Part 14 (2/2)

”Take more than a round shot to put the major down, sir,” James Fletcher commented cheerfully. Fletcher was now attached to Wadsworth's staff as an unofficial aide and local guide.

”I must a.s.sume Littlefield decided not to land,” Wadsworth said.

”Hard to fight when you're wet as a drowned rat, sir.”

”True,” Wadsworth said with a smile, then consoled himself that the threat to the bluff appeared to have achieved its purpose, which was to prevent the British sending reinforcements or a counterattacking force to Cross Island.

The light faded fast. The eastern sky was already dark, though no stars yet showed, and the gunfire died with the day. The American wars.h.i.+ps sailed slowly back to their anchorage while Mowat's men, unscarred by the evening's duel, secured their guns. Wadsworth leaned on the Bethaiah Bethaiah's gunwale and looked down at the shadowy boats as they approached the sloop. ”Major Littlefield!” he hailed. ”Major Littlefield!” he called again.

”He's drowned, sir,” a voice called back.

”He's what?”

”He and two other men, sir. Lost, sir.”

”Oh, dear G.o.d,” Wadsworth said. On sh.o.r.e, at the top of the bluff, a fire showed through the trees. Someone brewing tea, maybe, or cooking a supper.

And Major Littlefield was dead.

”Tragic,” General Lovell said when Wadsworth told him the news of Daniel Littlefield's death, though Wadsworth was not entirely sure that his commanding officer had listened to what he said. Lovell, instead, was examining a British flag that had been brought on board the Sally Sally by a squat marine sergeant. ”Isn't it splendid!” Lovell exclaimed. ”We shall present it to the General Court, I think. A first trophy, Wadsworth!” by a squat marine sergeant. ”Isn't it splendid!” Lovell exclaimed. ”We shall present it to the General Court, I think. A first trophy, Wadsworth!”

”The first of many that your Excellency will send to Boston,” the Reverend Jonathan Murray observed.

”It's a gift from the marines,” the sergeant put in stolidly.

”So you said, so you said,” Lovell said with a hint of testiness, then he smiled, ”and you must render Captain Welch my sincerest grat.i.tude.” He glanced at the table which was covered with papers. ”Lift those doc.u.ments a moment, Marston,” he ordered his secretary and, when the table was clear of paper, ink, and pens, he spread the flag beneath the gently swinging lanterns. It was dark now, and the cabin was lit by four lanterns. ”'Pon my soul!”'Lovell stood back and admired the trophy'”but this will look impressive in Faneuil Hall!”

”You might think of sending it to Major Littlefield's wife,” Wadsworth said.

”To his wife?” Lovell asked, evidently puzzled by the suggestion. ”What on earth would she want with a flag?”

”A reminder of her husband's gallantry?”

”Oh, you'll write to her,” Lovell said, ”and a.s.sure her that Major Littlefield died for the cause of liberty, but I can't think that she needs an enemy flag. Really I can't. It must go to Boston.” He turned to the marine sergeant. ”Thank you, my fine fellow, thank you! I shall make certain the commodore knows of my approbation.”

Lovell had summoned his military family. John Marston, the secretary, was writing in the orderly book, Wadsworth was leafing through the militia rosters, while Lieutenant-Colonel Davis, the liaison officer for the transport s.h.i.+ps, was tallying the small craft available for a landing. The Reverend Murray was beaming helpfully, while Major Todd was cleaning a pistol with a sc.r.a.p of flannel. ”You did send my orders to the Artillery Regiment?” Lovell demanded of Todd.

”Indeed, sir,” Todd said, then blew on the pistol's frizzen to clear some dust.

”Colonel Revere understands the need for haste?”

”I made that need abundantly clear, sir,” Todd said patiently. Lieutenant-Colonel Revere had been commanded to take guns to the newly captured Cross Island, which would now be defended by a garrison of sailors from the Providence Providence and and Pallas Pallas under the command of Hoysteed Hacker. under the command of Hoysteed Hacker.

”So Colonel Revere's cannons should be active by dawn?” Lovell asked.

”I see no reason why not,” Wadsworth said.

”And that should dispose of the enemy s.h.i.+pping,” Lovell said happily, ”and so open the path to our success. Ah, Filmer! Thank you!”

Filmer, a servant, had brought supper of bacon, beans, and cornbread, which Lovell and his companions ate at the table where the captured flag made a convenient napkin for the general's greasy hands. ”The marines are back on their s.h.i.+ps?” Lovell asked.

”They are, sir,” Wadsworth answered.

”Though I suppose we must beg the commodore for their use again,” Lovell said resignedly.

”They are formidable,” Wadsworth said.

Lovell looked mischievous, a small half-smile on his usually solemn face. ”Did you hear that the naval officers sent the commodore a letter? Dear me! They chided him for not sailing into the harbor! Can you believe such a thing?”

”The letter shows admirable zeal, sir,” Wadsworth said evenly.

”And it must have caused him embarra.s.sment!” Lovell said, plainly pleased with that thought. ”Poor man,” he added dutifully, ”but perhaps the remonstrance will spur him to a greater effort?”

”One prays so,” the Reverend Murray said.

”Let us pray it doesn't make him more obstinate in his dealings,” Wadsworth said, ”especially as we shall need his marines when we attack in earnest.”

”I suppose we will need them,” Lovell said grudgingly, ”if the commodore is agreeable, of course.”

”It means using a dozen longboats to land all his marines,” Davis said, ”and we already lack sufficient boats.”

”I do dislike the idea of landing piecemeal,” Lovell said, evidently toying with the idea of attacking without the marines and so keeping all the glory of victory to the militia.

”Why not use one of the smaller schooners?” Wadsworth suggested. ”I've seen them being rowed. I'm sure we could take one close enough insh.o.r.e, and a schooner could carry at least a hundred men.”

Davis considered that solution, then nodded. ”The Rachel Rachel doesn't draw much,” he said. doesn't draw much,” he said.

”And we do need the marines,” Wadsworth said pointedly.

”I suppose we do, yes,” Lovell allowed. ”Well, we shall request their a.s.sistance.” He paused, tapping his knife against the pewter plate. ”When we capture the fort,” he said ruminatively, ”I don't want any redcoats escaping north across the isthmus. We should put a force to the north there? A blocking force?”

”Use the Indians?” Major Todd suggested, his spectacles reflecting the lantern-light. ”The British are scared of our savages.”

”They're much too valuable as fighters,” Wadsworth said hastily, ”I want them in the a.s.sault.”

”Valuable, maybe, when they're sober,” Major Todd said with a visible shudder, ”but they were inebriated again this morning.”

”The Indians?” Lovell asked. ”They were drunk?”

”Insensible, sir. The militiamen give them rum as an amus.e.m.e.nt.”

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