Love and War

blades slapping water quickened. A bosun's pipe sounded on the Yankee cruiser. Through the trumpet boomed the great disembodied voice. 'Heave to or I will open fire.'

'Ballantyne,' Cooper began, 'you've got to —' Curses and shouts from the scared sailors overlaid his words, as did Ballantyne's loud 'Keep him out.' The door of the pilothouse slammed, nearly hitting Cooper's nose.

'Steam frigate,' the lookout exclaimed. 'Dead astern.'

And there she was, swung out in pursuit a couple of miles behind them, moonlit smoke billowing, all her square sails set to add an extra two or three knots to the speed generated by her boilers. Water Witch began to move faster, leaping free of the heavy surf rolling in to shore on the starboard side.

Cooper's gut hurt. One, two, three sparking trails appeared high above Daylight. The moon grew feeble as a trimmed lamp when the Drummond rockets burst, their calcium light whitening everything. Even the muskets of the men in the launches were visible.

A gun on the pursuing cruiser flashed and went rumph, then another. The shells fell short, raising geysers that shone like liquid diamonds under the flare light. At the first crash, Cooper ran below, his hair flying.

Their cabin door was open, Judith there, her arms around the children. She tried not to show her fright. Cooper grabbed her damp hand. 'Come on, this way.'

Another shell exploded, this one much closer. The vessel rocked as she strained ahead.

'Pa, what is it?' Judah exclaimed.

'The moon came out, and Ballantyne wouldn't turn back, the son of a bitch. All he cares about is getting his goods to Wilmington — Come on.' He jerked Judith so hard, she cried out. He regretted it, but he had to get them to safety.

'Where are we going?' his daughter said as the hull tilted.

'To the boats. Ballantyne will have them lowered by now. Our only chance is to row ashore.'

When the family emerged on deck, Cooper couldn't believe what he saw: every boat still swaying wildly on its davits. He grabbed a passing crewman.

'Put the boats down so we can get off!'

'Nobody's gettin' off, mister. We're runnin' for the river.' He dashed on, whirling an alarm rattle. The ratchet sounded loud as pistol fire.

More Drummond lights spread their white glow. A shell came whining in, struck the stern and lifted it. Judith screamed. So did the children. All of them fell against Cooper, tumbling him into the scuppers and crushing him against the rail.

'Papa, I'm scared.' Marie-Louise flung her arms around Cooper's neck. 'Will the boat sink? Will we be prisoners of the Yankees?'

'No,' he gasped, struggling to regain his feet as Water Witch rolled again, caught in the heavy surf. Cannon boomed, the glare visible above the rail. Two crewmen turned their heads at a whistling sound. One pushed the other, too late. Scattering grape felled both men and shattered the window of the pilothouse.

Judith ducked and bit her hand to hold back an outcry. A massive detonation went off belowdecks. Someone yelled, 'We're hulled.'

At once, the runner listed sharply to starboard. Cooper saw Captain Ballantyne on deck, running back and forth in a state of agitation, trying to find men to help him lower one boat. 'Bastard,' Cooper said. 'Greedy stupid bastard. Come on, children —  Judith — we're getting in that boat if I have to kill every man on this ship.'

Balancing on the steeply tilting deck, they slid to the starboard side, where high waves spent their strength against the shoreline. If all else failed, Cooper thought, they might manage to swim and wade to the beach. Holding his daughter, he worked his way down the slippery incline toward the captain, who had flung himself into the effort to lower a boat.

'Ballantyne —' Before Cooper could shout anything else, another shell hit belowdecks. The explosion was followed by terrifying noise — the howl of metal rupturing, a furious hiss of steam, and some of the worst screams Cooper had ever heard.

Water Witch's port side came up, parallel with the sea. Cooper saw his wife's blonde head rush past him, downward. He saw her form a word — their son's name. Judah's hand had somehow slipped from her grasp. Where was he? Cooper tried to see, still holding fast to Marie-Louise as he himself fell.

In all the noise, the shrieks, the crash of surf and guns, Ballantyne, incredibly, made himself heard. Cooper had a distorted glimpse of the captain, hair standing out from his head, arms flung wide against the moon.

'Boilers have burst. Every man for —' Between Ballantyne's legs, the deck split open and swallowed him, screaming, into clouds of steam.

The mate, Soapes, and two other crewmen fought to be first to jump over the side. Belowdecks, dying men screamed in the engine room. Cooper was flung against the rail with back-breaking force. He started to clamber over, one arm circling his daughter's shoulders, the other groping for Judith's hand and clutching it. The steamer careened farther, its keel rising out of the sea. The Mains fell past the rail into white foam.

Treading water, gasping, Cooper clung to his wife and daughter. 'Where's — Judah?'

'I don't know,' Judith shouted back.

Then, amidst the debris falling around them as Water Witch broke apart, he spied a floating body whose clothes he recognized. He hurled Marie-Louise at his wife and swam the short distance, fighting against the opposing waves. He had a premonition that his son was dead, probably killed when the boilers burst. As he struggled the last few feet, he tried to summon hope that he was wrong.

Judah floated face down. Cooper grabbed for his son's shoulder but miscalculated the distance and caught the boy's head. The head rolled into sight, steam-scalded, bone showing in several places. Judah was barely recognizable. A wave swept between father and son, leaving nothing in Cooper's hand but a piece of skin.

'Judah!' He screamed the name. Away and under went the frail body. 'Judah, Judah.' He wrenched back, waves battering him, water cascading over his head, choking him, mingling with demented tears. 'Judith, he's dead, he's gone, he's dead.'

'Swim, Cooper.' She seized his collar, jerking him. 'Swim with us or we'll all die.'

A section of mast fell just beyond her. Cooper started to paddle with his left arm, and kick, while his right hand supported Marie-Louise, crying hysterically now. On the other side of the girl, Judith helped support her. Cooper felt pain in his chest, then in his muscles as he kicked toward the shore, closer to drowning each time the waves broke over them from behind.

A moment more, and he felt himself bumped by floating objects. He spat out salt water and vomit, and saw they had struggled into an area where round, gauze-wrapped disks and small wood casks stenciled in Spanish floated. Sherry and cheese, cheese and sherry — sinking, then bobbing up, on the coast of war —

The sight fused Cooper's thoughts and fears and feelings, locking them in a solid black delirium. He screamed once more and kept swimming. He remembered nothing else.

71

In the deep amber dusk, Orry hurried past a wall on which someone had painted three words, only to have someone else attempt to scrub them away. Just above his head, ghostly white letters spelled DEATH TO DAVIS.

Neither the message — a not uncommon one these days — nor anything else, including his odious job, could spoil his mood. He was rushing because he had taken longer at supper than he intended. He and his old friend George Pickett had drained a forty-dollar bottle of imported Graves with their meal and packed several years' worth of reminiscences into a little more than an hour.

Pickett, who had been Orry's West Point classmate, looked as handsome as ever. Scented hair flowed over the collar of his uniform, and his smile shone as brightly as Orry remembered. They discussed subjects as diverse as their wives and the fat Yankee Bent, whose hatred of Orry had driven him to plot against Cousin Charles while