The Fort: A Novel of the Revolutionary War - xaviantvision

Thursday brought a clear sky and a gentle southerly wind that ruffled the bay. Longboats brought the skippers of all the warships to the Warren whereCommodore Saltonstall welcomed them with an exaggerated and atypical courtesy. He had directed that all the visiting captains must board the Warrenby the forrard starboard gangway because that entranceway allowed them a good view of the blood-smeared deck and of the cannon-shattered base ofthe mainmast. He wanted the visiting captains to imagine what damage the enemy could do to their own ships, none of which was as large or powerful asthe Warren.Once they had seen the damage they were escorted to Saltonstall's cabin where the long table was set with glasses and bottles of rum. Thecommodore invited the captains to sit and took amusement from the discomfort that many of them plainly felt at the unaccustomed elegance of thefurnishings. The table was polished maple and at night could be illuminated by spermaceti candles, which now stood unlit in elaborate silver sticks. Two ofthe transom windows had been broken by a British round shot and Saltonstall had deliberately left the shattered panes and splintered frames asreminders to the captains what their own ships might suffer if they insisted on an attack. "We must congratulate the army," Saltonstall began the council ofwar, "for their success yesterday in dislodging the enemy from the heights, though I deeply regret that Captain Welch was lost in that success."A few men murmured expressions of sympathy, but most watched Saltonstall warily. He was known as a supercilious, distant man, and a man to whomthey had jointly sent a letter chiding him for failing to press home his attack on Mowat's ships, yet now he was apparently affable. "Do partake of the rum,"he said, waving carelessly at the dark bottles, "provided by our enemies. It was taken from a merchantman off Nantucket.""Never too early in the day for a tot," Nathaniel West of the Black Prince said, and poured himself a generous glass. "Your health, Commodore.""I appreciate your sentiment," Saltonstall said silkily, "just as I would appreciate your advice." He waved around the table, indicating that he soughtevery man's opinion. "Our army," he said, "now commands the fort and may attack when and how it wishes. Once the fort has fallen, as it must, then theenemy's position in the harbor is untenable. Their ships must either sail out into our guns or else surrender.""Or scuttle themselves," James Johnston of the Pallas said."Or scuttle themselves," Saltonstall agreed. "Now, I know there is an opinion that we should preempt that choice by sailing into the harbor and attackingthe enemy directly. It is the propriety of that action I wish to discuss." He paused and there was an embarrassed silence in the cabin, every man thereremembering the letter they had jointly signed. That letter had chided Saltonstall for not sailing into the harbor and bringing on a general action with thethree sloops, an action that surely would have resulted in an American victory. Saltonstall let their embarrassment stretch for an uncomfortable time, thensmiled. "Allow me to present you with the circumstances, gentlemen. The enemy have three armed ships arrayed in line facing the harbor entrance.Therefore any ship which enters the harbor will be raked by their combined broadsides. In addition, the enemy has a grand battery in the fort and asecond battery on the slope beneath the fort. Those combined guns will have free play on any attacking ships. I need hardly tell you that the leadingvessels will suffer considerable damage and endure grievous casualties from the enemy's cannonade.""As you did yesterday, sir," Captain Philip Brown of the Continental Navy's brig Diligent, said loyally."As we did," Saltonstall agreed."But the enemy will be hurt too," John Cathcart of Tyrannicide said."The enemy will indeed be hurt," Saltonstall agreed, "but are we not persuaded that the enemy is doomed anyway? Our infantry are poised to assaultthe fort and, when the fort surrenders, so must the ships. On the other hand," he paused to add emphasis to what he was about to say, "the defeat of theships in no way forces the fort to surrender. Do I make myself plain? Take the fort and the ships are doomed. Take the ships and the fort survives. Ourbusiness here is to remove the British troops, to which end the fort must be taken. The enemy ships, gentlemen, are as dependant on the fort as are theBritish redcoats."None of the men about the table were cowards, but half of them were in business and their business was privateering. Nine captains at the table eitherowned the ship they commanded or else possessed a high share in the vessel's ownership, and a privateer did not make a profit by fighting enemywarships. Privateers pursued lightly armed merchantmen. If a privateer was lost then the owner's investment was lost with it, and those captains,weighting the chances of high casualties and expensive damage to their ships, began to see the wisdom of Saltonstall's suggestion. They had all seenthe bloodied deck and splintered mast of the Warren and feared seeing worse on their own expensive ships. So why not allow the army to capture thefort? It was as good as captured anyway, and the commodore was plainly right that the British ships would have no choice but to surrender once the fortfell.Lieutenant George Little of the Massachusetts Navy was more belligerent. "It isn't to do with the fort," he insisted, "it's to do with killing the bastards andtaking their ships.""Which ships will be ours," Saltonstall said, miraculously keeping his temper, "when the fort falls.""Which it must," Philip Brown said."Which it must," Saltonstall agreed. He forced himself to look into Little's angry eyes. "Suppose twenty of your men are killed in an attack on the ships,and after the battle the fort still survives. To what purpose, then, did your men die?""We came here to kill the enemy," Little said."We came here to defeat the enemy," Saltonstall corrected him, and a murmur of agreement sounded in the cabin. The commodore sensed the moodand took a leaf from General Lovell's book. "You all expressed your sentiments to me in a letter," he said, "and I appreciate the zeal that letter displayed,but I would humbly suggest," he paused, having surprised even himself by using the word "humbly," "that the letter was sent without a full appreciation ofthe tactical circumstances that confront us. So permit me to put a motion to the vote. Considering the enemy positions, would it not be more prudent toallow the army to complete its success without risking our ships in what must prove to be an attack irrelevant to the expedition's stated purpose?"The assembled captains hesitated, but one by one the privateer owners voted against any attack through the harbor entrance and, once those mengave the lead, the rest followed, all except for George Little who neither voted for nor against, but just scowled at the table."I thank you, gentlemen," Saltonstall said, hiding his satisfaction. These men had possessed the temerity to write him a letter which implicitly suggestedcowardice, and yet, faced with the facts of the situation, they had overwhelmingly voted against the very sentiments their letter had expressed. Thecommodore despised them. "I shall inform General Lovell," Saltonstall said, "of the Council's decision."So the warships would not attack.And General Lovell was digging earthworks in the woods to repel a British attack.And General McLean was strengthening the fort.Captain Welch was buried close to where he had died on Dyce's Head. Marines dug the grave. They had already buried six of their companions lowerdown the slope where the soil was easier to dig, and at first they had put Welch's corpse in that common grave, but a sergeant had ordered the captain'sbody removed before the grave was filled with earth. "He took the high ground," the sergeant said, "and he should hold it forever."So a new grave had been hacked on the rocky headland. Peleg Wadsworth came to see the corpse lowered into the hole and with him was theReverend Murray who spoke a few somber words in the gray dawn. A cutlass and a pistol were laid on the blanket-shrouded corpse. "So he can kill thered-coated bastards in hell," Sergeant Sykes explained. The Reverend Murray smiled bravely and Wadsworth nodded approval. Rocks were heaped onthe captain's grave so that scavening animals could not scratch him out of the ground he had captured.Once the brief ceremony was over Wadsworth walked to the tree line and gazed at the fort. Lieutenant Dennis joined him. "The wall's higher today,"Dennis said."It is.""But we can scale it," Dennis said robustly.Wadsworth used a small telescope to examine the British work. Redcoats were deepening the western ditch that faced the American lines and usingthe excavated soil to heighten the wall, but the farther wall, the eastern rampart, was still little more than a scrape in the dirt. "If we could get behind them . .." he mused aloud."Oh we can!" Dennis said."You think so?"A thunder of gunfire obliterated the marine lieutenant's reply. The semicircular British battery on the harbor's lower slope had fired its cannon across theharbor towards Cross Island. No sooner had the sound faded than the three enemy sloops began firing. "Is the commodore attacking?" Wadsworthasked.The two men moved to the southern crest and saw that two privateers were firing through the harbor entrance, though neither ship was making anyattempt to sail through that narrow gap. They fired at long range and the three sloops shot back. "Gun practice," Dennis said dismissively."You think we can get behind the fort?" Wadsworth asked."Capture that battery, sir," Dennis said, pointing down at the semicircle of earth that protected the British cannon. "Once we have that we can make ourway along the harbor shore. There's plenty of cover!" The route along the harbor shore wandered past cornfields, log piles, houses, and barns, all of which