Colonel Benjamin Tallmadge noticed it from across the room. For eight years, he had watched Washington and learned to read the small signals: the set of the jaw, the economy of movement, the way the general’s silence could crowd out other men’s noise. He had never seen the hand shake — not at Long Island, where the army nearly dissolved into the East River; not at Valley Forge, where it nearly froze to death; not at Yorktown, where it won.
The American Revolution Was Fought And Won In Neighborhood Bars
