Characters Mentioned
Adams, Samuel – Continental Congress delegate. Leader of the rebel patriots of Massachusetts
Gage, General Thomas – military governor and commanding general of British forces stationed in Boston
Hancock, John – Rich Boston merchant. Continental Congress delegate
Howe, Corporal John – servant of Captain Browne. Spy
Leslie, Colonel Alexander – In command of British troops sent to Salem to remove rebel cannons
Mitchell, Major Edward – 10the Regiment. In command of a body of officers assigned to intercept express riders prior to the raid upon Concord
Percy, Lieutenant Colonel Hugh Earl – commander of the First Brigade, in charge of the relief column that rescued Colonel Smith’s forces
Pitcarin, Major John – commander of the Marines. Second in command of the forces sent to
Concord
Smith, Lieutenant Colonel Francis – commander of the 10th Regiment, in charge of the expedition sent to Concord to seize rebel stores
Chapter 5, “Officers’ Company,” Section 2
“This past winter Providence has treated us kindly,” General Gage resumed. “The Charles River has not frozen, despite the one recent storm.” Reaching back, he located his wineglass. “It has always frozen. But for our good fortune, their militia companies could easily have laid a siege upon us. Even so, providing our soldiers their necessities has been a trying enterprise, I need not inform you!” His eyes studied each attentive face.
“But, sir,” Mitchell declared, “the time has arrived to take precipitous action!”
“No, Major, it has not!”
Mitchell’s face darkened. He glared.
Again, sound and movement ceased.
"Perhaps, Major, …” -- General Gage's face softened -- “I have misconstrued your meaning.”
Pitcairn flexed his right wrist.
“Immediate action without prerequisite planning, no. Never. But I do agree with you that we must act, soon, decisively. Not to be found wanting, as at Salem.”
The name of that northern town prompted comments Howe had heard in Wright tavern. Colonel Leslie’s soldiers had been sent to Salem to seize cannon, not one shot had been fired, and the regulars had returned to their ship empty handed.
Major Mitchell nodded. Ever so slightly he bowed. Eyes fixed, he returned to the liquor table.
“Your Lordship,” the General said. “As military governor I have avoided provocation.” He turned. “I believe, gentlemen, in the rule of law. I subscribe to the belief that all people are entitled to enjoy basic common rights without molestation. But, gentlemen. Instead of being accorded reciprocal accommodation, and reasoned discourse, I have been practiced upon! My orders that our soldiers treat the inhabitants on all occasions with lenity, with justice, have invited grievous impudence, abhorrent licentiousness, vicious enmity. Their provocations have forced me to confiscate stored munitions and powder. Samuel Adams and his associates have capitalized, spreading forth amongst the populace the grossest absurdities and forgeries!” Again, Gage felt for his wineglass. Grasping it, he said, “I must therefore engage these people militarily. London and present circumstance demand it! Gentlemen!” he exclaimed. “With careful planning and modest expectation, we may yet achieve what my successors, I fear, with brash procedure would fail to accomplish!”
“Sir.” Heads turned toward Mitchell. “One good push by His Majesty’s foot and the scoundrels will flee!”
“Pray that it be so, Major. I am inclined to believe you. But I am not entirely convinced.”
“Sir! They would not do otherwise, I say!”
Gage stiffened.
“Ah, but to run our steel blades through their bloody throats!” Mitchell was up on the balls of his feet. “Our fighting men crave it! I and every officer I know yearn for it!”
Gage waited five seconds. “What you presume, Major, about the provincial’s deficient fighting prowess,” he said, evenly, “you and they will have the opportunity to corroborate. How and where? This young man's opinion, factored with the recommendations of others, will assist me in making that determination. Corporal Howe.” Gage pivoted. “I have read your report. It is factual. You did not, however, venture an opinion. I should like to hear it. What say you of the practicality of an armed expedition directed at Worcester?”
God in heaven!
“Speak up, young man! How many men would it require to destroy the stores in Worcester and thereafter return?!”
Howe’s face burned.
Gage was using him! Giving him over!
Two farmers and a mechanic had challenged him outside Concord. Championing the defeat of tyranny, faking great ardor, he had persuaded them. Afterward, most of the Concord townsmen had believed him, had laughed at him, had taken him for a wild-eyed rebel. He had enjoyed their hearty companionship. This question! He saw no way to play-act around it. He knew what they wanted. They were wrong. He had risked his life. What he knew was important. Wanting his true thinking or not, the General was going to hear it!
“If y'd’march 10,000 regulars, an' a train o' artillery t' Worcester … the roads bein' crooked and hilly, Worcester bein' 48 miles from Boston …”
“10,000 regulars!” Mitchell exclaimed. “Pah!”
“10,000 … 5,000, the amount don't matter. The provincials aim t'be free or die. Not one o' us'll get back alive.”
Instant silence. He read their faces. Shock. Disbelief. Seconds later, resentment. A sneering superiority. Only the faces of General Gage and Colonel Percy remained unchanged.
“Well, faith, I think we have a young man made afeared by the stories of old women!” Colonel Smith scoffed. Pushing his hands into the sides of his waist, he chortled.
“Old women ye say.” Pitcairn snorted. “Not a black, uppity tavairn wench?”
Laughter reverberated. Colonel Smith's face reddened. Despite his own roiled emotions, Howe, surprised that Smith had talked that much, smirked.
“I fairly own,” Smith began, “that the incident’s appearance is material for jest, … but, if you were there, in my stead, …”
“Be assured, Colonel. My remarrks are inspired only by my friendship for ye.” Major Pitcairn reached out. “I have been over familiar. I confess it. I ask humbly your parr-don.” He smiled contritely.
Colonel Smith blinked. General Gage, arms folded, was squinting at him. “Be it so,” Smith said haughtily.
“This presupposing man-jack,” Major Mitchell exclaimed, stepping forward, “this empty cove, privileged to opine in our company, overestimates the peril of such an expedition!”
I’ve put a burr up his crack! Howe thought.
“Provincials will never stand before His Majesty’s professionals! Never!”
“Perhaps,” General Gage answered. “Perhaps.” Watching Colonel Smith’s retreat to the liquor table, he rubbed aggressively the hollow of his left cheek. “But in the late war I fought beside the provincial and I attest to his courage! Additionally, Corporal Howe's observation about distance and poor roads is well taken!”
Howe’s face tingled.
“You should also know, gentlemen, you better than a corporal, never to disregard your enemy!”
Mitchell scowled.
“But your confidence has justification!” Eyes large, Gage paused. “An army requires confident officers! You do me that honor, gentlemen. You do me that honor!” He separated his hands. “The reprimand, you see, is as much a compliment! What you ascribe greater import to, the head or the tail, as with a harlot, is what you profess a greater fancy for!”
Major Pitcairn laughed first.
“By God, well said, General! By my word, well said!” Colonel Smith exclaimed.
The General's eyes glistened.
“Have a caution, sir,” spoke the ruddy-faced officer, the same that hours ago had teased Colonel Smith about the absence of brandy. “His Lordship's ears are burning!”
More laughter. They turned upon Colonel Percy, who had politely smiled.
“Ye don’t deceive us, Sir Hugh.” Pitcairn wagged a finger. “We know why ye have been seen ‘bout Mairchant Hancock's house that much. I fancy ye and the Lady Quincy have a mutual fancy! But tis not for me to conjectaire. Nay, tis not. But tell us, Hugh. Tell us. Reassure us that your heart is pure for an English girl.”
“I’ll tell you nothing, John,” Percy replied, good-naturedly. “Save your concern for your sons, I would advise.”
“Aye, my sons.” They laughed at Pitcairn's expression. “Indeed, Tom, my tom-cat son!”
Three officers walked to the liquor table. Major Mitchell filled the empty space opposite Howe. Looking at him with half-lidded eyes, the lank officer arched his back. “You say the road to Worcester is too long and treacherous. Concord is but 17 miles. What say you about Concord? Regale us again with your conscript acumen.”
Piss-in-the-corner sodomite! Seeing his hands were fists, Howe hid them behind his back.
General Gage, standing four feet away, watched.
Being he had the General's ear and the General had just defended him, and because he wanted to, Howe answered.
“I know, sir, about their military stores, the terrain, an' the roads. Five hundred mounted men could do it, I think.”
“Mounted men, corporal?”
“Yes sir. Foot soldiers, no. There be thousands of militiamen a'waitin' for 'em.”
“God rot you! God rot your perfidious pronouncements!” Mitchell's chest heaved.
“Mispairceptions, Major. At worst, unpremeditated declarations.” Pitcairn waved his left hand. “Wrapped, maybe, about a kairnel of truth. Give the lad fair latitude. Ye asked him a direct question. He has forthrightly answaired.”
Mitchell glared. “Be it so!” he spat. “I shall give him the widest of latitudes!”
Pitcairn’s eyes narrowed.
Mitchell turned upon Howe. “Assume for the moment, corporal, that what you say is true! Would not our Loyalist friends prevent that?!”
“No.”
“Pray tell why not?!”
“First, ...” Howe softened his voice. “There aren't many o' them, and, they be so terrorized they can't help no one, not even themselves. They be generally cowards, not t’be depended on.”
“Indeed!” Mitchell rolled his eyes. Colonel Smith tittered.
“You have recruit's disease, I believe,” Mitchell said.
“Sir?”
“The runs, corporal. Fire a few musket balls at the recruit and you see him run.” Eyes expectant, Mitchell waited.
Howe turned to see the General’s reaction.
Gage was gone!
“Your sergeant has the cure for that.”
“Sir?”
“A well aimed stroke to the testicles. That would answer precisely, I should think. Do you not agree, Major Pitcairn?”
The Scotsman frowned.
Heat radiated off Howe’s flesh. His thighs shook. Tightening his body, he stared at a framed landscape hung on the opposite-facing wall. Maidens in frocks were entertaining themselves by a misty stream. Howe fixated on the painting. Declaring Howe a milksop, Mitchell walked away.
“Young man.”
Howe started. General Gage was standing beside him.
“How old are you, corporal?”
“Twenty-two, sir,” Howe said, hoarsely.
“Your judgment has been very good for a beardless boy of twenty-two.” The corners of his mouth twitched. “Officers' company, an experience for you, is it not? Yes. Let me say, you are a good soldier, and a lucky and expert spy. You have earned this.” He handed Howe the coin purse cradled in his right hand. “Here also, as promised, is your ‘manuscript.’” Howe accepted the journal. “You shall be exempt hereafter from carrying a firelock. I shall expect you to report to me again tomorrow, at nine o’clock.” General Gage offered him a knowing look.
It wasn't a commission, as Colonel Smith had promised, but Howe had not expected that. He had received, instead, money. Sovereigns. He had been ridiculed and threatened and paid for his service. He would put the coins to good use, having entertained already tentative thoughts. What purpose General Gage had for wanting to see him the following morning mattered not one blazing straw, so strong was his disaffection.
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