design and appearance, even if he was rather amused by the fact. The pugnacious little American republic was every bit as prone to erect grandiose public structures as any king or emperor of Europe.
He pointed at the edifice in question. "No doubt the Capitol is now manned by men from disparate units. But where do you conclude from this that their leadership and morale are wanting? I conclude the exact opposite. Somebody had to have rallied those men, and the men themselves will be self-selected by the very process."
"It's Cousin Jonathan, for the love of God!" Cockburn snapped angrily. "A windbag gave a speech and empty heads were swayed by it. What else do you expect from a sorry lot of republicans?"
It was all Ross could do not to roll his eyes. Sorry lot of republicans, was it? Like the same republicans who, not so many years ago in France, had sent packing every monarchical army that attacked them? The same sorry lot of republicans who, less than three months earlier, had broken superior British forces at the Chippewa?
There were times he found Cockburn well-nigh insufferable.
Alas, while Ross had become Cockburn's superior as soon as British forces set foot on land, he was still subordinate to Admiral Cochrane. And, alas again, Cochrane had supported Cock-burn every step of the way.
"The vice admiral wants those buildings taken, General Ross. Taken, then burnt to the ground."
Burnt to the ground—as if brick and stone were flammable substances! To be sure, Ross could wreck the Capitol, assuming he could take it in the first place. But without spending time and effort they couldn't afford to blow them up—not to mention a huge supply of powder, which they didn't possess either—there was no way that he could do more than have the buildings gutted by fire. If Cousin Jonathan was skilled enough to have erected that magnificent structure in the