encounter."Well, here <strong>the</strong> two <strong>of</strong> us are," McLean said happily, "a tyrant and his downtrodden victim, talking toge<strong>the</strong>r." He pointed his pipe stem towards <strong>the</strong> fortwhere John Moore had gone on his way to <strong>the</strong> hospital. "Young Moore reads his history. He's a fine young man too. He likes history, and here he is, herewe both are, writing a new chapter. I sometimes wish I could peer into <strong>the</strong> future and read <strong>the</strong> chapter we write.""You might not like it," Wadsworth said."I think it certain that one <strong>of</strong> us will not," McLean said.<strong>The</strong> conversation faltered. McLean drew on his pipe and Wadsworth gazed at <strong>the</strong> nearby ramparts. He could see <strong>the</strong> timber spikes in <strong>the</strong> ditch and,above <strong>the</strong>m, <strong>the</strong> earth and log wall that was now higher than a man's head. No one could leap <strong>the</strong> ramparts now, <strong>the</strong> wall would need to be climbed andfought for. It would be hard and bloody work and he wondered if even Continental Army troops could manage it. <strong>The</strong>y could if <strong>the</strong> wall were breached andWadsworth looked for evidence that Colonel Revere's guns were having any effect, but o<strong>the</strong>r than <strong>the</strong> mangled ro<strong>of</strong> <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> storehouse inside <strong>the</strong> fort <strong>the</strong>rewas little sign <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> cannonade. <strong>The</strong>re were places where <strong>the</strong> wall had been battered by round shot, but those places had all been repaired. Mortars, hethought, mortars. We need to turn <strong>the</strong> interior <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> fort into a cauldron <strong>of</strong> shrieking metal and searing flame. <strong>The</strong> curtain wall between <strong>the</strong> protrudingcorner bastions was lined with redcoats who gazed back at Wadsworth, intrigued by <strong>the</strong> proximity <strong>of</strong> a rebel. Wadsworth tried to count <strong>the</strong> men, but <strong>the</strong>rewere too many."I'm keeping most <strong>of</strong> my men hidden," McLean said.Wadsworth felt guilty, which was ridiculous because it was his duty to examine <strong>the</strong> enemy. Indeed, General Lovell had only agreed to this inquiry aboutLieutenant Dennis's fate because it <strong>of</strong>fered Wadsworth an opportunity to examine <strong>the</strong> enemy's defenses. "We're keeping most <strong>of</strong> ours hidden too,"Wadsworth said."Which is sensible <strong>of</strong> you," McLean said. "I see from your uniform you served in Mister Washington's army?""I was an aide to <strong>the</strong> general, yes," Wadsworth said, <strong>of</strong>fended by <strong>the</strong> British habit <strong>of</strong> referring to George Washington as "mister.""A formidable man," McLean said. "I'm sorry young Moore is taking so long." Wadsworth made no answer and <strong>the</strong> Scotsman smiled wryly. "You verynearly killed him.""Lieutenant Moore?""He insisted on fighting <strong>the</strong> war single-handed, which I suppose is a good fault in a young <strong>of</strong>ficer, but I'm pr<strong>of</strong>oundly grateful he survived. He had greatpromise.""As a soldier?""As a man and as a soldier. Like your Lieutenant Dennis, he is a good young man. If I had a son, General, I should wish him to be like Moore. Do youhave children?""Two sons and a daughter, and ano<strong>the</strong>r child coming very soon."McLean heard <strong>the</strong> warmth in Wadsworth's voice. "You're a fortunate man, General.""I think so."McLean drew on <strong>the</strong> pipe, <strong>the</strong>n blew a stream <strong>of</strong> smoke into <strong>the</strong> damp air. "If you will allow an enemy's prayers, General, <strong>the</strong>n let me pray you will bereunited with your family.""Thank you.""Of course," McLean said blandly, "you could effect that reconciliation by withdrawing now?""But we have orders to capture you first," Wadsworth said with some amusement in his voice."I shall not pray for that," McLean said."I think, perhaps, we should have attempted it a week ago," Wadsworth said ruefully, and immediately wished he had left <strong>the</strong> words unspoken. McLeansaid nothing, merely inclined his head, which small gesture might have been interpreted as agreement. "But we shall attempt it again," Wadsworthfinished."You must do your duty, General, <strong>of</strong> course you must," McLean said, <strong>the</strong>n turned because Wadsworth had looked towards <strong>the</strong> fort's southwestern corner.John Moore had appeared <strong>the</strong>re and now walked towards <strong>the</strong>m with a scabbarded sword held in one hand. <strong>The</strong> lieutenant glanced at Wadsworth, <strong>the</strong>nbent and whispered in McLean's ear and <strong>the</strong> general winced and closed his eyes momentarily. "I am sorry, General Wadsworth," he said, "but LieutenantDennis died this morning. You may be assured that he received <strong>the</strong> best treatment we could <strong>of</strong>fer, but, alas, <strong>the</strong> ministrations were not sufficient." McLeanstood.Wadsworth stood too. He looked at McLean's grave face and <strong>the</strong>n, to his shame, tears rolled down his cheeks. He turned away abruptly."<strong>The</strong>re is nothing to be ashamed <strong>of</strong>," McLean said."He was a fine man," Wadsworth said, and he knew he was not crying because <strong>of</strong> Dennis's death, but because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> waste and indecision <strong>of</strong> thiscampaign. He sniffed, composed himself, and turned back to McLean. "Please thank your doctor for whatever he attempted.""I will," McLean said, "and please be assured we shall give Lieutenant Dennis a Christian burial.""Bury him in his uniform, please.""We shall do that, <strong>of</strong> course," McLean promised. He took <strong>the</strong> scabbarded sword from Moore. "I presume you brought this because it belonged to <strong>the</strong>lieutenant?" he asked Moore."Yes, sir."McLean handed <strong>the</strong> sword to Wadsworth. "You might wish to return that to his family, General, and you may tell <strong>the</strong>m from his enemy that <strong>the</strong>ir son diedfighting heroically. <strong>The</strong>y can be proud <strong>of</strong> him.""I shall," Wadsworth said and took <strong>the</strong> sword. "Thank you for indulging my inquiry," he said to McLean."I enjoyed most <strong>of</strong> our conversation," McLean said and held a hand towards <strong>the</strong> abatis as though he were a host conducting an honored guest towardshis front door. "I am truly sorry about your Lieutenant Dennis," he said, walking westwards beside <strong>the</strong> much taller American. "Maybe one day, General, youand I can sit in peace and talk about <strong>the</strong>se things.""I'd like that.""As would I," McLean said, stopping just short <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> abatis. He smiled mischievously. "And do please give my regards to young James Fletcher.""Fletcher," Wadsworth said as if <strong>the</strong> name was new to him."We have telescopes, General," McLean said, amused. "I regret he chose <strong>the</strong> allegiance he did. I regret that very much, but do tell him his sister is well,and that <strong>the</strong> tyrants give her and her mo<strong>the</strong>r rations." He held out his hand. "We won't resume our cannon practice till you're back among <strong>the</strong> trees," hesaid.Wadsworth hesitated, <strong>the</strong>n shook <strong>the</strong> <strong>of</strong>fered hand. "Thank you, General," he said, <strong>the</strong>n began <strong>the</strong> long, lonely walk back up <strong>the</strong> ridge's spine.McLean stayed at <strong>the</strong> abatis, watching Wadsworth's solitary walk. "He's ra<strong>the</strong>r a good man, I think," he said when <strong>the</strong> American was well out <strong>of</strong> earshot."He's a rebel," Moore said disapprovingly."And if you or I had been born here," McLean said, "<strong>the</strong>n like as not we would be rebels too.""Sir!" John Moore sounded shocked.McLean laughed. "But we were born across <strong>the</strong> sea, and it's not so many years since we had our own rebels in Scotland. And I did like him." He stillwatched Wadsworth. "He's a man who wears his honesty like a badge, but luckily for you and me he's no soldier. He's a schoolmaster and that makes usfortunate in our enemies. Now let's get back inside before <strong>the</strong>y start shooting at us again."At dusk, that same day, Lieutenant Dennis was buried in his green uniform. Four highlanders shot a volley into <strong>the</strong> fading light, <strong>the</strong>n a wooden cross washammered into <strong>the</strong> soil. <strong>The</strong> name Dennis was scratched on <strong>the</strong> cross with charcoal, but two days later a corporal took <strong>the</strong> cross for kindling.And <strong>the</strong> siege went on.<strong>The</strong> three redcoats slipped out <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> tented encampment at mid-afternoon on <strong>the</strong> day that <strong>the</strong> enemy <strong>of</strong>ficer had come to <strong>the</strong> fort under a flag <strong>of</strong> truce.<strong>The</strong>y had no idea why <strong>the</strong> rebel had come, nor did <strong>the</strong>y care. <strong>The</strong>y cared about <strong>the</strong> sentries placed to stop men sneaking out <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> camp and into <strong>the</strong>woods, but that picquet was easy enough to avoid, and <strong>the</strong> three men vanished into <strong>the</strong> trees and <strong>the</strong>n turned west towards <strong>the</strong> enemy.Two were bro<strong>the</strong>rs called Campbell, <strong>the</strong> third was a Mackenzie. <strong>The</strong>y all wore <strong>the</strong> dark kilt <strong>of</strong> Argyle and carried <strong>the</strong>ir muskets. Off to <strong>the</strong>ir left <strong>the</strong>cannons were firing, <strong>the</strong> sound sporadic, sudden, percussive and now a part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir daily lives. "Down <strong>the</strong>re," Jamie Campbell said, pointing, and <strong>the</strong>three followed a vague track which led downhill through <strong>the</strong> trees. All three were grinning, excited. <strong>The</strong> day was gray and a light rain spat from <strong>the</strong>southwest.<strong>The</strong> track led to <strong>the</strong> marshy isthmus that connected Majabigwaduce's peninsula to <strong>the</strong> mainland. Jamie, <strong>the</strong> oldest <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> bro<strong>the</strong>rs and <strong>the</strong>acknowledged leader <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> three men, did not want to reach <strong>the</strong> isthmus, ra<strong>the</strong>r he was hoping to work his way along <strong>the</strong> wooded slope just above <strong>the</strong>
marsh. <strong>The</strong> rebels patrolled that ground. He had seen <strong>the</strong>m <strong>the</strong>re. Sometimes Captain Caffrae's company went to <strong>the</strong> same land and ambushed a rebelpatrol, or else mocked <strong>the</strong> Americans with fife music and jeers. This afternoon, though, <strong>the</strong> wood above <strong>the</strong> marsh seemed empty. <strong>The</strong> three crouched in<strong>the</strong> brush and gazed west towards <strong>the</strong> enemy lines. To <strong>the</strong>ir right <strong>the</strong> trees were thinner, while ahead was a small clearing in which a spring bubbled. "Nota bloody soul here," Mackenzie grumbled."<strong>The</strong>y come here," Jamie said. He was nineteen, with dark eyes, black hair, and a hunter's watchful face. "Watch up <strong>the</strong> slope," he told his bro<strong>the</strong>r, "wedon't want bloody Caffrae finding us."<strong>The</strong>y waited. Birds, now as accustomed to <strong>the</strong> cannon-fire as <strong>the</strong> troops, sang harshly in <strong>the</strong> trees. A small animal, strangely striped, flitted across <strong>the</strong>clearing. Jamie Campbell stroked <strong>the</strong> stock <strong>of</strong> his musket. He loved his musket. He treated <strong>the</strong> stock with oil and boot-blacking so that <strong>the</strong> wood wassmooth like silk, and <strong>the</strong> caress <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> weapon's dark curves put him in mind <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> sergeant's widow in Halifax. He smiled."<strong>The</strong>re!" his bro<strong>the</strong>r Robbie hissed.Four rebels had appeared at <strong>the</strong> clearing's far side. <strong>The</strong>y were in dull brown coats, trews and hats, and festooned with belts, pouches, and bayonetscabbards. Three <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> men carried two pails apiece, <strong>the</strong> fourth had a musket in his hands. <strong>The</strong>y shambled to <strong>the</strong> spring where <strong>the</strong>y stooped to fill <strong>the</strong>irbuckets."Now!" Jamie said, and <strong>the</strong> three muskets flamed loud. One <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> men at <strong>the</strong> spring was thrown sideways, his blood a flicker <strong>of</strong> red in <strong>the</strong> gray rain.<strong>The</strong> fourth rebel shot back at <strong>the</strong> smoke among <strong>the</strong> trees, but Mackenzie and <strong>the</strong> Campbell bro<strong>the</strong>rs were already running away, whooping and laughing.It was sport. <strong>The</strong> general had forbidden it, and had threatened a dire punishment to any man who left <strong>the</strong> lines to take a shot at <strong>the</strong> enemy withoutpermission, but <strong>the</strong> young Scotsmen loved <strong>the</strong> risk. If <strong>the</strong> rebels would not come to <strong>the</strong>m <strong>the</strong>n <strong>the</strong>y would go to <strong>the</strong> rebels, whatever <strong>the</strong> general wanted.Now all <strong>the</strong>y needed to do was get back safe to <strong>the</strong> tents without being found.<strong>The</strong>n, tomorrow, do it again.Samuel Adams reached Major-General Horatio Gates's headquarters at Providence in Rhode Island late in <strong>the</strong> afternoon. Swollen clouds were heaping,and <strong>of</strong>f to <strong>the</strong> west <strong>the</strong> thunder already grumbled. It was hot and humid and Adams was shown into a small parlor where, despite <strong>the</strong> open windows, nohint <strong>of</strong> wind brought relief. He wiped his face with a big spotted handkerchief. "Would you like tea, sir?" a pale lieutenant in Continental Army uniformasked."Ale," Samuel Adams said firmly."Ale, sir?""Ale," Samuel Adams said even more firmly."General Gates will be with you directly, sir," <strong>the</strong> lieutenant said distantly and, Adams suspected, inaccurately, <strong>the</strong>n vanished into <strong>the</strong> ne<strong>the</strong>r regions <strong>of</strong><strong>the</strong> house.<strong>The</strong> ale was brought. It was sour, but drinkable. Thunder sounded louder, though no rain fell and still no wind blew through <strong>the</strong> open sash windows.Adams wondered if he was hearing <strong>the</strong> sound <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> siege guns pounding <strong>the</strong> British in Newport, but all reports said <strong>the</strong> attempts to evict that garrisonhad proven hopeless, and a moment later a distant flash <strong>of</strong> lightning confirmed that it was indeed thunder. A dog howled and a woman's voice was raisedin anger. Samuel Adams closed his eyes and dozed.He was woken by <strong>the</strong> sound <strong>of</strong> nailed boots on <strong>the</strong> wooden floor <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> hallway. He sat upright just as Major-General Horatio Gates came into <strong>the</strong> parlor."You rode from Boston, Mister Adams?" <strong>the</strong> general boomed in greeting."Indeed I did."Despite <strong>the</strong> heat Gates had been wearing a greatcoat which he now threw to <strong>the</strong> lieutenant. "Tea," he said, "tea, tea, tea.""Very good, your honor," <strong>the</strong> lieutenant said."And tea for Mister Adams!""Ale!" Adams called in correction, but <strong>the</strong> lieutenant was already gone.Gates unstrapped <strong>the</strong> scabbarded sword he wore over his Continental Army uniform and slammed it onto a table heaped with paperwork. "How arematters in Boston, Adams?""We do <strong>the</strong> Lord's work," Adams said gently, though Gates entirely missed <strong>the</strong> irony. <strong>The</strong> general was a tall man a few years younger than SamuelAdams, who, after his long ride down <strong>the</strong> Boston Post Road, was feeling every one <strong>of</strong> his fifty-seven years. Gates glared at <strong>the</strong> papers resting under hissword. He was, Adams thought, an <strong>of</strong>ficer much given to glaring. <strong>The</strong> general was heavy-jowled with a powdered wig that was not quite large enough tohide his gray hairs. Sweat trickled from under <strong>the</strong> wig. "And how do you fare in this fair island?" Adams asked."Island?" Gates asked, looking suspiciously at his visitor. "Ah, Rhode Island. Damn silly name. It's all <strong>the</strong> fault <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> French, Adams, <strong>the</strong> French. If <strong>the</strong>damned French had kept <strong>the</strong>ir word we'd have evicted <strong>the</strong> enemy from Newport. But <strong>the</strong> French, damn <strong>the</strong>ir eyes, won't bring <strong>the</strong>ir ships. Damned fartcatchers,every last one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>m.""Yet <strong>the</strong>y are our valued allies.""So are <strong>the</strong> damned Spanish," Gates said disparagingly."As are <strong>the</strong> damned Spanish," Adams agreed."Fart-catchers and papists," Gates said, "what kind <strong>of</strong> allies are those, eh?" He sat opposite Adams, long booted legs sprawling on a faded rug. Mudand horse dung were caked on <strong>the</strong> soles <strong>of</strong> his boots. He steepled his fingers and stared at his visitor. "What brings you to Providence?" he asked. "No,don't tell me yet. On <strong>the</strong> table. Serve us." <strong>The</strong> last five words were addressed to <strong>the</strong> pale lieutenant who placed a tray on <strong>the</strong> table and <strong>the</strong>n, in an awkwardsilence, poured two cups <strong>of</strong> tea. "You can go now," Gates said to <strong>the</strong> hapless lieutenant. "A man cannot live without tea," he declared to Adams."A blessing <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> British empire?" Adams suggested mischievously."Thunder," Gates said, remarking on a clap that sounded loud and close, "but it won't get here. It'll die with <strong>the</strong> day." He sipped his tea noisily. "You hearmuch from Philadelphia?""Little you cannot read in <strong>the</strong> newsprints.""We're dillydallying," Gates said, "dillydallying, shilly-shallying, and lollygagging. We need a great deal more energy, Adams.""I am sure your honor is right," Adams said, taking his cue for <strong>the</strong> honorific from <strong>the</strong> lieutenant's mode <strong>of</strong> address. Gates was nicknamed "Granny,"though Adams thought that too kind for a man so touchy and sensible <strong>of</strong> his dignity. Granny had been born and raised in England and had served in <strong>the</strong>British Army for many years before a lack <strong>of</strong> money, slow promotion, and an ambitious wife had driven him to settle in Virginia. His undoubtedcompetence as an administrator had brought him high rank in <strong>the</strong> Continental Army, but it was no secret that Horatio Gates thought his rank should behigher still. He openly despised General Washington, believing that victory would only come when Major-General Horatio Gates was given command <strong>of</strong><strong>the</strong> patriot armies. "And how would your honor suggest we campaign?" Adams asked."Well, it's no damned good sitting on your fat backside staring at <strong>the</strong> enemy in New York," Gates said energetically, "no damned good at all!"Adams gave a flutter <strong>of</strong> his hands that might have been construed as agreement. When he rested his hands on his lap again he saw <strong>the</strong> slight tremor inhis fingers. It would not go away. Age, he supposed, and sighed inwardly."<strong>The</strong> Congress must come to its senses," Gates declared."<strong>The</strong> Congress, <strong>of</strong> course, pays close heed to <strong>the</strong> sentiments <strong>of</strong> Massachusetts," Adams said, dangling a great fat carrot in front <strong>of</strong> Gates's greedymouth. <strong>The</strong> general wanted Massachusetts to demand George Washington's dismissal and <strong>the</strong> appointment <strong>of</strong> Horatio Gates as commander <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>Continental Army."And you agree with me?" Gates asked."How could I possibly disagree with a man <strong>of</strong> your military experience, General?"Gates heard what he wanted to hear in that answer. He stood and poured himself more tea. "So <strong>the</strong> State <strong>of</strong> Massachusetts wants my help?" he asked."And I had not even stated my purpose," Adams said with feigned admiration."Not difficult to grasp, is it? You've sent your pillow-biters <strong>of</strong>f to Penobscot Bay and <strong>the</strong>y can't get <strong>the</strong> job done." He turned a scornful face on Adams."Sam Savage wrote to tell me <strong>the</strong> British had surrendered. Not true, eh?""Alas, not true," Adams said with a sigh. "<strong>The</strong> garrison appears to be a more difficult nut to crack than we had supposed.""McLean, right? A competent man. Not brilliant, but competent. You wish for more tea?""This is as sufficient as it is delicious," Adams said, touching a finger to <strong>the</strong> untasted cup."You sent your militia. How many?""General Lovell commands around a thousand men.""What does he want?""Regular troops."
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THEFORTA Novel of the Revolutionary
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A voice in the darkness, a knock at
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A Note on Names and TermsIn 1779 th
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Chapter OneThere was not much wind
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ecome a base for Britain's Royal Na
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"I bloody hope so," Moore said with
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Chapter TwoLieutenant-Colonel Paul
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magazines that would keep the ammun
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"So you will take the oath?" McLean
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Excerpts of a letter from the Selec
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inflate a company into a battalion
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"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
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- 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 and 46: "Long as it takes."They had to wait
- Page 47 and 48: Chapter SixThe daylight was fading.
- 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
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- Page 77 and 78: Chapter TenThe sun had not risen wh
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- 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
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- 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
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- 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