"Yes, I heard you, Admiral Cockburn."
"Look on the bright side, Robert," Cockburn said, smiling again. He pointed toward Ross's army. "We must outnumber them by at least three to one, even leaving aside the gross disparity in training and professionalism."
That... was true enough. Even Ross found some comfort, following the admiral's pointing finger. His soldiers were taking up their formations with experienced ease and skill. The red-coated ranks and files, with their shakos high and their bayonets higher still, seemed to ooze with confidence.
The problem was the terrain, combined with the solidity of the Capitol. For all practical purposes, the houses of the American legislature were a ready-made fortress. If Ross were meeting the enemy on an open field, he knew full well he'd brush them aside. But his own long experience in the peninsular campaign and other theaters in Europe had taught him just how difficult it could be to storm a fortress held by resolute and well-armed men. Disparity in number and skill be damned.
However, there was nothing for it. The attempt had to be made.
He took a long, deep breath. Then: "Very well. I'll order the assault."
"Are they mad?" General Winder bellowed. "I gave explicit orders for all units to abandon the capital and regroup here in Georgetown!"
His eyes ranged wildly about the tavern where he and several of the nation's cabinet had set up a temporary headquarters. More in the way of a momentary resting place, actually for the secretaries of war and the treasury.