The Fort: A Novel of the Revolutionary War - xaviantvision

timber splinter to drive cloth into the flesh, for every man knew that invited gangrene. The cannon were black in the rain. Saltonstall liked a spick-and-spanship, but he had nevertheless permitted the gunners to chalk the guns' barrels. "Death to Kings," one said, "Liberty forever" was written on another, while athird, somewhat mysteriously, just said "Damn the Pope," a sentiment which seemed irrelevant to the day's business, but which so accorded with thecommodore's own prejudices that he had allowed the slogan to stay."A point to starboard," Saltonstall said to the helmsman."Aye aye, sir, point to starboard it is," the helmsman said, and made no correction. He knew what he was doing, and he knew too that the commodorewas nervous, and nervous officers were prone to give unnecessary orders. The helmsman would keep the Warren behind the General Putnam, closebehind, so close that the frigate's jib-boom almost touched the smaller ship's ensign. The harbor entrance was now a quarter mile away. Men were wavingfrom the top of Dyce's Head. Other men watched from Cross Island where the American flag flew. No guns fired. A rift of fog drifted across the harborcenter, half-shrouding the British ships. The fort was not visible yet. There was a whisper of wind, just enough so that the ships picked up speed and thesea at the Warren's cutwater made a small splashing noise. Two knots, maybe two and a half, Saltonstall thought, and one nautical mile to go before thewheel spun to lay the frigate's broadside opposite the Albany. The forecastle of the Warren looked ugly because the marines had erected barricades oflogs to protect themselves against the enemy's fire. And that fire would begin as soon as the frigate passed Dyce's Head, but most of it would be aimedat the General Putnam and for half a nautical mile the General Putnam must endure that fire without being able to answer it. At two knots that half nauticalmile would be covered in fifteen minutes. Each British gun would fire six or seven shots in that time. So at least three hundred shots would beat theGeneral Putnam's bows, which Captain Waters had reinforced with heavy timbers. Saltonstall knew that some men despised him for letting the GeneralPutnam take that beating, but what sense did it make to sacrifice the largest ship in the fleet? The Warren was the monarch of this bay, the only frigateand the only ship with eighteen-pounder cannons, and it would be foolish to let the enemy cripple her with three hundred round shot before she wascapable of unleashing her terrifying broadside.And what good would this attack do anyway? Saltonstall felt a pulse of anger that he was being asked to do this thing. Lovell should have attacked andtaken the fort days ago! The Continental Navy was having to do the Massachusetts Militia's job, and Lovell, damn him, must have complained to hismasters in Boston who had persuaded the Navy Board there to send Saltonstall a reprimand. What did they know? They were not here! The task was tocapture the fort, not sink three sloops, which, once the fort was taken, were doomed anyway. So good marines and fine sailors must die because Lovellwas a nervous idiot. "He's not fitted to be elected town Hog Reeve," Saltonstall sneered."Sir?" the helmsman asked."Nothing," the commodore snapped."By the mark three!" a seaman called from the beakhead, casting a lead-weighted line to discover the depth."We've plenty of water, sir," the helmsman said encouragingly. "I remember from the last time we poked our nose in.""Quiet, damn your eyes," Saltonstall snapped"Quiet it is, sir."The General Putnam was almost abreast of Dyce Head now. The wind faltered, though the ships kept their way. On board the British ships the gunnerswould be crouching behind their barrels to make sure their aim was true."Commodore, sir!" Midshipman Ferraby shouted from the taffrail."What is it?""Signal from the Diligent, sir. Strange sail in sight."Saltonstall turned. There, far to the south, just emerging from a band of fog which half-obscured Long Island, was his guard ship, the Diligent, with signalflags bright at a yardarm. "Ask how many sail," he ordered."It says three ships, sir.""Why the hell didn't you say so the first time, you damned fool? What ships are they?""He doesn't know, sir.""Then send an order telling him to find out!" Saltonstall barked, then took the speaking trumpet from its hook on the binnacle. He put the trumpet to hismouth. "Wear ship!" he bellowed, then turned back to the signal midshipman. "Mister Ferraby, you damned fool, make a signal to the other attack shipsthat they are to return to the anchorage!""We're going back, sir?" Lieutenant Fenwick was driven to ask."Don't you be a damned fool as well. Of course we're going back! We do nothing till we know who these strangers are!"And so the attack was suspended. The rebel ships turned away, their sails flapping like monstrous wet wings. Three strange ships were in sight, whichmeant reinforcements had arrived.But reinforcements for whom?