The Fort: A Novel of the Revolutionary War - xaviantvision

glimmered through the wet dark. "Warren ahoy!" the steersman called from the longboat, which banged against the frigate's hull. Hands reached downfrom the gunwale to help Major Todd aboard."Wait for me," Todd ordered the longboat's crew, then he followed Lieutenant Fenwick down the frigate's deck, past the big guns that still bore theirchalked inscriptions, and so to the commodore's cabin. Water dripped from Todd's coat and hat, and his boots squelched on the checkered canvascarpet."Major Todd," Saltonstall greeted Todd's arrival. The commodore was seated at his table with a glass of wine. Four spermaceti candles in fine silversticks lit a book he was reading."General Lovell sends his compliments, sir," Todd began with the politic lie, "and asks why the attack did not take place?"Saltonstall evidently thought the question brusque, because he jerked his head back defiantly. "I sent a message," he said, looking just past Todd'sshoulder at the paneled door."I regret to say none arrived, sir."Saltonstall marked his place in the book with a strip of silk, then turned his attention back to the cabin door. "Strange ships were sighted," he said. "Youcould hardly expect me to engage the enemy with strange ships at my rearward.""Ships, sir?" Todd asked and hoped that they were the reinforcements from Boston. He wanted to see a regiment of trained soldiers with their flagsflying and drums beating, a regiment that could assault the fort and wipe it from the face of Massachusetts."Enemy ships," Saltonstall said bleakly.There was a short silence. Rain pattered on the deck above and a boxed chronometer made an almost indiscernible ticking. "Enemy ships?" Toddrepeated feebly."Three frigates in their van," Saltonstall went on relentlessly, "and a ship of the line with two more frigates coming behind." He turned back to his book,removing the silk marker."You're sure?" Todd asked.Saltonstall spared him a pitying glance. "Captain Brown of the Diligent is capable of recognizing enemy colors, Major.""So what . . . ?" Todd began, then thought that there was no use in asking the commodore what should happen now."We retreat, of course," Saltonstall divined the unasked question. "We have no choice, Major. The enemy has anchored for the night, but in themorning? In the morning we must go upriver to find a defensible place.""Yes, sir." Todd hesitated. "You'll forgive me, sir, I must report back to General Lovell.""Yes, you must. Goodnight," Saltonstall said, turning a page.Todd was rowed back to the beach. He stumbled up the slippery path in the darkness, falling twice so that when he appeared in Lovell's makeshift tenthe was muddied as well as wet. His face told Lovell the news, news that Todd related anyway. Rain beat on the canvas and hissed in the fire outside asthe major told of the newly arrived British fleet that was anchored to the south. "It seems they've come in force, sir," Todd said, "and the commodorebelieves we must retreat.""Retreat," Lovell said bleakly."In the morning," Todd said, "if there's wind enough, the enemy will come here, sir.""A fleet?""Five frigates and a ship-of-the-line, sir.""Dear God.""He seems to have abandoned us, sir."Lovell looked as if he had been slapped, but suddenly he straightened. "Every man, every gun, every musket, every tent, every scrap of supply,everything! On the ships tonight! Call General Wadsworth and Colonel Revere. Tell them we will leave the enemy nothing. Order the guns evacuated fromCross Island. You hear me? We will leave the enemy nothing! Nothing!"There was an army to be saved.It rained. The night was windless and so the rain fell hard and straight, turning the rough track which zigzagged up the northern end of the bluff into a chuteof mud. There was no moonlight, but Colonel Revere had the idea to light fires at the track's edge, and by their light the supplies were carried down to thebeach where more fires revealed the longboats nuzzling the shingle.The guns had to be manhandled down the track. Fifty men were needed for each eighteen-pounder. Teams hauled on drag-ropes to stop the huge gunsrunning away, while other men wrenched at the huge carriage wheels to guide the weapons down to the beach where lighters waited to take the artilleryback to the Samuel. Lights glimmered wet from the ships. The rain seethed. Tents, musket cartridges, barrels of flour, boxes of candles, picks, spades,weapons, everything was carried down to the beach where sailors loaded their boats and rowed out to the transports.Peleg Wadsworth blundered through the dark wet trees to make sure everything was gone. He carried a lantern, but its light was feeble. He slippedonce and fell heavily into a deserted trench at the edge of the woods. He picked up the lantern, which, miraculously, had stayed alight, and gazed east intothe darkness which surrounded Fort George. A few tiny rain-diffused splinters of light showed from the houses below the fort, but McLean's defenses wereinvisible until a cannon fired and its sudden flame lit the whole ridge before fading. The cannon-ball plowed through trees. The British fired a few gunsevery night, not in hope of killing rebels, but rather to disturb their sleep."General? General?" It was James Fletcher's voice."I'm here, James.""General Lovell wants to know if the guns are taken off Cross Island, sir.""I told Colonel Revere to do that," Wadsworth said. Why had Lovell not asked Revere directly? He walked along the trench and saw that it was empty."Help me out, James," he said, holding up a hand.They went back through the trees. General Lovell's table was being carried away, and men were pulling down the shelter under which Wadsworth hadslept so many nights. Two militiamen were piling the shelter's brush and branches onto the campfire, which blazed bright in a billow of smoke. All thecampfires were being fed fuel so the British would not guess the rebels were leaving.The rain eased towards dawn. Somehow, despite the darkness and the weather, the rebels had managed to rescue everything from the heights, thoughthere was a sudden alarm when McCobb realized the Lincoln County militia's twelve-pounder gun was still at Dyce's Head. Men were sent to retrieve it asWadsworth went carefully down the rain-slicked track. "We've left them nothing," Major Todd greeted him on the beach. Wadsworth nodded wearily. It hadbeen a considerable achievement, he knew, but he could not help wonder at the enthusiasm men had shown to rescue the expedition's weapons andsupplies, an enthusiasm that had not been evident when they had been asked to fight. "Did you see the pay chest?" Todd asked anxiously."Wasn't it in the general's tent?""It must be with the tent, I suppose," Todd said.The rain stopped altogether and a gray, watery dawn lit the eastern sky. "Time to go," Wadsworth said. But where? He looked southwards, but theseaward reach of Penobscot Bay was shrouded by a mist that hid the enemy ships. A lighter waited to take away the missing twelve-pounder, but the onlyother boat on the beach was there to carry Todd and Wadsworth to the Sally. "Time to go," Wadsworth said again. He stepped into the boat and leftMajabigwaduce to the British.No guns fired in the dawn. The night's rain had stopped, the clouds had cleared, the sky was limpid, the air was still and no fog obscuredMajabigwaduce's ridge. Yet no guns fired from the rebel batteries and there was not even the smaller sound of rebel picquets clearing night-dampenedpowder from their muskets. Brigadier McLean stared at the heights through his glass. Every few moments he swung the glass southwards, but mist stillveiled the lower river and it was impossible to tell what ships lay there. The garrison had seen the strange ships appear in the twilight, but no one wascertain whether they were British or American. McLean looked back to the woods. "They're very quiet," he said."Buggered off, maybe," Lieutenant-Colonel Campbell, commanding officer of the 74th, suggested."If those ships are ours?""Then our enemies will have their tails between their legs," Campbell said, "and they'll be scampering for the hills.""My goodness, and maybe you're right." McLean lowered the glass. "Lieutenant Moore?""Sir?""My compliments to Captain Caffrae, and ask him to be so good as to take his company for a look at the enemy lines.""Yes, sir, and, sir?""And yes, you may accompany him, Lieutenant," McLean said.The fifty men filed through the abatis and went west along the ridge, keeping close to the northern side where the trees were dark from the previous