later. He too had something to prepare for the next sitting of Congress.

  FORTY-FOUR

  Hancock walked in, taking his seat with a theatrical swoop that had some of the delegates groaning in despair. Of the fifty-six appointed delegates to the Second Continental Congress, more than forty were present in the assembly room for what was a closed meeting, no members of the press nor public were in attendance, Charles Thomson was taking the minutes.

  Quiet descended and Hancock, clearing his throat forcefully as if a large marble was inside, shouted: ‘I call this meeting of the Second Continental Congress to order. There is this morning one agenda issue alone and that is the furtherance of the discussion of yesterday regarding the leadership of the war council of this Congress and the position of commander-in-chief. That this Congress did yesterday vote by thirty-six to three that the present commander-in-chief, George Washington of Virginia, be relieved of his post and the office be presented as vacant to the Baron Friedrich von Steuben and that he be requested to fulfil it and bring to a glorious conclusion the present conflict. Congress established a delegation of Messrs Samuel Adams, John Adams and John Hancock to converse with General Washington and then to proceed directly to negotiate with the baron, to report back on this day to Congress the necessary consequences of the aforementioned discussions. I will now call upon Delegate John Adams of Boston to apprise Congress of those deliberations.’

  Adams slowly raised himself to his feet. ‘Congress, we followed your directions and met first with General Washington. It was the most sympathetic of conversations. On your behalf, we effusively commended the general for his exertions on behalf of Congress and the people of the Thirteen Colonies over these long and difficult two years. He was greatly honoured by the high esteem in which Congress held him. We then expressed the desire of this house for an adjustment in the direction of the campaign.’

  He was interrupted by a few grumblings of ‘Hear, hear.’

  ‘While understandably disconcerted by such an adjustment, General Washington, fitting in a man so virtuous, declared that he was but a servant of Congress and the people of the Thirteen Colonies and would support any adjustment deemed necessary by that body and the people it in turn served. He would, as a consequence, be content to step aside and allow such others as Congress deemed qualified to take on the role of commander-in-chief.’

  The meeting broke into a spontaneous round of applause and some cheers, ‘Good Old George!’ and ‘Most honourable of men’. Jefferson looked around him. He thought the overriding emotion of his fellow delegates was one of relief, relief that others had killed Caesar on their behalf.

  ‘The delegation then proceeded to interview Baron von Steuben. We were most impressed with his plans for a swift cessation of the war. It would be impolitic for me to expand on those plans to Congress, for by their nature, they must remain confidential, as I am sure the delegates will understand, but you will be at rest when I say that the baron has already set in motion the next stage of the campaign. He is not a fellow who could be described as a prevaricator.’

  This led to a large outbreak of laughter and further cheering.

  ‘As you would have ascertained from these thoughts, the baron was both humbled by Congress’s proposition and consented immediately. His only stipulation was that he be given the same powers as held by the previous commander-in-chief. I hope Congress will be content that I readily agreed with his request.’

  There were cheers once again and almost frenzied chants of ‘Yes! Yes!’

  ‘Very well. I am confident that our small delegation fulfilled the obligations placed upon it by this Congress.’

  Adams sat down, to further applause, with several members reaching over to slap him good-naturedly around the shoulders. Jefferson eyed it all with cynicism. The folly, the avarice, the weakness of men never failed to amuse him. He waited for the tumult to die down, ready to make his own speech, looking to catch President Hancock’s eye. However, that moment never came. As soon as the commotion died down, Hancock cleared the marble from his throat in his tiresomely theatrical manner and announced: ‘Delegates, recognising as I did your fervour for this change in personnel, I took the liberty of requesting that Baron von Steuben come to Congress this morning and address it. If it suits your mood, I will ask the ushers to alert the baron this moment.’

  Again, wild cheers and shouts of ‘Yes!’

  Hancock tipped a nod to Charles Thomson who left his desk, opened the door of the assembly room little more than a crack and said softly to the waiting usher, ‘The baron, now.’

  Within a few moments, both doors were thrown open with a flourish and von Steuben strode in, closely followed by Reitsch, Conze and a retinue of a dozen smartly dressed Stormtroopers. He marched straight into the centre of the room, clicked his heels together and gave the raised arm salute Jefferson had seen the guards making an hour or so earlier, in the direction of Hancock. Far from being confused, some of Jefferson’s fellow delegates replied with the same salute and no embarrassment that he could see. There were shouts of ‘Bravo!’ and ‘Hurrah’, and a general frenzy of handclapping as the delegates rose to their feet to acclaim their new commander-in-chief.

  All aside from two men: Jefferson and Sam Adams. The old Bostonian, the man whose Massachusetts Circular Letter back in 1768 had done more than anything to start the struggle, sat in his place, his hands affixed to his walking stick, watching aghast at the idiocy of his fellow Colonists. What he and his cousin had done was necessary. This idolatry was not. He caught Jefferson’s eye and shook his head in disgust.

  The Stormtroopers had taken up position behind Hancock and by the door of the assembly room, while Reitsch and Conze took two empty chairs behind the delegates. Deciding he had enjoyed the acclaim for long enough, von Steuben raised his hands up and down, imploring for quiet. Finally, the noise subsided and he made his speech.

  ‘Delegates of Congress. I stand before you today, on the most humble day of my life. You have placed upon my troops and myself the most magnificent of responsibilities. We are obliged to serve you, to meet the expectations, the trust you have placed in us. The road ahead will be hazardous, but we, the Continental Army and the militias, will deliver you the victory that you and the people of these great colonies so long for!’

  Again, an outpouring of wild applause, with the delegates rising to their feet as one, with the exception of Jefferson and Adams, who sat, politely applauding. Again, von Steuben called for quiet.

  ‘However, the strength of the challenge ah
ead is ably demonstrated by the most monstrous plot we uncovered only yesterday, a plot that had it not been discovered by General James Ewing, then, well, I shudder to think of the consequences, but I believe they would have seen every man in this room bound in chains and thrown in a prison hulk to be transported across the Atlantic to face trial before that perfidious monarch George!’

  The cheers were now replaced by gasps.

  ‘Yesterday evening, in the first war council convened under this leadership, General Ewing revealed that there was a plot to secure a victory for Britain over these colonies. The first part of that plot was Howe’s attempt to win this very city, where parties to that scheme attempted to have the Continental Army move north and leave Philadelphia unprotected. Those behind it were revealed by General Ewing to their faces, such was the strength of character of this great man.’

  ‘Who were these traitors?’ shouted a voice.

  ‘General Ewing named the Frenchman Marquis de Lafayette as the leader. He had come to the Americas with the express intention of seeking revenge on the French court, from where he was banished. He was in the pay of the British and managed either to recruit or persuade a number of General Washington’s closest advisers that the war was not winnable. There was, of course, personal advancement if they changed sides. Their most able recruit was,’ he paused, ‘General John Sullivan.’

  There was uproar. Von Steuben had chosen well. Many in the chamber still held Sullivan personally responsible for the failed invasion of Canada in 1776 and had not forgotten the events following his capture by the British at Long Island the same year, which led to Sullivan being forced to bring a proposal for a conference to Congress.

  ‘Decoy Duck!’ shouted someone, a cry picked up by others until it ran around the room. Von Steuben looked on confused.

  ‘Baron, the cry is “Decoy Duck” for that is the nickname our esteemed colleague John Adams gave Sullivan when he came before Congress last summer charged by the British with trying to persuade us to agree to a peace conference,’ explained Hancock. ‘It will not surprise many members that this Sullivan would be party to such a heinous plot.’

  ‘Ah, Congress must excuse my ignorance of the past. The tragedy was that General Sullivan, uncovered in this very room, launched himself at General Ewing, stabbing him before slicing open his throat. We then witnessed the bravery of General Cadwalader, who attempted to subdue Sullivan, but was struck with such ferocity that he is still to regain consciousness. We were most fortunate that one of our men was present and was able to overcome Sullivan, who was killed in the event.’

  The room was now quiet.

  ‘During the course of this confrontation, which was witnessed by Obergruppenführer Werner Conze and Frau Hanna Reitsch, Ewing uncovered his fellow conspirators, who we were able to overwhelm. It saddens me to tell Congress that the other members of this cabal were Alexander Hamilton and Nathanael Greene.’

  There were shouts of ‘Shame’ and shudders of disgust around the room.

  ‘We were able to take them into custody yesterday and interrogate them to ascertain who else was part of this plot. At first they claimed there were but four members of the conspiracy – Lafayette, Sullivan, Hamilton and Greene – but then they gave us one further name.’

  Von Steuben paused, looked down towards the floor. The room was quiet again. He raised his head, looked about him, tears in his eyes.

  ‘The fifth member of the conspiracy . . . it breaks my heart to reveal this to you. I wish, as God is my judge, that I could give you any name but his. The fifth conspirator is General George Washington.’

  Immediate uproar, screams, the air wild with curses and utter disbelief, tears from some, howls of outrage from others. Until finally Jefferson stood up and calmly said, ‘Mister President, may I have the floor?’

  Hancock, who had been dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief, nodded his assent and Jefferson started, slowly.

  ‘Mister President, Congress, Baron. These are indeed grave accusations. Yet, we live in such strange times. I have recently heard wild accusations levelled at others in this room, such terrible accusations that nevertheless should be heard. At New Brunswick, fifty unarmed, surrendered British soldiers were massacred and forty innocent women, children and civilians raped and slaughtered. Outside of Heidlebergtown, at a Jewish trading post, several families murdered, their houses burned to the ground. And an Indian village, along the Susquehanna River, seventy or more women and children killed, murdered, as they stood unarmed. Such incidents are what we expect of marauding British troops, men who have no respect for the people who escaped the tyranny of their country and carved out a new world from this wilderness. Or should we expect it from paid mercenaries with no loyalty to any country, only to their purse?’

  He peered at von Steuben.

  ‘Is this what we should expect from Hessian mercenaries who come here claiming to be our friends, these acclaimed Stormtroopers, who arrived with no prior notice in such mysterious circumstances, betraying one paymaster for another? For these atrocities were the work of these men you now look to bring to your bosom, who you now look upon to win you your freedom – but at what cost? You will excuse me my scepticism, but when I hear of outlandish plots involving some of the most honourable men I have ever met, I weigh up what I know and I ask myself who do I trust more: my friends or an imposter?’

  There was uproar now, screams and shouts from both sides of the room, a maelstrom of accusation, taunting, jeering.

  ‘An imposter! Yes, I say an imposter! This is no more the real Baron Friedrich von Steuben than I am King George. The real baron is a short man in his forties, a man thrown out of King Frederick’s circle for improper relations with young men! The man before you is an imposter!’

  At once the Stormtroopers at the door began to move, but von Steuben in the midst of the pandemonium had the presence of mind to have them stop by raising his arm. Hancock attempted to regain control by hammering his gravel on his desk. And then, finally, von Steuben shouted, ‘Be quiet, all of you!’

  It had the desired effect; the room was silent once more. Jefferson stood, ramrod straight, facing down the accused.

  ‘Thomas Jefferson,’ von Steuben said. ‘Let me say this to you. I know not of this other baron you speak of. I am who I am. My actions since my arrival here give proof of my virtues. I can offer no greater assurance for myself than that, nor should I wish to. As for these atrocities you talk of, I know nothing of atrocities. But I do know that the men under my command have shown themselves to be always ready to sacrifice their lives for the freedom of this country. At Trenton, at the Elk River and, yes, at the Susquehanna River, some did indeed give their lives for this great cause. For you to come here and besmirch their sacrifice is shameful. Shame on you, sir.’

  ‘The shame is on you, Baron – or whatever your name is. What have you done with the Negroes who joined the Continental Army? They were removed from the camp at Lowantica, and the Negro units closed down, where are they?’

  ‘I find sympathy for Negroes touching from a slave owner. Are you interested because you wish them for your plantations? I hear you have an uncommonly close interest in the welfare of your slaves, especially the girls.’

  There was laughter throughout the room. ‘You cur!’ shouted Jefferson. ‘Is there no level to which you will not stoop? Where are your witnesses to this supposed plot?’

  ‘I was wondering when you would get round to that,’ replied von Steuben with a slight smirk. ‘It is time Congress met some old friends.’

  FORTY-FIVE

  It was a pitiful sight.

  Alexander Hamilton, about twenty-two years old, was broken. They had done the best they could to cover up the bruises and the broken bones, with a clean outfit and what appeared to be rouge on his cheeks, but his mouth was swollen, and there were gaps where teeth had been pulled. However, it was not so much the physical condition as the mental state of the man. Behind his eyes, there was nothing, nothing but surrender. Whate
ver had happened over the previous twelve hours had shattered him utterly.

  He was led into the assembly room in a daze, to gasps from the delegates. Behind him trembled Nathanael Greene, more than ten years older, his face ashen, his usual red lips as pale as his face, walking unsteadily, propped up by the guards who carried him in by his shoulders, no surprise, given that his ankles were cracked.

  ‘Alexander Hamilton and Nathanael Greene, previously highly esteemed members of the Continental Army, you stand before Congress as traitors to your country. How do you plead?’ barked von Steuben.

  Neither man replied.

  ‘How do you plead to the charges of conspiracy?’ von Steuben barked again.

  A tear fell from Greene’s eye as he whispered, ‘Guilty.’

  ‘Louder, Congress needs to hear you admit your guilt.’

  His head still bowed, Greene said a little louder, ‘Guilty. We are guilty as charged.’

  ‘I have in my hand two confessions, signed by these men independently of each other, in which they fully confess to their part in the cabal and of those others who joined with them, including George Washington.’ Von Steuben brandished two handwritten letters and walked to the two men. ‘Nathanael Greene, is this your mark?’

  Greene slowly nodded his head. Von Steuben moved to Hamilton. ‘And is this yours, Alexander Hamilton?’

  The young man kept his head lowered, so no one could see his tears and shame. He simply nodded his assent.

  ‘Congress, we have it there. You have borne witness to these traitors and their damnable plot. We shall publish these letters tomorrow, so all the colonies will know, and the British will understand we have foiled their scheme.’

  ‘Wait!’ shouted Jefferson, pushing his way past the front rows to the floor of the chamber. ‘Look at these two men. Is it not obvious to all that they have been tortured? That these confessions are the product of torture? What have you done to these boys?’

  ‘Whatever misfortune has occurred, they have brought on themselves. Thomas Jefferson, what world do you live in? Do you think criminals give up their secrets easily, willingly let the world know of their plots? Evil always tries to hide from truth. Yes, we had to use some force on these men, but no one forced them to sign the documents or give their assent today. You witnessed it yourself. If they were innocent, they could have said so before this room. But they did not, did they? They admitted to their guilt.’