Included in that figure he counted the six men left to guard the rear and were now presumed dead. Of the half dozen sentries on the barges, three had survived by throwing themselves overboard before being immolated, and a handful of men on shore had been killed by American gunfire or by falling debris.
Arnold nodded. “And that damn fool Rudyard was one of the dead, wasn’t he?”
“He was,” Danforth said reluctantly. Rudyard had indeed been a fool, and a drunken one at that, but he’d also been Danforth’s friend.
“Then he’s fortunate he’s dead, otherwise I’d be forced to court martial him and have him hanged for dereliction of duty. His incompetence has destroyed what remains of my dreams. Damn him,” Arnold said, his voice nearly a sob.
He turned and looked again at the mangled corpses. Some of the fixed grins seemed to be mocking him. “Bury them. Then we’ll finish our journey.”
Danforth turned away. He didn’t give a stinking shit about Benedict Arnold’s dreams of money and glory. All he wanted to do was see a victorious end to this campaign and a return home to England where he could seduce and marry the wealthy daughter of a rural squire. He’d had more than enough of war.
* * *
Will helped the frail old man to the top of the hill. Benjamin Franklin was winded by the time he made it, and had to pause and gather himself before he could speak with General Stark. Will was worried about Franklin’s well-being. The hill wasn’t that tall or that steep. Will had barely noticed it.
Franklin regained his breath and looked about him. General Stark looked on quizzically. “What are you thinking, Doctor Franklin?”
“My dear General, I am thinking that I was expecting so much more. You’ve had a good deal of time to prepare for the second coming of Burgoyne and I’d rather expected defenses that were much more formidable and daunting.”
“Impregnable?” Stark asked with a smile.
“Something like that, General, although I know full well that there is no such thing as an impregnable fortress. Something like irresistible forces meeting immovable objects, I believe. But still, I had rather hoped to see so much more than some ditches and some earthworks protected by wooden spikes. While I admit that they run for several miles, they just aren’t terribly impressive.”
“If you had an army, do you think you could storm this hill?”
“I am many things, but a military man is not one of them. Still, General, I do think that Burgoyne’s army could batter its way through if they were willing to pay the price.”
Will moved a few steps away. He would let the two men discuss matters with a semblance of privacy. Of course, he would stay close enough to listen unless one of them told him to either join the discussion or move farther away.
Stark smiled tightly. “Let me guess, you expected something like the hundred foot tall triple walls of Byzantium that kept barbarians at bay for so many centuries in the days of Rome and the subsequent Byzantine Empire.”
Franklin flushed with anger, “Hardly. But I did expect something more.”
“And what would Burgoyne do if he saw what you wished us to build? Do you think he’d go away? Return to New York? No. His orders are to destroy us and anything less would be a disgrace to him and his ambitions.”
Stark turned and waved at the work going on around them. “No, Doctor, what Burgoyne would do if he found us too strong to attack would be to try to find a way around us. He would probe to our left and he would find a stream in flood that presents a significant barrier and, beyond that, he would find miserable ground leading to the lake. Then he would turn to our right and he would find that the swamp to our right is an even greater deterrent. By the way, Doctor, we have spent a great deal of time and effort making sure that the stream and swamp are formidable barriers by diverting other streams into both.”
Franklin shook his head. “In which case, he could still go farther around our flank and find the end to the swamp.”
“Which would cost him valuable time, and that is a commodity he doesn’t possess. Major Drake stands over there pretending he isn’t listening to us, and he will confirm that, won’t you, Major.”
Will smiled. He was not at all embarrassed. “It’s the truth, Doctor. We’ve intercepted a number of messages from Lord Cornwallis stating the need for Burgoyne to make haste and destroy us before New York and the rest of the colonies explode and take them all to hell. Add to that the reality that George III wants his army back to fight in France and you have the fact that Burgoyne is under great pressure to end this as quickly as is possible. Thus, he is unlikely to spend time maneuvering his army unless he absolutely has to.”
“What a happy thought,” Franklin mused. “But I still don’t understand? Why not make the fortifications greater?”
Stark smiled. “Because, if they were indeed too strong, he would have a legitimate reason to defy Cornwallis and go beyond that damned swamp and devil take the extra time such a move would require. But now he will be faced with a conundrum. The defenses will be strong, but not all that strong. He will face the likelihood of both success and heavy losses if he attacks us here, but he will see no alternative given his orders to make haste.
“Everything I’ve heard says he is tormented by two incidents in his life. First, the tremendous casualties he saw the British army take when it launched frontal assaults on our positions at Bunker Hill and, second, the devastating impact of his surrender at Saratoga caused in part by his dividing his army and attempting to maneuver around us. We want him to come to us where we want him, not anyplace else.”
The truth dawned on Franklin. “And this hill is the place where you want to fight him.”
“Precisely, indeed,” Stark said. “We stand little enough chance as it is, so I wish to be the one to choose the battlefield, not Burgoyne. I have no desire to see him turning our flank and us chasing him to God knows where and then possibly having to fight him in the open without the protection of any significant fixed defenses. No, Doctor, I wish to fight him here.”
“And here we stand a chance of victory? This is reminiscent of Bunker Hill, is it not?”
“We stand very little chance of victory,” Stark admitted. “But a little chance is better than no chance at all. And kindly recall that we lost at Bunker Hill, although I must admit we are now far better trained and equipped then the army we had back then.”
He did not need to add that part of the reason for the British army’s ultimate success at Bunker Hill was because the colonists simply ran out of ammunition. There would be more than enough ammunition for the coming fight, just not enough men.
Stark paced the hill’s gentle crest. “Are you aware that the men are calling this Mount Washington? It’s largely sarcasm of course, since it does not in anyway resemble a mountain, but they know that this is where we will make our stand. What Burgoyne will do differently than what he saw in Boston that day, is that he will prepare the field instead of charging straight into our defenses. He will try to clear the abattis we’ve weaved and fill in the ditches in front of the earthworks before he attacks, and that will tell us exactly where he must fall on us. There will be no room for subtlety.”
“And this is to our advantage?” Franklin asked.
“To a very small extent, but yes.”
“But won’t we be in a better position when the men from the south arrive?” Franklin persisted.
Stark shook his head sadly. “They’re not coming.”
* * *
Burgoyne was livid. “Gone? All of them? Every one of the cannon on those barges? All the ammunition and supplies? This is not possible,” he said as he paced the confines of his tent. “Not even Arnold could be that inept.”
Danforth tried hard to stand at attention. He hadn’t eaten in days and what remained of his uniform was caked with mud and hung in rags. Behind Burgoyne, Fitzroy looked at his friend with deep sympathy. Not only was Benedict Arnold’s career ruined, but so too was Captain Peter Danforth’s. But he quickly changed his mind. Danforth’s family had more than enough wealth to buy forgiveness and even a promotion when the proverbial dust settled. Assuming Danforth wanted either forgiveness or promotion. He’d briefly told Fitzroy of his decision to leave the army.