The Fort: A Novel of the Revolutionary War - xaviantvision

"We can't wait to see if Boston sends us troops," Wadsworth insisted, "and besides, British reinforcements are just as likely! We were sent here toperform a task, so for God's sake, let us do it! And do it now before the enemy is strengthened.""I doubt we can do it now," Lovell said, "tomorrow, maybe?""Then tomorrow!" Wadsworth said, exasperated. "But let us do it! Let us do what we came here to do, to do what our country expects of us! Let us doit!"There was silence, broken by Lovell who looked brightly about the cabin. "We certainly have something to discuss," he said."And let us not discuss it," Wadsworth said harshly, "but make a decision."Lovell looked startled at his deputy's forcefulness. For a moment it seemed as if he would try to wrest back the command of the cabin, but Wadsworth'sface was grim and Lovell acceded to the demand. "Very well," he said stiffly, "we shall make a decision. Would all those in favor of General Wadsworth'sproposal please so indicate now?" Wadsworth's hand shot up. Lovell hesitated, then raised his own hand. Other men followed Lovell's lead, even thosewho usually supported an end to the siege. All but one."And those opposed?" Lovell asked. Lieutenant-Colonel Revere raised his hand."I declare the motion carried," Lovell said, "and we shall beg the commodore to support us in an attack tomorrow."The next day would be Friday, August the thirteenth.Friday the thirteenth dawned fair. The wind was light and there was no fog, which meant the rebel battery on Cross Island opened fire at first light, as didthe more distant eighteen-pounder on the northern shore beyond the peninsula. The balls slammed hard into the hulls of the British sloops.Captain Mowat was resigned to the bombardment. He had moved his ships twice, but there was no other anchorage to which he could retreat now, notunless he moved the sloops far away from the fort. The pumps on all three sloops worked continually, manned by sailors who chanted shanties as theydrove the great handles up and down. The Albany's carpenter was patching the hull as well as he was able, but the big eighteen-pounder shots tore upthe oak planking with savage force. "I'll keep her afloat, sir," the carpenter promised Mowat at dawn. He had plugged three horrible gashes at the sloop'swaterline, but a proper repair would have to wait till the sloop could be beached or docked."Luckily they're still shooting high," Mowat said."Pray God they go on doing that, sir.""I hope you are bloody praying!" Mowat said."Day and night, sir, night and day." The carpenter was a Methodist and kept a well-thumbed copy of the Bible in his carpenter's apron. He frowned as arebel ball struck the taffrail and showered splinters across the afterdeck. "I'll mend the topsides when we've done the lower strakes, sir.""Topsides can wait," Mowat said. He did not care how ragged his ship looked so long as she floated and could carry her guns. Those guns were silentfor now. Mowat reckoned his nine-pounders could do little damage to the battery on Cross Island and none of his guns was powerful enough to reach thenew battery to the north, and so he did not waste powder and shot on the rebels. One of Captain Fielding's twelve-pounders, up at the fort, slammed shotsinto Cross Island, a fire that merely served to keep the rebels hidden deep among the trees. A crackle of muskets sounded ashore. In the last few daysthat noise had been constant as McLean's men infiltrated the trees by the neck or else hunted through the fields and barns of the settlement in search ofrebel patrols. They were doing it without orders and McLean, though he approved the sentiments behind such rebel hunting, had commanded that it bestopped. Mowat guessed that the flurry of shots came from Captain Caffrae's Light Company, which had kept up its harassment of the enemy lines."Deck ahoy!" a lookout called from the foremast. "Swimmer!""Do we have a man overboard?" Mowat demanded of the officer of the watch."No, sir."Mowat went forrard to see that a man was indeed swimming towards the Albany from the direction of the harbor mouth. He looked exhausted. Heswam a few strokes, then trod water before feebly trying to swim again, and Mowat shouted at the bosun to heave the man a line. It took a moment for theman to find the line, then he was hauled to the sloop's side and dragged up on deck. He was a seaman with a long pigtail hanging down his bare backand pictures of whales and anchors tattooed onto his chest and forearms. He stood dripping and then, exhausted and shivering, sat on one of the ninepoundertrucks. "What's your name, sailor?" Mowat asked."Freeman, sir, Malachi Freeman.""Fetch him a blanket," Mowat ordered, "and some tea. Put a tot of rum in the tea. Where are you from, Freeman?""Nantucket, sir.""A fine place," Mowat said. "So what brought you here?""I was pressed, sir. Pressed in Boston.""Onto what vessel?""The Warren, sir."Freeman was a young man, scarce twenty years old Mowat judged, and he had swum from the Warren in the night's dark. He had reached the beachbeneath Dyce's Head where he had shivered and waited for the guard boats to retreat in the dawn. Then he had swum for the sloops."What are you, Freeman?" Mowat asked. He saw how Freeman's hands were stained black from continually climbing tarred rigging. "A topman?""Aye aye, sir, four years now.""His Majesty always appreciates a good topman," Mowat said, "and are you willing to serve His Majesty?""Aye aye, sir.""We'll swear you in." Mowat said, then waited as a blanket was draped about the deserter's shoulders and a can of hot rum-laced tea thrust into hishands. "Drink that first.""They're coming for you, sir," Freeman said, his teeth chattering."Coming for me?""The commodore is, sir. He's coming today, sir. They told us last night. And he's making bulwarks on the Warren's bow, sir.""Bulwarks?""They're strengtherning the bows, sir, and putting three layers of logs across the fo'c'sle, sir, to protect the marines."Mowat looked at the shivering man. He played with the idea that the rebels had sent Freeman with deliberately misleading information, but that madelittle sense. If Saltonstall wished to mislead Mowat he would surely pretend he was withdrawing, not attacking. So the rebels were coming at last? Mowatgazed westwards to where he could just see the anchored warships beyond Dyce's Head. "How many ships will come?" he asked."Don't know, sir.""I don't suppose you do," Mowat said. He walked to the main shrouds and propped a glass on one of the ratlines. Sure enough he could see menworking on the bows of the Warren. They appeared to be roving new lines to the bowsprit, while others were hauling logs up from a longboat. So, at longlast, they were coming? "It won't be till the afternoon flood," he said to his first lieutenant."That gives us most of the day to get ready, sir.""Aye, it does." Mowt collapsed the glass and looked up at the sky. "The glass?" he asked."Still falling, sir.""So there's dirty weather coming as well, then," Mowat said. The sky was pellucid now, but he reckoned there would be clouds, fog, and rain beforenightfall by when, he knew, he would either be dead or captured. He was under no illusions. His small flotilla could do grievous damage to the Americanships, but he could not defeat them. Once the Warren turned her broadside onto the sloops she could pound them with guns that were twice as heavy asthe British cannon, and defeat was inevitable. The Warren would be hurt, but the Albany would die. That was unavoidable, so the most Mowat could hopefor was to hurt the Warren badly, then get his men safe on land where they could help McLean defend the fort. "All marines are to be brought backaboard," he told his first lieutenant, "and all guns double-shotted. Sand the decks. Tell the surgeon to sharpen his damn knives. We'll go down snarling, butby God, they'll know they've been fighting against the Royal Navy."Then he sent a message to McLean.The rebels are coming.Peleg Wadsworth asked for volunteers. The militia, in truth, had been disappointing and, except for the first day ashore when they had climbed the bluff tothrow back the strong enemy picquet, they had not fought with spirit. But that did not mean there were no brave men among them, and Wadsworth onlywanted the brave. He walked around the woods and talked to groups of men, he spoke to the picquets manning the earthworks that edged the woods,and he told all of them what he planned. "We're going along the harbor shore," he said, "and once we're behind the enemy, between him and his ships, weshall make an assault. We won't be alone. The commodore will enter the harbor and fight the enemy, and his ships will bombard the fort while we attack. I