The Fort: A Novel of the Revolutionary War Part 33

"But all will be well," Lovell said with sublime confidence. "Some energy and application will preserve us."

Little could be done while there was no wind to move the ships. Yet Lovell was pleased with the night's work. Everything that could be saved from the heights, all except for one gun carriage, had been embarked and that achievement, in a night of rain and chaos, had been remarkable. It boded well for the army's survival. "We have all our guns," Lovell said, "all our men and all our supplies!"

"Almost all our guns," Major Todd corrected the general.

"Almost?" Lovell asked indignantly.

"The cannon were not recovered from Cross Island," Major Todd said.

"Not recovered! But I gave distinct orders that they were to be withdrawn!"

"Colonel Revere claimed he was too busy, sir."

Lovell stared at the major. "Busy?"

"Colonel Revere also claimed, sir," Todd went on, taking some pleasure in describing the failings of his enemy, "that your orders no longer applied to him."

Lovell gaped at his brigade major. "He said what?"

"He averred that the siege had been abandoned, sir, and that therefore he was no longer obliged to accept your orders."

"Not obliged to accept my orders?" Lovell asked in disbelief.

"That is what he claimed, sir," Todd said icily. "So I fear those guns are lost, sir, unless we have time to retrieve them this morning. I also regret to tell you, sir, that the pay chest is missing."

"It'll turn up," Lovell said dismissively, still brooding over Lieutenant-Colonel Revere's brazen insolence. Not obliged to accept orders? Who did Revere think he was?

"We need the pay chest," Todd insisted.

"It will be found, I'm sure," Lovell said testily. There had been chaos in the dark and it was inevitable that some items would have been carried to the wrong transport ship, but that could all be sorted out once a safe anchorage was discovered and protected. "But first we must haul those guns off Cross Island," Lovell insisted, "I will leave nothing for the British. You hear me? Nothing!"

But there was no time to rescue the cannon. The first catspaws of wind had just begun to ruffle the bay and the British fleet was already hauling its anchors and loosing sails. The rebel fleet had to move and one by one the anchors were raised, the sails released and the ships, a.s.sisted by the flood tide, retreated northwards. The wind was weak and fickle, scarce enough to stir the fleet, so some smaller ships used their long ash oars to help their progress while others were towed by longboats.

The cannon on Cross Island were abandoned, but everything else was saved. All the rebel guns and supplies had been carried down the muddy track in the rainy dark, then rowed out to the transport ships, and now those ships edged northwards, northwards to the river narrows, and northwards to safety.

And behind them, between the transport ships and Sir George Collier's flotilla, the rebel warships cleared for action and spread slowly across the bay. If the transports were sheep then Saltonstall's warships were the dogs.

And the wolves were coming.

Redcoats gathered at Dyce's Head to watch the unfolding drama. Brigadier McLean's servant had thoughtfully brought a milking stool all the way to the bluff and McLean thanked the man and sat down to watch the unfolding battle. It would be a privileged view of a rare sight, McLean thought. Seventeen rebel warships waited for six Royal Navy vessels. Three British frigates led the way, while the big two-decker and the remaining two frigates came on more slowly. "I do believe that's the Blonde Blonde," McLean said, staring at the nearest frigate through his telescope. "It's our old friend Captain Barkley!" Off to McLean's right the nineteen rebel transports were inching northwards. From this distance it looked as if their sails hung limp and powerless, but minute by minute they drew further away.

The Blonde Blonde fired her bow-chasers. To the watchers ash.o.r.e it looked as if her bowsprit was blotted out by blossoming smoke. A moment later the sound of the two guns pounded the bluff. A pair of white fountains showed where the round shots had splashed well short of the fired her bow-chasers. To the watchers ash.o.r.e it looked as if her bowsprit was blotted out by blossoming smoke. A moment later the sound of the two guns pounded the bluff. A pair of white fountains showed where the round shots had splashed well short of the Warren, Warren, which lay at the center of the rebel line. The smoke thinned and drifted ahead of the British ships. which lay at the center of the rebel line. The smoke thinned and drifted ahead of the British ships.

"Look at that!" Lieutenant-Colonel Campbell exclaimed. He was pointing at the harbor mouth where Mowat's three sloops had appeared. They were kedging out of the harbor against the prevailing wind. Ever since he had heard that the rebels had abandoned the siege Mowat had been retrieving his ships' guns from their sh.o.r.e emplacements. His men had worked hard and fast, desperate to join the promised fight in the bay, and now, with their portside broadsides restored, the three sloops were on their way to join Sir George's flotilla. Longboats took turns to carry anchors far forrard of the sloops' bows, the anchors were dropped, then the sloops were hauled forward on the anchor rode as a second anchor was rowed still further ahead for the next leg of the journey. They leapfrogged anchor by anchor out of the harbor and the North North's pumps still clattered and spurted, and all three ships showed damage to their hulls from the long rebel bombardment, but their guns were loaded and their tired crews eager. The Blonde Blonde fired again, and once again the shots dropped short of the rebel ships. fired again, and once again the shots dropped short of the rebel ships.

"They do say," McLean remarked, "that firing the guns brings on the wind."

"I thought it was the other way round," Campbell said, "that gunfire stills the wind?"

"Well, it's one or the other," McLean said happily, "or maybe neither? But I do remember a nautical fellow a.s.suring me of it." And perhaps firing the two chasers on HMS Blonde Blonde had brought on a small wind because the British ships seemed to be making better speed as they approached the rebel fleet. "It will be b.l.o.o.d.y work," McLean said. The foremost three frigates would be far outgunned by the rebels, though the big had brought on a small wind because the British ships seemed to be making better speed as they approached the rebel fleet. "It will be b.l.o.o.d.y work," McLean said. The foremost three frigates would be far outgunned by the rebels, though the big Raisonable Raisonable was not that far behind and her ma.s.sive lower guns were sufficient to blow each of the rebel warships out of the water with a single broadside. Even the was not that far behind and her ma.s.sive lower guns were sufficient to blow each of the rebel warships out of the water with a single broadside. Even the Warren Warren, with her eighteen-pounders, would be far outmatched by the two-decker's thirty-two-pounders. "Mind you," McLean went on, "sailors do tell us the strangest things! I had a skipper on the Portugal run who swore blind the world was flat. He claimed to have seen the rainbows at its edge!"

"The fellow who took us to Halifax," Campbell said, "told us tales of mermaids. He said they flocked together like sheep, and that down in the southern seas it's t.i.ts and tails from horizon to horizon."

"Really?" Major Dunlop asked eagerly.

"That's what he said! t.i.ts and tails!"

"Dear me," McLean said, "I see I must sail south." He straightened on the stool, watching the three sloops. "Oh, well done, Mowat!" he said enthusiastically. The three sloops had laboriously used their anchors to haul themselves out of the harbor and now loosed their sails.

"And what does that signify?" Major Dunlop asked. His question had been prompted by a string of bright signal flags that had appeared at the Warren Warren's mizzen mast. The flags meant nothing to the watchers on the bluff who had now been joined by most of Majabigwaduce's inhabitants, curious to watch an event that would surely make their village famous.

"He's taking them into battle, I suppose," Campbell suggested.

"I suppose he must be," McLean agreed, though he did not see what the rebels could do other than what they were already doing. Commodore Saltonstall's seventeen ships were in a line with all their broadsides pointing at the oncoming ships, and that gave the rebels a huge advantage. They could shoot and shoot, secure in the knowledge that only the bow-chasers on the three leading frigates could return the fire. The Royal Navy, the brigadier thought, must take some grievous casualties before the big two-decker battleship could demolish the American defiance.

Except the Americans were not defiant. "What on earth?" McLean asked.

"Bless me," Campbell said, equally astonished.

Because the meaning of Saltonstall's signal was suddenly clear. There would be no fight, at least no fight of the commodore's making because, one by one, the rebel warships were turning away. They had loosed their sheets and were running before the small wind. Running northwards. Running away. Running for the safety of the river narrows.

Six ships and three sloops chased thirty-seven vessels.

All running away.

Three rebel ships decided to make a break for the open sea. The Hampden Hampden, with her twenty guns, was the largest, while the Hunter Hunter had eighteen guns and the had eighteen guns and the Defence Defence just fourteen. The commodore's orders had required every ship to do its best to evade the enemy, and so the three ships tacked westwards across the bay, aiming to take the less used western channel past Long Island and so downriver to the ocean, which lay twenty-six nautical miles to the south. The just fourteen. The commodore's orders had required every ship to do its best to evade the enemy, and so the three ships tacked westwards across the bay, aiming to take the less used western channel past Long Island and so downriver to the ocean, which lay twenty-six nautical miles to the south. The Hunter Hunter was a new ship and reputed to be the fastest sailor on the coast, while Nathan Brown, her captain, was a canny man who knew how to coax every last sc.r.a.p of speed from his ship's hull. There was precious little wind, not nearly as much as Brown would have liked, yet even so his sleek hull moved perceptibly faster than the was a new ship and reputed to be the fastest sailor on the coast, while Nathan Brown, her captain, was a canny man who knew how to coax every last sc.r.a.p of speed from his ship's hull. There was precious little wind, not nearly as much as Brown would have liked, yet even so his sleek hull moved perceptibly faster than the Hampden, Hampden, which, being larger, should have been the quicker vessel. which, being larger, should have been the quicker vessel.

Signal flags fluttered from a yardarm on HMS Raisonable Raisonable. For a time it was hard to tell what those flags portended, because nothing seemed to change in the British fleet, then Brown saw the two rearmost British frigates turn slowly westwards. "b.a.s.t.a.r.ds want a race," he said.

It was an unequal race. The two smaller rebel ships might be quick and nimble sailors, but they had the disadvantage of sailing closer to the wind and the two frigates easily closed the gap through which the rebels needed to tack. Two guns fired from HMS Galatea Galatea were warning enough. The shots were fired at long range, and both blew past the were warning enough. The shots were fired at long range, and both blew past the Defence Defence's bows, but the message of the two near misses was clear. Try to sail through the gap and your small ships will receive the full broadsides of two frigates, and to escape past those frigates the rebels needed to tack through the channel where the frigates waited. They would be forced to sail within pistol shot and John Edmunds, the Defence Defence's captain, had an image of his two masts falling, of his deck slicked with blood, and of his hull quivering under the relentlessly heavy blows. His guns were mere four-pounders and what could four-pounders do against a frigate's full broadside? He might as well throw bread crusts at the enemy. "But I'll be d.a.m.ned before the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds take my ship," he said.

He knew his attempt to sail the Defence Defence past the frigates had failed and so he let his brig's bows fall off the wind and then drove her, all sails standing, straight towards the Pen.o.bscot's western sh.o.r.e. "Joshua!" he called to the first mate. "We're going to burn her! Break open the powder barrels." past the frigates had failed and so he let his brig's bows fall off the wind and then drove her, all sails standing, straight towards the Pen.o.bscot's western sh.o.r.e. "Joshua!" he called to the first mate. "We're going to burn her! Break open the powder barrels."

The Defence Defence ran ash.o.r.e. Her masts bowed forrard as the bows grated on the shingle beach. Edmunds thought the masts would surely fall, but the backstays held and the sails slatted and banged on the yards. Edmunds took the flag from her stern and folded it. His crew was spilling powder and splashing oil on the decks. "Get ash.o.r.e, boys," Edmunds called, and he went forrard, past his useless guns, and paused in the bows. He wanted to weep. The ran ash.o.r.e. Her masts bowed forrard as the bows grated on the shingle beach. Edmunds thought the masts would surely fall, but the backstays held and the sails slatted and banged on the yards. Edmunds took the flag from her stern and folded it. His crew was spilling powder and splashing oil on the decks. "Get ash.o.r.e, boys," Edmunds called, and he went forrard, past his useless guns, and paused in the bows. He wanted to weep. The Defence Defence was a lovely ship. Her home was the open ocean where she should have been living up to her martial name by chasing down fat British merchantmen to make her owners rich, but instead she was caught in an enclosed seaway and it was time to bid her farewell. was a lovely ship. Her home was the open ocean where she should have been living up to her martial name by chasing down fat British merchantmen to make her owners rich, but instead she was caught in an enclosed seaway and it was time to bid her farewell.

He struck flint on steel and spilled the burning linen from his tinderbox onto a powder trail. Then he climbed over the gunwale and dropped down to the beach. His eyes were wet when he turned to watch his ship burn. It took a long time. There was more smoke than fire at first, but then the flames flickered up the tarred rigging and the sails caught the blaze, and the masts and yards were outlined by fire so that the Defence Defence looked like the devil's own vessel, a flame-rigged brigantine, a defiant fighting-ship sailing her way into h.e.l.l. "Oh G.o.d d.a.m.n the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds," Edmunds said, brokenhearted, "the sons of G.o.dd.a.m.ned b.i.t.c.h b.a.s.t.a.r.ds!" looked like the devil's own vessel, a flame-rigged brigantine, a defiant fighting-ship sailing her way into h.e.l.l. "Oh G.o.d d.a.m.n the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds," Edmunds said, brokenhearted, "the sons of G.o.dd.a.m.ned b.i.t.c.h b.a.s.t.a.r.ds!"

The Hunter Hunter sought shelter in a narrow cove. Nathan Brown, her skipper, ran her gently aground in the tight s.p.a.ce and ordered an anchor lowered and the sails furled and, once the ship was secure, he told his crew to find shelter ash.o.r.e. The sought shelter in a narrow cove. Nathan Brown, her skipper, ran her gently aground in the tight s.p.a.ce and ordered an anchor lowered and the sails furled and, once the ship was secure, he told his crew to find shelter ash.o.r.e. The Hunter Hunter might be a quick ship, but even she could not outsail the broadsides of the two enemy frigates, and her four-pounder cannon were no match for the British guns, yet Nathan Brown could not bring himself to burn the ship. It would have been like murdering his wife. The might be a quick ship, but even she could not outsail the broadsides of the two enemy frigates, and her four-pounder cannon were no match for the British guns, yet Nathan Brown could not bring himself to burn the ship. It would have been like murdering his wife. The Hunter Hunter had magic in her timbers, she was fast and nimble, a charmed ship, and Nathan Brown dared to hope that the British would ignore her. He prayed that the pursuers would continue north and that once the Royal Navy ships had pa.s.sed he might extricate the had magic in her timbers, she was fast and nimble, a charmed ship, and Nathan Brown dared to hope that the British would ignore her. He prayed that the pursuers would continue north and that once the Royal Navy ships had pa.s.sed he might extricate the Hunter Hunter from the narrow cove and sail her back to Boston, but that hope died when he saw two longboats crammed with sailors leave the British frigates. from the narrow cove and sail her back to Boston, but that hope died when he saw two longboats crammed with sailors leave the British frigates.

Brown had ordered his men ash.o.r.e in case the British tried to destroy the Hunter Hunter with cannon-fire, but now it seemed the enemy was intent on capture rather than destruction. The crowded longboats drew nearer. At least half the with cannon-fire, but now it seemed the enemy was intent on capture rather than destruction. The crowded longboats drew nearer. At least half the Hunter Hunter's crew of a hundred and thirty men were armed with muskets and they began shooting as the longboats approached the grounded ship. Water spouted around the oarsmen as musket b.a.l.l.s struck, and at least one British sailor was. .h.i.t and the boat's oars momentarily tangled, but then the longboats vanished behind the Hunter's Hunter's counter. A moment later the enemy sailors were aboard the ship and attaching towlines to her stern. The treacherous tide lifted her off the shingle and a strange flag, the hated flag, broke at her mizzen gaff's peak as she was towed back to the river. She was now His Majesty's ship, the counter. A moment later the enemy sailors were aboard the ship and attaching towlines to her stern. The treacherous tide lifted her off the shingle and a strange flag, the hated flag, broke at her mizzen gaff's peak as she was towed back to the river. She was now His Majesty's ship, the Hunter Hunter. Just to the south, hidden from Brown's crew by a shoulder of wooded land, the powder magazine in the Defence Defence exploded, sending a dark smoke cloud boiling above the land and a shower of burning timbers that fell to hiss in the bay and start small fires ash.o.r.e. exploded, sending a dark smoke cloud boiling above the land and a shower of burning timbers that fell to hiss in the bay and start small fires ash.o.r.e.

The Hampden Hampden was the largest of the three ships that tried to reach the sea, and she saw the fate of the was the largest of the three ships that tried to reach the sea, and she saw the fate of the Hunter Hunter and and Defence Defence and so her captain, t.i.tus Salter, turned back to make the safety of the river narrows. The and so her captain, t.i.tus Salter, turned back to make the safety of the river narrows. The Hampden Hampden had been donated by the State of New Hampshire and she was well-found, well-manned, and expensively equipped, yet she was not a fast sailor and late in the afternoon HMS had been donated by the State of New Hampshire and she was well-found, well-manned, and expensively equipped, yet she was not a fast sailor and late in the afternoon HMS Blonde Blonde came within range of her and opened fire. t.i.tus Salter turned the came within range of her and opened fire. t.i.tus Salter turned the Hampden Hampden so that her portside broadside of ten guns faced the enemy and he returned the fire. Six nine-pounder cannon and four six-pounders spat at the much larger so that her portside broadside of ten guns faced the enemy and he returned the fire. Six nine-pounder cannon and four six-pounders spat at the much larger Blonde, Blonde, which hammered back with twelve and eighteen-pounders. HMS which hammered back with twelve and eighteen-pounders. HMS Virginia Virginia came behind the came behind the Blonde Blonde and added her broadside. The guns boomed across the bay as dense smoke rose to shroud the lower rigging. Fire twisted from the cannon barrels. Men sweated and hauled on guns, they swabbed and rammed and ran the guns out and the gunners touched linstocks to portfires and the great guns leaped back and the round shot slammed remorselessly into the and added her broadside. The guns boomed across the bay as dense smoke rose to shroud the lower rigging. Fire twisted from the cannon barrels. Men sweated and hauled on guns, they swabbed and rammed and ran the guns out and the gunners touched linstocks to portfires and the great guns leaped back and the round shot slammed remorselessly into the Hampden Hampden's hull. The shots shattered the timbers and drove wicked-edged splinters into men's bodies. Blood spilled along the deck seams. Chain shot whistled in the smoke, severing shrouds, stays, and lines. The sails twitched and tore as bar shot shredded the canvas. The foremast went first, toppling across the Hampden Hampden's bows to smother ripped sails across the forrard cannon, but still the American flag flew and still the British pounded the smaller ship. The frigates drifted closer to their helpless prey. Their biggest guns were concentrated on the rebel hull and the smoke from their eighteen-pounders shrouded the Hampden Hampden. The rebel fire became slower and slower as men were killed or wounded. A rib cage, shattered by an eighteen-pounder shot, was scattered across the deck. A man's severed hand lay in the scuppers. A cabin boy was trying not to cry as a seaman tightened a tourniquet around his b.l.o.o.d.y, ragged thigh. The rest of his leg was ten feet away, reduced to a pulp by twelve pounds of round shot. Another eighteen-pounder ball hit a nine-pounder cannon and the noise, like a great bell, was heard on Majabigwaduce's distant bluff, and the barrel was struck clean off its carriage to fall onto a gunner who lay screaming, both legs crushed, and another ball slammed through the gunwale and struck the mainmast, which first swayed, then fell towards the stern, the sound splintering and creaking, stays and shrouds parting, men screaming a warning, and still the relentless shots came.

Fifteen minutes after the Blonde Blonde had begun the fight t.i.tus Salter ended it. He pulled down his flag and the guns went silent and the smoke drifted across the sun-dappled water and a prize crew came from the had begun the fight t.i.tus Salter ended it. He pulled down his flag and the guns went silent and the smoke drifted across the sun-dappled water and a prize crew came from the Blonde Blonde to board the to board the Hampden Hampden.

The remainder of the rebel fleet still sailed north.

Towards the river narrows.

The rebels had occupied no buildings in Majabigwaduce and Doctor Eliphalet Downer, the expedition's Surgeon General, had complained about keeping badly wounded men in makeshift shelters constructed from branches and sailcloth, and so the rebels had established their hospital in what remained of the buildings of Fort Pownall at Wasaumkeag Point, which lay some five miles upriver and on the opposite bank from Majabigwaduce. Now, as the guns boomed flat across the bay, Peleg Wadsworth took forty men to evacuate the patients to the sloop Sparrow Sparrow, which lay just offsh.o.r.e. The men, most with bandaged stumps, either walked or were carried on stretchers made from oars and coats. Doctor Downer stood next to Wadsworth and watched the distant frigates pound the Hampden Hampden. "So what now?" he asked bleakly.

"We go upriver," Wadsworth said.

"To the wilderness?"

"You take the Sparrow Sparrow as far north as you can," Wadsworth said, "and find a suitable house for the hospital." as far north as you can," Wadsworth said, "and find a suitable house for the hospital."

"These arrangements should have been made two weeks ago," Downer said angrily.

"I agree," Wadsworth said. He had tried to persuade Lovell to make those arrangements, but the general had regarded any preparations for a retreat as defeatism. "But they weren't made," he went on firmly, "so now we must all do the best we can." He turned and pointed at the small pasture. "Those cows must be slaughtered or driven away," he said.

"I'll make sure it's done," Downer said. The cows were there to give the patients fresh milk, but Wadsworth wanted to leave nothing that could be useful to the enemy. "So I become a herdsman and a slaughterer," Downer said bitterly, "then find a house upstream and wait for the British to find me?"

"It's my intention to make a stronghold," Wadsworth explained patiently, "and so keep the enemy to the lower river."

"If you're as successful at that as you've been at everything else in the last three weeks," Downer said vengefully, "we might as well all shoot ourselves now."

"Just obey orders, Doctor," Wadsworth said testily. He had s.n.a.t.c.hed a couple of hours' sleep as the Sally Sally drifted northwards, but he was tired. "I'm sorry," he apologized. drifted northwards, but he was tired. "I'm sorry," he apologized.

"I'll see you upriver," Downing said, his tone indicating regret for the words he had spoken before. "Go and do your work, General."

The transport ships were in the northern part of the bay now. Most had anch.o.r.ed during the ebb tide and now used the evening flood and the small wind to crawl towards the river narrows. James Fletcher had explained that the entrance to the narrows was marked by an obstacle, Odom's Ledge, that lay in the very center of the stream. There were navigable channels to either side of the rock, but the ledge itself was a ship-killer. "It'll rip the bottom out of a boat," James had told Wadsworth, "and the British won't try and get past in the dark. No one could try and pa.s.s Odom's in the dark."

Wadsworth was using the Sally Sally's longboat and he and Fletcher were being rowed northwards from Wasaumkeag Point. The oarsmen were silent, as were the enemy frigates' guns, which meant the Hampden Hampden was taken. Wadsworth turned to gaze at the view. It was a summer evening and he was in the middle of the largest fleet the rebels had ever gathered, a huge fleet, their sails beautifully catching the lowering sun, and they were all fleeing from the much smaller fleet. The rebel ships converged towards the ledge. The British frigates fired an occasional bow-chaser, the b.a.l.l.s splashing short of the rearmost rebels. The wolves were herding the sheep, Wadsworth thought bitterly, and the was taken. Wadsworth turned to gaze at the view. It was a summer evening and he was in the middle of the largest fleet the rebels had ever gathered, a huge fleet, their sails beautifully catching the lowering sun, and they were all fleeing from the much smaller fleet. The rebel ships converged towards the ledge. The British frigates fired an occasional bow-chaser, the b.a.l.l.s splashing short of the rearmost rebels. The wolves were herding the sheep, Wadsworth thought bitterly, and the Warren Warren, taller and more beautiful than all the surrounding vessels, was running like the rest when her duty, surely, was to turn and fight her way into legend.

"There's the Samuel Samuel, sir," James Fletcher pointed to the brig which had almost reached the narrows, entrance.

"Get me close to the Samuel Samuel," Wadsworth ordered the boatswain.

The brig was towing both Revere's barge and a flat-bottomed lighter. Wadsworth stood and cupped his hands as his longboat closed on the Samuel Samuel. "Is Colonel Revere on board?"

"I'm here," a voice boomed back.

"Keep rowing," Wadsworth said to the boatswain, then cupped his hands again. "Put a cannon on the lighter, Colonel!"

"You want what?"

Wadsworth spoke more distinctly. "Put a cannon on the lighter! I'll find a place to land it!" Revere shouted something back, but Wadsworth did not catch the words. "Did you hear me, Colonel?" he shouted.

"I heard you!"

"Put a cannon on the lighter! We need to get guns ash.o.r.e when we find a place to defend!"

Again Revere's answer was indistinct, but the longboat had now pa.s.sed the Samuel Samuel and Wadsworth was confident that Revere had understood his orders. He sat and watched the broken water above the ledge where the riverbanks, steep and tree-covered, narrowed abruptly. The tide was slackening and the hills robbed the small wind of much of its power. A schooner and a ship had anch.o.r.ed safely upstream of the ledge while, behind them, many of the other ships were still being towed by tired men in longboats. and Wadsworth was confident that Revere had understood his orders. He sat and watched the broken water above the ledge where the riverbanks, steep and tree-covered, narrowed abruptly. The tide was slackening and the hills robbed the small wind of much of its power. A schooner and a ship had anch.o.r.ed safely upstream of the ledge while, behind them, many of the other ships were still being towed by tired men in longboats.

"What we do," Wadsworth spoke to himself as much as to the men in his boat, "is discover a place we can defend." He had been told the river twisted and in his mind's eye was a sharp turn where he could land guns on the upstream bank. He would begin with one of Revere's cannon, because once that was emplaced it would mark the new rebel position and as the ships pa.s.sed upstream they could donate cannons, crewmen, and ammunition so that, by morning, Wadsworth would command a formidable battery of artillery that pointed directly downstream. The approaching British would be forced to sail straight at those guns. The river was far too narrow to allow them to turn and use their broadsides, so instead they must either sail into the furious bombardment or, much more likely, anchor and so refuse the offered fight. The rebel fleet could shelter behind the new fortress while the army could camp ash.o.r.e and recover its discipline. A road could be hacked westwards through the woods so that new men, new ammunition, and new guns could be brought to renew the a.s.sault on Majabigwaduce. As a child Wadsworth had loved the story of Robert the Bruce, the great Scottish hero who had been defeated by his English enemies and who had fled to a cave where he watched a spider try to make a web. The spider failed repeatedly, but repeatedly tried again until at last it was successful, and that spider's persistence had inspired the Bruce to try again and so achieve his great victory. So now the rebels must play the spider, and try again, and keep trying until at last the British were gone from Ma.s.sachusetts.

But as the crew rowed him steadily upstream, it seemed to Wadsworth that the river hardly twisted at all. An island, Orphan Island, divided the river into two channels and Odom's Ledge was in the navigable western branch. Once past Orphan Island the river's bends seemed gentle. The flooding tide helped the oarsmen. They were now far ahead of the ships, traveling in a summer's gentle evening up a swirling, silent river edged by tall, dark trees. "Where are these sharp bends?" Wadsworth asked James Fletcher nervously.

"Up ahead," James Fletcher said. The oar blades dipped, pulled, and dripped, and then, suddenly, there was the perfect place. Ahead of Wadsworth the river twisted abruptly to the east, making almost a right-angled bend, and the slope above the bend was steep enough to deter any attack, but not so steep that guns could not be placed there.

"What's this place called?" Wadsworth asked.

Fletcher shrugged. "The river bend?"

"It will have a name," Wadsworth said vehemently, "a name for the history books. Spider Bend."

"Spider?"

"It's an old story," Wadsworth said, but he did not elaborate. He had found the place to make his stand, and now he must gather troops, guns, and resolve. "Back down the river," he told the crew.

Because Peleg Wadsworth would fight back.

The rebel warships were faster than the transports and they gradually overhauled the slower vessels and pa.s.sed Odom's Ledge into the river narrows. All the warships and almost half of the transports pa.s.sed that bottleneck, but a dozen slower boats were still stranded in the bay, where the tide was slackening, the wind dying, and the enemy approaching. Every sailor knew that there was more wind at the top of a mast than at the bottom, and the masts of the British ships were taller than the transports' masts, and the frigates were flying all their topgallant sails and so had the benefit of what small breeze remained in the limpid evening. The sun was low now so that the frigates' hulls were in shadow, but their high sails reflected the bright sun. They crept northwards, ever closer to the transports crammed with men, guns, and supplies, and looming behind them, queen of the river, was the towering Raisonable Raisonable with her ma.s.sive cannon. with her ma.s.sive cannon.

Just short of Odom's Ledge, on the western bank, was a cove. It was called Mill Cove because a sawmill had been built where a stream emptied into the cove, though the mill was long gone now, leaving just a skeleton of rafters and a stone chimney overgrown with creepers. The dozen transports, almost becalmed and increasingly threatened by the frigates, turned towards the cove. They were being towed, but the river's current had now overpowered the last of the flood tide and they could not force their way through the narrow channels either side of the ledge and so they hauled themselves across the current to the shallow waters of Mill Cove and used the last of the wind to drive their bows ash.o.r.e. Men dropped over the gunwales. They carried their muskets and haversacks, they waded ash.o.r.e, they gathered disconsolate beside the mill's ruins and they watched their ships burn.

One by one the transports burst into flames. Each and every ship was valuable. The boat-builders of Ma.s.sachusetts were famous for their skills and it was said that a ship built in New England could outsail any vessel from the old world, and the British would love to capture these ships. They would be taken to Canada, or perhaps back to Britain, and the ships would be sold at auction and the prize money distributed among the sailors of the ships that had captured them. The warships might be purchased by the Admiralty, as the captured frigate Hanc.o.c.k Hanc.o.c.k had been bought, so the had been bought, so the Hampden Hampden would end its days as the HMS would end its days as the HMS Hampden Hampden and HMS and HMS Hunter Hunter would be using her New Englandgiven speed and her New England cast guns to chase smugglers in the English channel. would be using her New Englandgiven speed and her New England cast guns to chase smugglers in the English channel.

But now the American transport skippers would deny their enemies a similar victory. They would not yield their ships to a British prize court. Instead they burned the transports and the banks of Mill Cove flickered with the light of the flames. Two of the burning hulls drifted towards the river's center. Their sails and rigging and masts were alight. When a mainmast fell it was a curving collapse of bright fire, sparks exploding into the evening as the lines and yards and spars cascaded into the river.

And the fire did what the Warren Warren and the other warships had failed to do. It stopped the British. No captain would take his ship near a burning hull. Sails, tarred rigging, and wooden hulls were dangerously flammable and a wind-driven spark could turn one of His Majesty's proud ships into a charred wreck, and so the British fleet dropped anchor as the last of the evening wind died. and the other warships had failed to do. It stopped the British. No captain would take his ship near a burning hull. Sails, tarred rigging, and wooden hulls were dangerously flammable and a wind-driven spark could turn one of His Majesty's proud ships into a charred wreck, and so the British fleet dropped anchor as the last of the evening wind died.

Upstream, beyond Odom's Ledge, the rest of the rebel fleet struggled northwards until the current and the dying light forced them to anchor. At Mill Cove hundreds of men, with no orders and no officers confident of what should be done, started walking westwards. They headed across a wilderness towards their distant homes.

While in Fort George Brigadier-General Francis McLean raised a gla.s.s and smiled at the guests who had gathered about his table. "I give you the Royal Navy, gentlemen," he said, and his officers stood, lifted their gla.s.ses of wine and echoed the brigadier's toast. "The Royal Navy!"

From a letter by General Artemas Ward, commander of the Ma.s.sachusetts Militia, to Colonel Joseph Ward, September 8th, 1779: The commander of the fleet is cursed, bell, book, and candle. ... Lieutenant-Colonel Paul Revere is now under an arrest for disobedience of orders, and unsoldierlike behaviour tending to cowardice.

From Brigadier-General Solomon Lovell's journal, August 14th, 1779: The British Ships coming up the Soldiers were obliged to take to the Sh.o.r.e, and set fire to their Vessels, to attempt to give a description of this terrible Day is out of my Power it would be a fit Subject for some masterly hand to describe it in its true colors, to see four Ships pursuing seventeen Sail of Armed Vessells nine of which were stout Ships, Transports on fire, Men of War blowing up, Provision of all kinds, and every kind of Stores on Sh.o.r.e (at least in small Quant.i.ties) throwing about, and as much confusion as can possibly be conceived.

Excerpt from Brigadier-General Francis McLean's letter to Lord George Germaine, His Majesty's Secretary of State for the American Colonies, August 1779: It only remains for me to endeavor to do justice to the cheerfulness and spirit with which all ranks of our little garrison underwent the excessive fatigue required to render our post tenable. The work was carried on under the enemy's fire with a spirit that would have done credit to the oldest soldiers; from the time the enemy opened their trenches, the men's spirits increased daily, so that our last chief difficulty was in restraining them.

Chapter Fourteen

Peleg Wadsworth slept ash.o.r.e, or rather he lay awake on the river's bank and must have dozed, because he twice awoke with a start from vivid dreams. In one he was cornered by the Minotaur, which appeared with Solomon Lovell's head crowned with a pair of blood-dripping horns out of a nightmare. He finally sat with his back against a tree and a blanket about his shoulders, and watched the dark river swirl slow and silent towards the sea. To his left, to seaward, there was a glow in the sky and he knew that red light was cast by the ships still burning in Mill Cove. It looked like an angry dawn, and it filled him with an immense la.s.situde, so he closed his eyes and prayed to G.o.d that he was given the strength to do what was needed. There was still a fleet and an army to rescue, and an enemy yet to be defied, and long before first light he roused James Fletcher and his other companions. Those companions were now Johnny Feathers and seven of his Indians who possessed two birch-bark canoes. The canoes slipped through the water with much greater ease than the heavy longboats and the Indian had happily agreed to let Wadsworth use the canoes in his attempt to organize a defense. "We must go downriver," he told Feathers.