The Midshipman Prince (16 page)

      
Within the hour, they could see movement aboard the
Richmond
as two of the largest boats were lowered over the side. The boats were loaded with the ships’ women and children and were rowed by the most elderly seamen. These were the people who would be least likely to survive what could be years in a French prison.

      
After the boats were well away and could no longer be considered part of the
Richmond
, Captain Hudson walked to the base of the mizzenmast and personally lowered the colors. There were tears in Smith’s eyes and, truth be told, even a little misting in Walker’s, as she surrendered.

      
They stayed to watch French officers come on board both the
Richmond
and the
Iris
and accept the swords of both captains.

      
They stayed to watch the French boarding parties come over to herd the men below deck under guard, and substitute officers and men of their own to run the ship.

      
They stayed to watch the two refugee boats from the
Richmond
and one from the
Iris
draw near, then pass by Wormley Creek, on their way to the Yorktown docks.

      
And then they could watch no more.

* * *

      
No one said much as they ate an evening meal that the Moore House staff had hastily assembled. It was dark out and the only sounds that could be heard were the chirping of the night insects outside and the muted clink of cutlery inside.

      
The staff cleared away the dishes and brought out a large bottle of sherry and another pitcher of Walker’s lemon-drink. Glasses were poured, but still nothing was said.

      
Walker felt rather than heard someone sit down in the chair next to him. He looked up from contemplating his glass to see Susan Whitney sitting there, her hands folded in front of her as if she had been at the table the whole time.

      
“Susan?” Walker could hardly believe his eyes. “What the hell are...”

      
“Lieutenant Smith, are you going to hog that sherry all night or are you going to offer a lady a drink?”

      
Smith scrambled to get another glass from the credenza. “What are you doing here?”

      
“The same thing you are. I assume you know the
Richmond
was taken today. Before surrendering, Captain Hudson put the women and powder monkeys into some boats and we made for the Yorktown docks. After I got ashore and got everyone more or less settled. I asked around Cornwallis’ headquarters to see were you were. A clerk said he thought you were at Moore House, so I walked out here and... here I am.

      
“So, what’s the plan?” She cheerfully concluded.

      
“The plan is to get you back to town the first thing in the morning. You can’t stay with us,” Walker insisted.

      
“Oh, and why might that be?”

      
Walker was stumped until inspiration struck him. “We’re going to make a break out of here. It will be a rather desperate gamble—far too dangerous for you.”

      
Whitney said nothing for a long moment, and then replied, “Walker, have you ever thought about what my options are at the moment? No? Well, let me review them for you.

      
“First, when Cornwallis surrenders, and he will, I could be treated as a straight prisoner of war. After all, I was a surgeon’s mate aboard one of His Majesty’s ships and, therefore, a combatant. I would then be carted off to whatever prisoner of war camp they have in mind for the duration. Have you ever thought about what being a female in a prisoner of war camp might be like?

      
“Or, perhaps, they will have mercy on me and simply put me out on the street. What then? How exactly do you think I will survive? If I am lucky maybe I could get some officer to take me in—to clean his house, do his laundry and be his bedmate. If less lucky, maybe some enlisted man might have me. If less lucky still, maybe a squad might give me food in exchange for passing me around the tents each night.

      
“You see some other options, Walker? Because I don’t.”

      
Complete silence descended on the room. Finally, Smith quietly said, “She’s right you know.”

      
“Oh, damn it. I know she’s right,” Walker fumed. “All right, you’re in. But, I am not going to be responsible if you get hurt or killed.”

      
“Oh, that’s refreshing. Do remind me to put that in my diary tonight.”

      
“I am afraid these gentlemen have the advantage of me, madam. Of course, if they were real gentlemen they would have introduced us a long time ago.”

      
“Oh, I am sorry Your... Damn, I am sorry... William. We were just so surprised to see Susan show up.” Smith then completed the introduction and filled Hanover in on Susan’s role aboard ship.

      
Susan was horrified. “I… I am sorry I did not give you a curtsy like a proper lady when I came in, Your Highness. And, I am afraid I am not dressed for...” Susan started self-consciously clutching the threadbare gingham dress she was wearing.

      
“First, if you’re going to be a part of this group you need to forget all that. I am Midshipman William Hanover. Period. You can call me Bill, if you like. In fact... ‘Bill’ – I rather like that. Sort of a rough and ready colonist name, what? Anyway, Susan, if we’re all going to be in this together, forget the royalty nonsense, all right.”

      
“Yes, sir... er... Bill.”

      
“And the dress is fine,” he said in passing. “You fill it better than 99% of the countesses in England.”

      
Susan blushed to the soles of her feet, but was also more pleased with that remark than she could ever express.
My God,
she thought.
I’ve just been complimented by a prince. What would mother think about that?

      
“Now, Walker, you have something to report, I believe.”

      
“I do?”

      
“Indeed. Did you not just tell this lady about the desperate break out plan we had in mind. Well... out with it, man.”

      
“Actually,” Walker began, “I’ve been thinking about it since the
Richmond
surrendered this afternoon. Let me see if I can get a map around here.” Walker found a servant who showed up in the parlor a few minutes later with a map of Yorktown and one of the Chesapeake area. Walker unrolled the map of Yorktown first.

      
“Gather ‘round.

      
“Now, the one thing we know is that we can’t stay where we are,” Walker began. “It’s only a matter of time before Cornwallis has to fold his hand. Therefore, we have to get out of here and somehow get behind the American and French lines; but how and in which direction do we go?

      
“We can’t go east, west or south of Yorktown. The Americans are dug in to the east and south; the French are dug in to the west. Moreover, they will be at full alert at all times because they half-expect Cornwallis to try a forced breakout at any moment.

      
“But look over here to the north, across the York River, there is a little peninsula called “Gloucester Point.” There’s already a small British garrison over there. They’re cut off from advancing any farther by American troops. It’s also easy to reach as there are small boats going back and forth all the time.”

      
“So, why would it be any easier to get through the American lines there than somewhere else?” Smith asked.

      
“I don’t know that for certain; but my guess is that Gloucester Point consists of several small units that have effectively been eliminated from the fighting—and they know it. They are the backwater of this battle and the American troops will not be at nearly the same level of alertness as their brethren on the other shore.

      
“So, tomorrow I suggest we take one of the supply boats over to Gloucester Point.”

      
“All right, but once we get there, how do we get through the American lines?” asked Smith.

      
“I don’t know.”

      
“Assuming we get through the American lines, what do we do next?” asked Hanover.

      
“I don’t know,” replied Walker again.

      
“Well, that certainly sounds like a plan to me,” quipped Susan.

CHAPTER FIVE

      
THE worst of it was the mosquitoes. It was as if each plant was home to hundreds of them and, in the absence of any kind of breeze, they were a plague.

      
Walker, Smith, Hanover, and Whitney transferred across the York River on the noon supply barge. After a brief survey of the British lines, they made their way to Redoubt #4 which anchored the British right flank. Since then, they had been sitting in the redoubt staring at the terrain in front of them.

      
The eastern edge of the Gloucester peninsula was nothing but marshes and sandy beaches punctuated by lazy creeks coming from inland and coves cutting in from the ocean. About 100 yards directly ahead was Sarah Creek that extended about a quarter mile inland. The water was brown and murky and they had no idea of its depth. About a hundred yards beyond the creek was the left flank of the American lines. They did not know how many men were over there. Farther to the left, in the distance, was a small hill, also occupied by the Americans. To their right, on the other side of the creek, was a low lying beach about 30 yards wide that ended abruptly in a steep rise on the land side. The beach and the rise went off into the visible distance.

      
“Ideas?” Smith asked the group. They had been staring at the ground ahead of them for some time and it was getting dark.

      
“Yes. I have an idea that this whole thing is hopeless,” said Hanover. “There they are. Here we are. We’re as trapped as Cornwallis, only on a smaller scale.”

      
Walker wasn’t quite as sure. There was an idea percolating through his brain. He could feel it periodically rising to the surface of his consciousness only to submerge itself again at the last minute, just as he was about to get a hold of it. Finally, it emerged and stayed put.

      
“Yeah, actually I
do
have an idea.” He had the undivided attention of the other three.

      
“Look over there at their sentry. Watch his movements. He starts his patrol at the rise overlooking the beach. Then he walks about 150 paces along the American line, turns, comes 150 paces back, and repeats.”

      
“So?” Hanover asked.

      
“He does it exactly the same way, each and every time. My guess is that his replacement this evening will also do it the same way.

      
“Then, I repeat... so?”

      
“We wait until dark, cross over to the other side of the creek and position ourselves on the beach under the lip of the rise. Once the sentry starts back in the other direction on his patrol, we sprint down the beach. He’ll be walking away from us at that point. If we can get past the guard post and far enough down the beach before he gets back, he won’t see us and we’ll be home free.”

      
“How do you propose getting across the creek?” Smith asked.

      
“If it’s not very deep, we wade across. If it’s too deep to wade, then we swim.”

      
Silence.

      
“Come on, it’s a good plan.”

      
Silence.

      
“You all
can
swim, can’t you?”