For Love of Country (39 page)

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Authors: William C. Hammond

BOOK: For Love of Country
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“Likewise, Richard,” Agreen replied. “And I'm glad t' see you haven't lost your taste for beautiful women. Can't wait t' hear
this
story. Now, then, t' answer your question, those Frogs know what we're about. Before you arrived, the arms of that semaphore were movin' around like an old hag givin' her husband what-for. Whatever the message was, it hardly matters now. Whoever was chasin' you has arrived. I saw them ridin' south toward the fort.”
“I saw them too. There's nothing for it but to wait and see what happens. Unless you have a better suggestion.”
“We could run out our guns,” Agreen offered, “an' scare the livin' shit out of 'em.”
“We could,” Richard acknowledged, “though I doubt that's the choice I'll make.” His expression turned sober when he thought he detected movement on the fort's parapets and below at openings cut out of the stone façade near sea level. Cannon positioned on that lowest tier could prevent even the smallest vessel from stealing in or out of the harbor beneath the arc of those placed higher up.
Richard cupped his hands to his mouth and looked up. “Anything to report, Cates?”
“They're running out their guns, sir,” Cates shouted down.
“Damn,” Agreen cursed under his breath.
“What else would you expect, Agee?” Richard pointed to the flag fluttering above the fort. “See that? That's the Bourbon flag. King Louis' flag. They may run out their guns, but would the French Royal Army fire on an American vessel?”
“You bet your life,” Agreen remarked as a puff of smoke issued from one of the cannon ports, “because that's exactly what they're doin'.”
The roar of a cannon resounded throughout the estuary, sending scores of gulls and terns screeching into the air in protest. Orange flame belched from the massive black muzzle of a cannon protruding through merlons on the battlements. Twenty yards ahead, off to the left near the opposite shore, a menacing plume of water spewed up.
“A warning shot, Agee? Perhaps, but I'm not so sure,” Richard said, answering his own question. He walked aft along the starboard rail until he had Micah Lamont in sight.
“Steady as she goes, Mr. Lamont,” he shouted the order.
“Steady as she goes, aye, Captain,” Lamont shouted back.
They were close up to the fort now, no need for a spyglass to scrutinize details or movement ashore. As Richard's gaze swept the embankment, he saw the seven militia soldiers who had pursued the coach,
standing on foot now, outside the north-facing wall of the fort. They were watching
Falcon
's progress, though the massive fortress wall was about to obstruct their view. Why, he wondered, had they not been allowed inside the fort? He had a hunch, and he was playing that hunch for all it was worth.
His speculations ended with the deafening blast of a cannonade. Instinctively he grabbed for the railing, bracing himself against an impact that could reduce his ship to driftwood within seconds. But . . . no. The waters ahead were roiled into white spume, but not one ball had landed near
Falcon.
A glimpse ashore confirmed from vanishing clouds of acrid smoke that the shots had been fired from cannon placed on the three tiers farthest away from them, at the southern edge of the wall. The cannon closest to them, and now bearing on them, had remained silent.
“Richard,” Agreen barely managed to ask, “are you thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?”
“I dare not think,” Richard said.
Just then, another series of ear-splitting explosions rocked their senses. Cannon shot whined and shrieked overhead like demonic prehistoric birds swooping in on a defenseless prey. Again Richard seized the railing, but this time he glanced ashore as he did so. To his extreme satisfaction, he noted that the shots fired came from the highest tier of cannon, too high to have an impact on so small a vessel as a schooner sailing so close to shore. The shot lobbed over them fell harmlessly far off to larboard.
“We're through,” Agreen breathed moments later. And they were. With her sails full in the stiff breeze,
Falcon
lunged out of the estuary into the mildly choppy waters of the Bay of Biscay. White froth spewed from her yellow stem.
“Mr. Lamont,” Richard shouted aft. “Fall off two points and round the island to southward.”
That decision, he realized, would bring them close to the French frigate, which was now standing some distance away to southward of the entrance to the Lorient estuary. But to round the Île de Groix to northward would bring
Falcon
into range of the fort's south-facing cannon. Despite what had just happened, dealing with a frigate seemed preferable to again challenging the proclivities of the soldiers stationed within the fort. At least with a frigate, seamanship might play a hand.
Falcon
was a fast vessel, though slowed a knot or two by the gig trolling in her wake.
“Remember the charts of this area?” Agreen cautioned. “Off the south end of that island there's a mess of reefs and shoals.”
“I remember, Agee. It's why we're falling off. We could use the tops'ls on this tack had we time to set them, but we don't. We have to round the island ahead of that frigate. Ship to ship, in a race, we'll show her our heels. And I'd wager that frigate captain has orders to remain inshore, on station. She won't pursue us for long into the Atlantic.”
Richard walked aft to the helm, never taking his eyes off the French warship bearing down on them to larboard. As Cates had reported, she had hauled her wind and was giving chase.
Richard squinted through a long glass. He could clearly see the press of sails but could not make out, at this distance, much about her hull or deck.
“Deck, there!” Cates yelled from above. “Shoals ahead, to starboard!”
Richard cursed under his breath. The damned shoals extended farther out from the island than he had calculated. He had no choice. He had to fall off further, toward the frigate. Whatever the French navy had in mind for them, what the reefs and shoals had in store was not in question.
“Bring her off another point, Mr. Lamont.”
“Another point, aye, Captain. New course: southwest by south, a half south.”
Agreen joined them by the helm. “Damn, Richard,” he said, his gaze following the frigate closing in fast off to larboard. “For a rube from Maine, this here's a little too much excitement for one day.”
“I have to agree, Agee,” Richard replied, squinting through the glass. “But stay with me. The excitement will be over, one way or another, in a few minutes.”
“I'll stay. Where else would I go?”
Just then, a hundred yards away across a white-capped span of seawater, the frigate veered off the wind to present her starboard battery.
“Captain!” came the cry from above.
“I see it, Cates,” Richard shouted up. He held the glass on the frigate as he held his breath. When he focused the lens, his head jerked back at what he saw. He brought the glass down to chest level, stared out at the frigate with his naked eye, then brought the glass up again. “I'll be goddamned,” he exulted. He handed Agreen the glass. “Her ports are closed, Agee. Have a look.”
Agreen looked. A gun roared. And another. And then a third, in perfect sequence. Three discharges, yet nary a trace of smoke swept across her deck, as should have been the case with the wind on her starboard beam. What smoke there was flew off quickly from the larboard side.
“Sweet Jesus,” Agreen breathed when he realized the implication. “That frigate just
saluted
us!”
Richard bowed his head and gripped the larboard railing with such intensity that the sunburned skin on his hands turned pale. For long moments he could not speak. A full minute passed before the naval commander in him finally took control.
“Dip our ensign in reply, Agee. It's the least we can do. Mr. Lamont, bring her up full and by once we've cleared the shoals.”
“Where are you going, Richard?” Agreen asked after Lamont had repeated the order.
“Below. To see our passengers. I'm bunking with you on this cruise, you lucky devil. Though I doubt I'll see much of you. You'll be too busy reading.”
“Reading what? A letter?” Agreen inquired eagerly. “Lizzy sent me a letter?”
“Not
a
letter. A sack full of letters. Enough to sink us if we're not careful.” He disappeared down the after hatchway. At the doorway to his cabin, he knocked softly.

Entrez,
” a tentative voice called out.
Richard opened the door. Ducking his head, he stepped inside and removed his tricorne hat. Anne-Marie was sitting on the edge of his bunk with her arms gathered protectively around her children. They had been crying but, disciplined aristocrats that they were, had composed themselves to an admirable degree by the time he entered. Gertrud sat nearby on a chair by the writing desk, white-knuckled hands clutching its armrests.
“Richard . . . ?”
“It's alright, Anne-Marie. The danger has passed. Our next port of call is Boston, three weeks from now. Sooner, if this wind holds.”
“God be praised,” Gertrud murmured. She crossed herself repeatedly.
“I'll have some extra bunks brought in for Gertrud and your daughters. It'll be cramped in here, and the food served by the ship's cook is hardly royal fare. But it's what we have and it will see us home.”
Anne-Marie released her daughters and walked toward Richard, steadying herself against the rhythmic sway of the schooner. Her lips
were trembling; her eyes were bloodshot from fatigue and worry; her hair had come undone in places, and long ebony strands hung in disorderly fashion upon her shoulders. Still, to Richard's mind, she remained a figure of astounding grace and composure.
She stopped short of him, took his hands in hers. “Richard . . . my dear . . . I fear you have burdened me with a debt I can never repay. How can I ever thank you for what you have done for me and my family?”
He squeezed her hands.
“You can thank me by loving my family in return, Anne-Marie. And by loving my country. You'll see. A new and wonderful life awaits you in America.”
Glossary
aback
A sail is aback when it is pressed against the mast by a headwind.
abaft
Toward the stern of a ship. Used relatively, as in “abaft the beam” of a vessel.
able seaman
A general term for a sailor with considerable experience in performing the basic tasks of sailing a ship.
after cabin
The cabin in the after part of the ship used by the captain, commodore, or admiral.
aide-de-camp
An officer acting as a confidential assistant to a senior officer.
alee
or
leeward
On or toward the sheltered side of a ship; away from the wind.
amidships
In or toward the middle of a vessel.
athwart ship
Across from side to side, transversely.
 
back
To turn a sail or a yard so that the wind blows directly on the front of a sail, thus slowing the ship's forward motion.
back and fill
To go backward and forward.
backstay
A long rope that supports a mast and counters forward pull.
ballast
Any heavy material placed in a ship's hold to improve her stability, such as pig iron, gravel, stones, or lead.
Barbary States
Morocco, Algiers, Tunis, and Tripoli. All except Morocco were under the nominal rule of the Ottoman sultan in Constantinople.
bark
or
barque
A three-masted vessel with the foremast and mainmast square-rigged, and the mizzenmast fore-and-aft rigged.
bar-shot
Shot consisting of two half cannonballs joined by an iron bar, used to damage the masts and rigging of enemy vessels.
before the mast
Term describing common sailors, who were berthed in the forecastle, forward of the foremast.
before the wind
Said of a ship sailing with the wind directly astern.
belay
To secure a running rope used to work the sails. Also, to disregard, as in “Belay that last order.”
belaying pin
A fixed pin used onboard ship to secure a rope fastened around it.
bend
To make fast. To bend on a sail means to make it fast to a yard or stay.
binnacle
A box that houses the compass, found on the deck of a ship near the helm.
boatswain
or
bosun
A petty officer in charge of a ship's equipment and crew.
bollard
A short post on a ship or quay for securing a rope.
bowsprit
A spar running out from the bow of a ship to which the forestays are fastened.
brace
A rope attached to the end of a yard, used to swing or trim the sail. To “brace up” means to bring the yards closer to fore-and-aft by hauling on the lee braces.
brig
A two-masted, square-rigged vessel having an additional fore-and-aft sail on the gaff and a boom on her mainmast.
Bristol fashion
Shipshape.
buntline
A line for restraining the loose center of a furled sail.
burgoo
A thick porridge.
burnoose
or
burnous
A long, loose hooded cloak worn by Arabs.
by the wind
As close as possible to the direction from which the wind is blowing.
 
 
cable
A strong, thick rope to which the ship's anchor is fastened. Also a unit of measure equaling approximately one-tenth of a sea mile, or two hundred yards.

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