Valley Forge: George Washington and the Crucible of Victory Read Free

of disciplined righteous patriotism made success possible.
    There was no doubt in Washington’s mind what the struggle was all about. It was about freedom under the rule of law.
    Washington’s favorite play was Joseph Addison’s Cato . It is the story of a man who loves freedom so much that he sacrifices his son and himself rather than bend to Caesar’s will. Washington never tired of the play. It was also clear that he saw himself in that tradition. He would rather have died than given in to British tyranny.
    It is our hope that this story of freedom emerging from difficult times will inspire our generation to do our duty to protect the rule of law and reassert the classic provisions of American liberty.
    Nothing we face is as difficult as Valley Forge. We have no excuse for not serving our country and dedicating ourselves to the cause of freedom. That is the real message of this book.



Prologue
    Near Paoli, PA
10:00 PM, September 20, 1777
Battle of Paoli
    “Fix bayonets!”
    The order was whispered hoarsely. Lieutenant Allen van Dorn, a Loyalist from Trenton, of the rebellious colony of New Jersey, was in a column of more than a thousand British light infantry, arrayed in a formation of company front by column. He could hear the order echoing softly behind him, followed by the cold, chilling sound of long bayonets pulled from scabbards, then locked on to the muzzles of Brown Bess muskets.
    He caught a glimpse of General Charles Grey as the blanket of clouds, concealing the moon, parted for a moment. Tall, slender, and supremely fit, Grey’s presence was sensed—even in the cover of darkness. His whispered words carried self-confidence and command. The battle plan was his. This fight would be his, and Allen sensed that this man reveled in the moment.
    Allen, serving as one of the scouts for the attack, observed Grey from a respectful distance. With soldierly ardor, the general addressed the knot of officers surrounding him.
    “I want every man checked yet again,” Grey hissed sharply. “Flints are to be removed from all weapons except officers’ sidearms. If any enlisted man disobeys and fires his weapon, I will personally flog him. If any of you discharge your pistols before the attack is well joined, by God I will not only flog you, I will see you broken to the ranks and sent back to En gland in disgrace.
    “Do we understand each other?”
    There was a muffled chorus of assents.
    “Rejoin your commands and await the order to advance. Once this column begins to move, guide on the unit in front of you. Keep the formation tight. Do not lose contact with the line in front of you. Once the attack is launched, fan your men out as we discussed earlier and then in with the bayonet and finish the bastards. No one is to escape. No one!
    “Rejoin your men.”
    The officers scattered and dispersed into the blackness. The clattering of a sword sheath broke the unnerving stillness.
    “Who was that?” Grey snarled.
    There was a momentary pause.
    “Captain Neilson, sir I, he has fallen,”
    “You are relieved of command, sir. Stay to the rear. I will deal with you tomorrow.”
    There was no reply.
    “Officers, drop your sword sheaths,” Grey added.
    The order had been given earlier, but some were reluctant to comply, their scabbards inlaid with gold were worth a pretty penny. Neilson would pay far more in terms of shame.
    Grey turned to face the men gathered around Allen.
    “You men know your orders.”
    Each man quickly whispered his orders, to deploy to the left of the flank, to the right, to move ahead and secure the several farmsteads in their path of advance. Finally, it was Allen’s turn.
    “I am to stay with the prisoner, sir, to insure he does not try to escape.”
    “And if he gives false directions?”
    Allen hesitated.
    “I will kill him myself,” came a whispered reply. It was muttered by a captain who had beloved and esteemed recently joined their ranks. John André, was as a soldier, a poet, a