The Fort. Bernard Cornwell
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‘And how does that affect Colonel Revere’s absence?’ Saltonstall asked bluntly.
‘It,’ Lovell began and realized he had no idea what he could answer, and so he straightened and squared his shoulders. ‘We shall wait,’ he announced firmly.
‘We shall wait!’ Saltonstall called to his officers. He began pacing his quarter-deck again, starboard to larboard and larboard to starboard, occasionally shooting a malevolent look at Lovell as though the general were personally responsible for the missing officer. Lovell found the commodore’s hostility uncomfortable and so turned to stare at the fleet again. Many ships had loosed their topsails and men now scrambled along the yards to furl the canvas.
‘General Lovell?’ a new voice disturbed him and Lovell turned to see a tall marine officer whose sudden presence made the general take an involuntary step backwards. There was an intensity in the marine’s face, and a ferocity, that made the face formidable. Just to see this man was to be impressed. He was even taller than Lovell, who was not a short man, and he had broad shoulders that strained the green cloth of his uniform jacket. He was holding his hat respectfully, revealing black hair that was cropped short over most of his scalp, but that he had allowed to grow long at the back so he could wear a short pigtail that was hardened with tar. ‘My name is Welch, sir,’ the marine said in a voice deep enough to match his hard face, ‘Captain John Welch of the Continental Marines.’
‘I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Captain Welch,’ Lovell said, and that was true. If a man must sail into battle then he would pray to have a man like Welch at his side. The hilt of Welch’s sabre was worn down by use and, like its owner, seemed made for the efficient use of pure violence.
‘I’ve spoken to the commodore, sir,’ Welch said very formally, ‘and he gave his consent that my men should be at your disposal when not required for naval duties.’
‘That’s most encouraging,’ Lovell said.
‘Two hundred and twenty-seven marines, sir, fit for duty. Good men, sir.’
‘I’ve no doubt.’
‘Well-trained,’ Welch went on, his unblinking gaze fixed on Lovell’s eyes, ‘and well-disciplined.’
‘A most valuable addition to our force,’ Lovell said, unsure what else he could say.
‘I want to fight, sir,’ Welch said, as if he suspected Lovell might not use his marines.
‘I am confident the opportunity will come,’ Lovell said uneasily.
‘I hope so, sir,’ Welch said, then at last turned his gaze away from the general and nodded towards a fine-looking ship, the General Putnam, one of four privateers that had been commandeered by the Massachusetts Navy because their owners had baulked at volunteering their craft. The General Putnam carried twenty cannons, all of them nine-pounders, and she was reckoned one of the finest ships on the New England coast. ‘We put a score of marines on the Putnam, sir,’ Welch said, ‘and they’re led by Captain Carnes. You know him, sir?’
‘I know John Carnes,’ Lovell said, ‘he captains the Hector.’
‘This is his brother, sir, and a fine officer. He served under General Washington as a captain of artillery.’
‘A fine posting,’ Lovell said, ‘yet he left it for the marines?’
‘Captain Carnes prefers to see men up close as he kills them, sir,’ Welch said evenly, ‘but he knows his artillery, sir. He’s a very competent gunner.’
Lovell understood immediately that Saltonstall had despatched Welch with the news, implicitly suggesting that Colonel Revere could be left behind and replaced by Captain Carnes, and Lovell bristled at the suggestion. ‘We need Colonel Revere and his officers,’ he said.
‘I never suggested otherwise, sir,’ Welch said, ‘merely that Captain Carnes has an expertise that might be useful to you.’
Lovell felt acutely uncomfortable. He sensed that Welch had little faith in the militia and was trying to stiffen Lovell’s force with the professionalism of his marines, but Lovell was determined that Massachusetts should reap the credit for the expulsion of the British. ‘I’m sure Colonel Revere knows his business,’ Lovell said stoutly. Welch did not reply to that, but stared at Lovell who again felt disconcerted by the intensity of the gaze. ‘Of course, any advice Captain Carnes has … ’ Lovell said, and let his voice tail away.
‘I just wanted you to know we have an artilleryman in the marines, sir,’ Welch said, then stepped a pace back and offered Lovell a salute.
‘Thank you, Captain,’ Lovell said, and felt relieved when the huge marine strode away.
The minutes passed. The church clocks in Boston struck the hour, the quarters and then the hour again. Major William Todd, one of the expedition’s two brigade majors, brought the general a mug of tea. ‘Newly made in the galley, sir.’
‘Thank you.’
‘The leaves captured by the brig King-Killer, sir,’ Todd said, sipping his own tea.
‘It’s kind of the enemy to supply us with tea,’ Lovell said lightly.
‘Indeed it is, sir,’ Todd said and then, after a pause, ‘So Mister Revere is delaying us?’
Lovell knew of the antipathy between Todd and Revere and did his best to defuse whatever was in the major’s mind. Todd was a good man, meticulous and hard-working, but somewhat unbending. ‘I’m sure Lieutenant-Colonel Revere has very good cause to be absent,’ he said firmly.
‘He always does,’ Todd said. ‘In all the time he commanded Castle Island I doubt he spent a single night there. Mister Revere, sir, likes the comfort of his wife’s bed.’
‘Don’t we all?’
Todd brushed a speck of lint from his blue uniform coat. ‘He told General Wadsworth that he supplied rations for Major Fellows’ men.’
‘I’m certain he had cause for that.’
‘Fellows died of the fever last August,’ Todd then stepped a pace back in deference to the approach of the commodore.
Saltonstall glowered again at Lovell from beneath the peak of his cocked hat. ‘If your damned fellow isn’t coming,’ Saltonstall said, ‘then perhaps we might be allowed to get on with this damned war without him?’
‘I’m sure Colonel Revere will be here very soon,’ Lovell said emolliently, ‘or we shall receive news of him. A messenger has been sent ashore, Commodore.’
Saltonstall grunted and walked away. Major Todd frowned at the retreating commodore. ‘He takes after his mother’s side of the family, I think. The Saltonstalls are usually most agreeable folk.’
Lovell was saved from responding by a hail from the brig Diligent. Colonel Revere, it seemed, had been sighted. He and three other officers were being rowed in the smart white-painted barge that served Castle Island, and the sternsheets of the barge, which was being rowed by a dozen blue-shirted men, were heaped high with baggage. Colonel Revere sat just forrard of the baggage and, as the barge came close to the Warren on its way to the brig Samuel, Revere waved up at Lovell. ‘God speed us, General!’ he shouted.
‘Where have you been?’ Lovell called sharply.
‘A last night with the family, General!’ Revere shouted happily, and then was out of earshot.
‘A last night with the family?’ Todd asked in wonderment.
‘He must have misunderstood my orders,’ Lovell said uncomfortably.
‘I think you will discover, sir,’ Todd said, ‘that Colonel Revere misunderstands all orders that are not to his liking.’
‘He’s a patriot, Major,’ Lovell reproved, ‘a fine patriot!’
It took more time for the