The Fort: A Novel of the Revolutionary War - xaviantvision

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From a Petition signed by thirty-two officers belonging to the American warships in Penobscot Bay and sent to Commodore Saltonstall, July 27th, 1779:To the Honorable the Commodore and Commander in Chief of the Fleet . . . we your petitioners strongly Impress'd with the importance of theExpedition, and earnestly desire to render our Country all the Service in our power Wou'd represent to your Honor, that the most spedy Exertionsshou'd be used to Accomplish the design we came upon. We think Delays in the present Case are extremely dangerous: as our Enemies aredaily Fortifying and Strengthening themselves. . . . We don't mean to Advise, or Censure Your past Conduct, But intend only to express our desireof improving the present Opportunity to go Immediately into the Harbor, and Attack the Enemys Ships.From the Journal of Sergeant William Lawrence, Royal Artillery, 13th July 1779:The night is thought by our enemy to be the most Favorable time for storming Encampments . . . and None are so ready of taking that Advantagethan his Majesty's subjects now in Rebellion, who in the Open field tremble for a British soldier.From General Lovell's orderly book, July 24th, 1779, Head-Quarters on board the Transport Sally:The Officers will be careful that every man is compleatly Equipt in Arms and Ammunition and that they have drink in their Canteens and a Morcelfor their Pockets . . . the General flatters himself that should there be an Opportunity he will have the utmost exertions of every Officer and Soldiernot only to maintain, but to add new Lustre to the Fame of the Massachusetts Militia.
Chapter SixThe daylight was fading. The western sky glowed red and its light was reflected in lurid, shifting ripples across the bay. The rebel ships had been firing atthe three British sloops, but, just as on the previous day, none had tried to pierce Mowat's line and so enter the harbor. They fired from a distance, aimingat the lingering cloud of red-touched, mast-pierced powder-smoke that shrouded the king's ships.A cheer sounded from the rebel ships when they saw the flag taken down on Cross Island. Every man knew what that meant. The British had lost thebattery to the south of the harbor entrance and the Americans could now make their own battery there, a battery that would be close to Mowat's line andcould hammer his three ships mercilessly. The southern bulwark of the harbor, Cross Island, was captured and, as the sun leaked scarlet fire across thewest and as the rebel ships still pounded their shots towards the distant sloops, Major Daniel Littlefield's militia was being rowed towards the northernbulwark.That bulwark was Dyce's Head, the high rocky bluff on which the redcoats waited and from where the battery of six-pounders fired down at thebombarding ships. The evening was so calm that the smoke of the guns hung in the trees, indeed there was scarce enough breeze to move the Americanships that belched flame, bar shot, chain shot, and round shot towards Mowat's three sloops, but a vagary of that small wind, a sudden stirring of thesummer air, lasted just long enough to blow the smoke away from HMS Albany, which lay at the center of Mowat's line, and the Scottish captain, standingon his afterdeck, saw the longboats pulling away from the American transports and heading towards the bluff. "Mister Frobisher!" Mowat called.The Albany's first lieutenant, who was supervising the starboard guns, turned towards his captain. "Sir?"A shot whistled overhead. Bar or chain shot, Mowat reckoned from the sound. The rebels seemed to have been aiming at his rigging mostly, but theirgunnery was poor and none of the sloops had suffered significant damage. A few shrouds and halliards had been parted, and the hulls were scarred, butthe sloops had lost neither men nor weapons. "There are launches approaching the shore," Mowat called to Frobisher, "d'you see them?""Aye aye, sir, I see them!"Frobisher tapped a gun captain on the shoulder. The gunner was a middle-aged man with long gray hair twisted into a pigtail. He had a scarf wrappedabout his ears. He saw where Frobisher was pointing and nodded to show he understood what was wanted. His cannon, a nine-pounder, was alreadyloaded with round shot. "Run her out!" he ordered, and his crew seized the train-tackle and hauled the cannon so that the muzzle protruded from thegunwale. He shouted at his gun-deafened men to turn the heavy carriage, which they did with long spikes that gouged Mowat's carefully holy-stoned deck."Don't suppose we'll hit the buggers," the gun captain said to Frobisher, "but we might make 'em wet." He could no longer see the rebel rowboatsbecause the vagary of wind had died and thick pungent smoke was again enveloping the Albany, but he reckoned his cannon was pointed in the rightgeneral direction. The gun captain thrust a thin spike through the touchhole to pierce the canvas powder bag in the breech, then slid a portfire, a quill filledwith finely mealed powder, into the hole he had made. "Stand back, you bastards!" he bellowed and touched fire to the quill.The gun shattered the evening air with its noise. Smoke, thick as a London fog, billowed and stank. A flame stabbed the smoke, lighting it and fadinginstantly. The gun leaped back, its truck wheels screaming until the breech ropes were snatched bar-tight to check the recoil. "Swab out!" the gun captainshouted, plunging his leather-protected thumb onto the touchhole."Give those launches one more shot," Frobisher shouted over the noise of the guns, "then aim at their ships again.""Aye aye, sir!"The cannons had been firing at the American ships which maneuvered three quarters of a mile to the west. The launches were about the same distanceaway, so the gun captain had not needed to change his barrel's very slight elevation. He had used a fourth-weight charge, two and a quarter pounds ofpowder, and the round shot left the muzzle traveling at nine hundred and eighty feet every second. The ball lost some speed as it covered the fourthousand three hundred feet before striking the water, but it had taken the shot less than five seconds to cover that distance. It slapped onto a wave,ricocheted shallowly upwards and then, trailing a shower of spray, it struck Major Littlefield's longboat plumb amidships.To General Wadsworth, watching from the Bethaiah, it seemed as if the leading longboat simply disintegrated. Strakes of wood flew in the air, a manturned end over end, there was a flurry of white water and then nothing but floating oars, shattered scraps of timber, and men struggling to stay afloat. Theother longboats went to the rescue, pulling swimmers from the water as a second round shot splashed harmlessly nearby.The longboats had stopped pulling for the bluff now. Wadsworth had expected them to land and then return to collect more men, indeed he had plannedto go ashore with that second group, but instead the rowboats turned and headed back towards the transports. "I hope Littlefield's not wounded,"Wadsworth said."Take more than a round shot to put the major down, sir," James Fletcher commented cheerfully. Fletcher was now attached to Wadsworth's staff as anunofficial aide and local guide."I must assume Littlefield decided not to land," Wadsworth said."Hard to fight when you're wet as a drowned rat, sir.""True," Wadsworth said with a smile, then consoled himself that the threat to the bluff appeared to have achieved its purpose, which was to prevent theBritish sending reinforcements or a counterattacking force to Cross Island.The light faded fast. The eastern sky was already dark, though no stars yet showed, and the gunfire died with the day. The American warships sailedslowly back to their anchorage while Mowat's men, unscarred by the evening's duel, secured their guns. Wadsworth leaned on the Bethaiah's gunwaleand looked down at the shadowy boats as they approached the sloop. "Major Littlefield!" he hailed. "Major Littlefield!" he called again."He's drowned, sir," a voice called back."He's what?""He and two other men, sir. Lost, sir.""Oh, dear God," Wadsworth said. On shore, at the top of the bluff, a fire showed through the trees. Someone brewing tea, maybe, or cooking a supper.And Major Littlefield was dead."Tragic," General Lovell said when Wadsworth told him the news of Daniel Littlefield's death, though Wadsworth was not entirely sure that hiscommanding officer had listened to what he said. Lovell, instead, was examining a British flag that had been brought on board the Sally by a squatmarine sergeant. "Isn't it splendid!" Lovell exclaimed. "We shall present it to the General Court, I think. A first trophy, Wadsworth!""The first of many that your Excellency will send to Boston," the Reverend Jonathan Murray observed."It's a gift from the marines," the sergeant put in stolidly."So you said, so you said," Lovell said with a hint of testiness, then he smiled, "and you must render Captain Welch my sincerest gratitude." He glancedat the table which was covered with papers. "Lift those documents a moment, Marston," he ordered his secretary and, when the table was clear of paper,ink, and pens, he spread the flag beneath the gently swinging lanterns. It was dark now, and the cabin was lit by four lanterns. "'Pon my soul!"'Lovell stoodback and admired the trophy'"but this will look impressive in Faneuil Hall!""You might think of sending it to Major Littlefield's wife," Wadsworth said."To his wife?" Lovell asked, evidently puzzled by the suggestion. "What on earth would she want with a flag?""A reminder of her husband's gallantry?""Oh, you'll write to her," Lovell said, "and assure her that Major Littlefield died for the cause of liberty, but I can't think that she needs an enemy flag.Really I can't. It must go to Boston." He turned to the marine sergeant. "Thank you, my fine fellow, thank you! I shall make certain the commodore knows ofmy approbation."
Page 2 and 3: THEFORTA Novel of the Revolutionary
Page 5 and 6: A voice in the darkness, a knock at
Page 7 and 8: A Note on Names and TermsIn 1779 th
Page 9: Chapter OneThere was not much wind
Page 12 and 13: ecome a base for Britain's Royal Na
Page 14 and 15: "I bloody hope so," Moore said with
Page 16 and 17: Chapter TwoLieutenant-Colonel Paul
Page 18 and 19: magazines that would keep the ammun
Page 20 and 21: "So you will take the oath?" McLean
Page 22 and 23: Excerpts of a letter from the Selec
Page 25 and 26: inflate a company into a battalion
Page 28 and 29: "The world would be better without
Page 30 and 31: So now one less man would sail east
Page 32 and 33: Chapter FourThe fleet sailed eastwa
Page 34: "We were maltreated in Boston," Cal
Page 37 and 38: Tyrannicide had also confirmed that
Page 39 and 40: From the Oath demanded by Brigadier
Page 41 and 42: "Plug it!" Little shouted at the ma
Page 43 and 44: "You promoted me to general yesterd
Page 45: "Long as it takes."They had to wait
Page 49 and 50: "He's a patriot!" Lovell said in a
Page 51 and 52: "What are you doing?" Revere again
Page 53 and 54: A rowboat banged against the Centur
Page 55 and 56: Chapter SevenThe first shots crashe
Page 57 and 58: sir," McClure shouted over the musk
Page 59 and 60: Solomon Lovell's heart seemed to mi
Page 61 and 62: From Brigadier-General Lovell's des
Page 63 and 64: emembered the tall American in his
Page 65 and 66: "We thought him indestructible," De
Page 67 and 68: could conceal men from the guns of
Page 69 and 70: Chapter Nine"Where the devil is Rev
Page 71 and 72: "Then they will have something to f
Page 73 and 74: They would attack the battery.In th
Page 75 and 76: Hundreds? He wondered. Maybe two hu
Page 77 and 78: Chapter TenThe sun had not risen wh
Page 79 and 80: Praise the Lord, Wadsworth thought,
Page 81 and 82: marsh. The rebels patrolled that gr
Page 83 and 84: Letter from Brigadier-General Lovel
Page 85 and 86: on their flank?" Easily, Wadsworth
Page 87 and 88: Commodore Saltonstall declared he w
Page 89 and 90: ecome mired in pessimism and it nee
Page 91 and 92: Chapter TwelveAnd, suddenly, there
Page 93 and 94: at their sterns. Away to port was C
Page 95 and 96: need men willing to make that attac
Page 97 and 98:
timber splinter to drive cloth into
Page 99 and 100:
Chapter ThirteenA Royal Marine at t
Page 101 and 102:
The fifty men filed through the aba
Page 103 and 104:
dared to hope that the British woul
Page 105 and 106:
From a letter by General Artemas Wa
Page 107 and 108:
the powder charges were being carri
Page 109 and 110:
fire, of the sparks flying and fall
Page 111 and 112:
Historical NoteThe Penobscot Expedi
Page 113 and 114:
on which Carnes was expertly equipp
Page 115 and 116:
About the AuthorBERNARD CORNWELL, "
Page 117 and 118:
CopyrightT HE FORT. Copyright (c) 2
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The Fort: A Novel of the Revolutionary War - xaviantvision

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