Old Glory

by Christopher Nicole

  ‘Over a pack of merchantmen masquerading as sloops of war,’ Ezek Hopkins said. ‘What advantage will we gain from that?’

  ‘Well, sir, as to that,’ Paul pointed out, ‘what will our squadron be, but a pack of merchantmen masquerading as sloops of war? Besides, it is not the size of the ship or the weight of metal that matters at this moment. It is that we gain a victory. Morale is what counts in warfare, and morale is built upon victory.’

  ‘And of course,’ Ezek Hopkins said drily, ‘should we succeed in freeing Chesapeake Bay from the British, we also free Norfolk, and your remaining ship, and your warehouses, Captain Jones.’

  Paul flushed. ‘Indeed we do, sir. But that is not the reason I suggested such a campaign. We need room to manoeuvre. I am speaking of the colonies as a whole. We need firm bases from where to operate against the British trade routes. And what do we have? Boston is held by the British. New York has just fallen to them. We have Philadelphia, but here we are no doubt next on the British list for assault and capture. Let us regain control of Chesapeake Bay, seal the entrance with a battery of heavy guns — it can easily be done — and there we have a safe haven from where we can use our ships to their best advantage, as well as controlling a vast land area as well.’

  ‘That makes good sense,’ Biddle agreed. ‘You speak of abandoning New England altogether, sir,’ John Hopkins said, ‘for Virginia?’

  ‘For God’s sake, man,’ Paul shouted. ‘We are all in this together. If we pull back here, to secure there, it is with the object of regaining here, in the course of time.’

  ‘Time during which,’ Ezek Hopkins remarked, ‘our warehouses will be in the hands of the British while yours, entirely fortuitously, of course, will have been restored to you.’

  ‘Sir,’ Paul said, ‘this situation is too grave for me to take offence, or I would ram those words down your throat. You have been appointed commander of this fleet. I would but say that to whittle away our slender resources in tactical rather than strategical operations would be a grave mistake, and answerable to the American people.’

  ‘We shall not quarrel about it,’ John Hopkins said soothingly. ‘Is there any support for Captain Jones’ plan?’

  ‘Aye,’ Harry said.

  Biddle nodded, and Barry also said, ‘Aye.’ The brothers looked distinctly disconcerted. They had not expected to be so quickly and decisively outvoted. ‘Very well,’ John Hopkins said. ‘I will put the plan to Congress, and see whether or not they approve. Thank you, gentlemen.’

  *

  ‘Your health, Mr Bartlett,’ said Captain Lord Steyne. ‘And damnation to all His Majesty’s enemies.’

  ‘Oh, indeed,’ Josiah said. He was quite overawed. If he did indeed from time to time entertain the captains of His Majesty’s Ships to dinner, this was the first time the captain in question had turned out to be a lord. More, the man had come seeking him, above everyone else, on whom to pay this courtesy call, which had to be an immense honour in all the circumstances.

  ‘War is a peculiarly felicitous fate for mankind,’ Lord Steyne said. ‘Providing he is on the right side, of course, which means, the righteous side. Your name was given me as a man to visit, a man of parts, a man who not only whole-heartedly supports His Majesty, but indeed might be in a way of supplying some of our much needed requirements in food and clothing in these remote lands.’

  ‘My word,’ Josiah said. ‘Oh, yes, indeed. You have but to tell me what you require.’

  ‘Then we have a double reason to drink a toast. To you, as well, Mr Bartlett. Will you not join us, Miss Bartlett?’ the Captain invited, smiling at her.

  ‘I will drink a loyal toast, certainly, my lord,’ she agreed, and sipped her wine.

  ‘My daughter is still somewhat distressed, my lord,’ Josiah explained. ‘The man to whom she was betrothed to be married has turned out to be the most unmitigated scoundrel, and a republican to boot.’

  ‘Indeed?’ Lord Steyne inquired. ‘How very sad. But I’m afraid there are a great number of traitorous scoundrels about who have only recently been forced to reveal their true colours and accept the consequences. I am thinking of people like Messrs Moultrie and Browne. You will be pleased to know that they are safely under lock and key, Mr Bartlett, charged with at least incitement to riot.’

  ‘Oh, indeed, that is nothing more than they deserve,’ Josiah agreed.

  ‘Now tell me of this scoundrel who has betrayed your daughter. Where is he now?’

  ‘Who knows,’ Elizabeth said. ‘You sank his ship, two days ago.’

  Steyne raised his eyebrows. ‘The Carolina Wind? You were not betrothed to Harry McGann, Miss Bartlett?’

  ‘I was, sir.’

  ‘Good God! If you will pardon me, Miss. But surely you were not aware that the man is a deserter from the Royal Navy?’

  ‘A deserter?’ Elizabeth cried.

  ‘By God!’ Josiah remarked.

  ‘Which is but one of the crimes laid at his door,’ Steyne said. ‘Although it will be the one I shall hang him for when I lay my hands upon him. Alas, those of his crew we have taken claim the captain was not on board when the ship was sunk.’

  ‘He was not, sir,’ Josiah said. ‘He escaped into the woods.’

  Steyne nodded. ‘Committing mayhem on the way, I understand. Well, he can do no harm to anyone in the woods, and perhaps the Indians will make an end of him. Come, come, Miss Bartlett, I understand your feelings, believe me. To have been hoodwinked by such an abandoned rogue must be deeply humiliating for you.’

  Elizabeth gazed at him. He was a handsome man, in a florid manner, although he was certainly at least fifteen years older than herself. ‘He was a rare man, my lord,’ she said. ‘Whatever his crimes.’

  ‘So I have heard,’ Steyne agreed. ‘From various quarters. You will understand that he is now also wanted for the murder of Black Jack O’Hare?’

  ‘I understood that O’Hare had a weapon in his hand, my lord, when he was cut down, and that he fired upon Harry … Captain McGann, before Captain McGann had drawn.’

  ‘That may be, but he was killed in the act of carrying out a citizen’s arrest on a known felon. That is always murder. It really will be a problem to decide which of his crimes he shall answer for first, as they are all punishable by hanging, to be sure. But we will work it out. Miss Bartlett, I have said that I understand your feelings and grieve for you. But surely your only course is to forget this rascal, and as rapidly as possible. Miss Bartlett, I would take it most kindly if you, and your father, of course, would dine with me on board Antelope tomorrow evening’

  Elizabeth got up and walked to the window to look out at the front garden, and the path, and the gate. The gate was where she had pledged her love for Harry McGann, where she would have given him anything he wanted, and where he had so gallantly treated her with honour. She could not now brush aside that love as she might swot a mosquito. She loved. And he had turned out to be unworthy of her love. Not true. He had revealed too much of a mind of his own. But had he not always revealed that, and she known it, from the moment of their first meeting?

  And now it was over. The Captain was right about that. Harry had to be in the past, forever. Not because he had killed a man, and not even, she knew, because he had proved a traitor. Because she had always known he had both those possibilities in him, even as a boy. The reason was because she, in her foolish innocence, had supposed that his love for her would triumph over his politics and even his temper — and she had been wrong. They would never meet again. And she must feel the same. She simply had to forget him, and as rapidly as possible.

  ‘I am sure it would be a great pleasure,’ Josiah was saying eagerly.

  Elizabeth turned back to the room. ‘Indeed it would, my lord,’ she said, ‘be our very great pleasure to dine with you, on board HMS Antelope.’

  *

  ‘A sad situation.’ John Paul Jones stretched out on his bunk in the cabin of the Alfred. He was bored, but then so was everyone else in the flee
t bored; they had sat there now for a month and more. ‘Oh, I do not quarrel with the decision of the minutemen to fight. But it would have made more sense to plan the occasion, give us all time to prepare, and be ready to strike as one, as it were. As it is, we are caught with our several breeches about our ankles. The first I knew of what was happening was when a British sloop entered Norfolk and trained its guns on the port.’

  ‘Aye, well, my first intimation of the situation was when I landed in New York,’ Harry said. ‘And to my everlasting shame I wasted the time trying to get Elizabeth to come with me, instead of immediately putting out. As a result, the Carolina Wind was sent to the bottom. God, to think of those men, Tobias …’ he shook his head. ‘Their deaths will always hang heavy on my conscience.’

  ‘There is no room for conscience in warfare, Harry,’ Paul said. ‘Fate, fortune, call it what you will, decreed that you should be ashore when the fatal shots were fired. Then you fought your way to freedom instead of surrendering. No man could do more. And I for one am only happy that you escaped. Figure this, Harry: if you had taken your ship to sea, where would you then have gone? Would it not have been back to Norfolk? Straight into the arms of the British, and probably a hanging. Oh, I grieve for Tobias and the others. I grieve for you, at having lost Lizzie Bartlett. But there is no room for love and romance in war, either. Now we must fight, and we must win, or we are all dead men. And what do we fight with? Or rather, who? I will tell you straight, I have no faith in Ezek Hopkins. Or his brother.’

  ‘Yet must we serve under them,’ Harry pointed out.

  ‘Oh, aye, that we must. For as long as Congress says we must. Come,’ he shouted, as there was a knock on the door.

  The Mate, Jonathan Sears, entered with a satchel. ‘Despatches from the Commodore, Captain.’

  ‘Despatches. Commodore,’ Paul said. ‘This fleet will sink beneath a sea of irrelevant titles if we are not careful.’ He slit the envelope addressed to him. ‘A commission, by God! From Congress! At last! A …’ he frowned as he read what it contained. ‘I wonder I truly do not ram this down his throat.’

  ‘What is it?’ Harry asked, slowly slitting the envelope addressed to him.

  ‘I am commissioned First Lieutenant in the Continental Navy,’ Paul said bitterly. ‘First Lieutenant, by God! And I have logged more sea miles than any man in these colonies. First Lieutenant … ha.’ He had read further. ‘There is generosity. I am appointed to the command of the Alfred. Will you believe that, Harry? I am graciously appointed to the captaincy of my own ship. I should pen that fool a letter of the most abject thanks, before I tear his head from his shoulders.’

  ‘Aye,’ Harry said. ‘’Tis to be hoped it is all a formality.’ He sighed as he read his own commission; but what had he expected?

  ‘And you?’ Jones asked.

  ‘I am commissioned Second Lieutenant.’

  ‘Second … now that is going too far.’

  ‘Approved by Congress, John.’

  ‘God, how it makes me boil. Well, you’ll sail as First Mate on this ship.’

  ‘I am appointed to the Andrew Doria, Captain Biddle.’

  ‘Captain? Did you say Captain Biddle?’

  ‘That is what it says here.’

  ‘By God, I’ll not stand for it. That boy!’

  ‘He is my age, I believe,’ Harry pointed out. ‘But hardly of your experience.’

  ‘Now come, John, he did serve in the Navy.’

  ‘Did you not?’

  ‘I served before the mast. He was a midshipman.’

  ‘And that makes him your superior? Or mine?’ Jones leapt up and banged his head. ‘I’ll not … well, sir?’ Sears was back.

  ‘With respect, Captain Jones, there is a gentleman here to speak with you.’

  ‘A gentleman? A gentleman? Oh, show him in. If he is from Congress, I’ll tell him a thing or two, I’ll swear to that, Harry.’ He glared at the little, and remarkably young man who stood in the doorway. ‘Well, sir? Well? What is your business?’

  ‘I seek Captain Paul Jones,’ the young man said, nervously.

  ‘I am he. But you must be careful not to give me more than my due,’ Jones said in disgust. ‘I am Lieutenant Jones, as of this moment, having been a captain for the past five years.’ The young man looked more nervous than ever. ‘David Bushnell, at your service, sir.’

  ‘Are you, sir?’ Jones barked. ‘Are you?’

  ‘Let the fellow have his say, John,’ Harry said, also getting up, shoulders carefully stooped to avoid a bang on the head himself. ‘Harry McGann, Mr Bushnell.’

  ‘I have heard of you, Captain McGann. It is a great pleasure to shake your hand.’

  ‘As with me, Mr Bushnell. But Lieutenant is my rank also.’

  ‘You are both captains to me, gentlemen,’ Bushnell said, and laid his satchel on the table. ‘We are republicans?’

  ‘We are against the King, at any rate,’ Paul Jones said.

  ‘And therefore seek to defeat him,’ Bushnell said eagerly.

  ‘That is our intention.’

  ‘Well, gentlemen, I know how it can be done.’ Paul Jones gazed at him, then sat down again, and gestured him to a seat as well. ‘You hold my interest, Mr Bushnell. Pray continue.’

  ‘Well, sir …’ Bushnell leaned forward, white fingers tight against each other. ‘The sea, Captain Jones. There is the secret. King George must send men, and munitions, across the ocean, if he is to coerce us back into slavery.’

  ‘That’s no secret,’ Jones remarked. ‘Therefore, sir, you will agree that if we can drive the Royal Navy from the sea, we must win this struggle.’

  ‘Oh, indeed. I have made that point often enough. There is the slight question of how, unfortunately. Great Britain disposes of more than a hundred line of battle ships, and twice that number of frigates. We have six converted merchantmen. We are not in a position even to oppose the Antelope frigate that lies at anchor in New York at this moment; she’d blow us out of the water before we could close the range to fire a shot.’

  ‘Oh, quite, sir, quite,’ Bushnell agreed. ‘Therefore it is my proposal that we begin by disposing of her, and thus free New York from tyranny.’

  ‘Disposing of her?’ Harry asked.

  Jones scratched his head.

  ‘Well, Captain McGann,’ Bushnell said. ‘Would you not agree that New York Harbour in the possession of Congress would prove of inestimable value to our cause?’

  ‘I would agree with that probably more than any man in America,’ Harry said. ‘But … dispose of a frigate? I am not sure we understand your meaning.’

  ‘I mean to sink her, sir.’

  Jones looked at Harry, and suppressed a smile. ‘Are we allowed to inquire how this is to be accomplished, Mr Bushnell? Manhattan Island is also held by the British, as I understand it. Even were it not, the frigate could only be assailed by heavy guns emplanted on the shore, and there are no heavy cannon in that vicinity. Even supposing that were such weapons available, the frigate would merely up anchor and sail out of range, and continue to blockade the port.’

  ‘Ah, sir, there is certainly the point. She must not be allowed to leave. No, indeed. She must be sunk right where she lies, as a warning to all other Navy ships, that they too will be destroyed if they moor themselves in our waters.’

  ‘Of course,’ Jones said, once again gazing at Harry, and clearly now coming to the conclusion that he was dealing with a madman. ‘Nothing is more certain.’

  Bushnell ignored the sarcasm, and began spreading plans and drawings taken from his satchel, on the cabin table. ‘I call my invention a submersible, but no doubt a more apt name can be found for it.’

  Harry leaned over his shoulder, looked at what seemed to be a large coffin, but tapered rather than square-edged, and covered with odd looking protuberances. ‘What does it do?’ he asked.

  ‘Why, Captain McGann, it submerges.’

  ‘You mean it sinks,’ Jones remarked. ‘Yes, I can well see that it would.’ />
  ‘Only so far as its crew require, sir,’ Bushnell explained. ‘The seams are all thoroughly caulked. But you see these two tanks, sir, holding chambers they are, one on each side, and in no way connected to the body of the vessel as regards air. There is a valve on each, you see …’ He tapped the plan. ‘And when it is opened, these tanks will fill with water and the vessel will submerge. Not sink, Captain Jones. Submerge. Then there is a pump attached to each one as well. Thus the water can be emptied back out, whereupon the vessel will regain her buoyancy and rise to the surface again.’

  ‘My God,’ Harry said. ‘Ingenious.’

  ‘If it works,’ Paul remarked.

  ‘It works, Captain Jones. I have tested it myself.’

  ‘You have submerged yourself in that thing?’

  ‘Indeed, sir, with no problem at all. You see this duct here? This will reach the surface when the vessel lies just beneath the waves, and provides air for the crew. He propels the vessel by using these footpumps here, which turn these exterior paddle wheels. Oh, it is not a fast boat, but it moves sufficient for its purpose.’

  ‘Yes, but what is its purpose?’ Harry pressed him.

  ‘Well, sir, if the forward part of the vessel is filled with explosive, she can then be manoeuvred beneath and attached to the hull of the vessel to be destroyed, all without the crew of the doomed ship being aware of her presence at all. A fuse is set, a slow match ignited, and the crew — the entire operation will require but a single man, and indeed there is no room for more — opens this side hatch here and swims to safety. A few minutes later the charge explodes, blowing the bottom out of its target. In fifteen feet of water there is no ship afloat, not even a hundred gunner, could withstand the charge, or continue to float with its bottom torn apart.’

  ‘My God,’ Harry said again.

  ‘I knew you would appreciate the importance of the concept, sir. With a fleet of my submersibles we could make every harbour in North America unsafe for Navy ships. I must say, gentlemen, it is a rare treat to speak with men who understand what I propose to do, and appreciate its worth. The Hopkins brothers were quite unable to grasp the essentials. Or the possible prizes to be gained.’