Regardless of the circumstances, there was still duty to be done. The half-battery had to be manned, patrols had to go out to forage or to scout, their position had to be constantly improved, and watches had to be stood much as at sea, with some of the gunners by their pieces at all times. Knatchbull was not an imaginative man, but he was a competent one and practically ran the battery for Lewrie, presenting a going concern to his midshipman each morning with all the care of a first lieutenant doing the same for his captain. Sighting shots were fired with round shot out across the fields to let the gun captains find how far they could reach and improve their chances when a real foe presented himself. Gun drill was carried out every morning, just as aboard ship, and the midday rum ration was doled out at eleven-thirty in the morning, corresponding to the seven bells of the forenoon watch, followed by dinner. Alan led cutlass drill himself to keep the hands sharp and out of trouble with so much idle time. A corporal from the North Carolina Volunteers led the musket practice, and the men, with nothing other to bet on, began to improve at targets, being forced to load and fire faster than they ever had before.
Alan kept the men working on his gun carriages. Using the trucks as the base, he found enough seasoned wood to form axles and trails, and the more creative gunners did the rest. There was little that an English seaman could not make with his hands, if properly stimulated to the work, and soon he had spokes and greenwood wheels abuilding. The wheels would not have iron rims—they could not aspire to that with limited materials—but he could shift his guns more easily once the labor was finished.
The camp rang with hammering and sawing and the rasp of carpenters' planes and files. The naves began to sprout spokes as new platforms were nailed to the bottom of the trucks, and the trails were bolted on.
'Lookin' proper, Mister Lewrie,' Knatchbull informed him. 'I'd still use the breechin' ropes an' the side tackles an sich, just in case. That's greenwood an' pine at that. Takes good oak or ash ta do it right.'
'Still, it eases the work of running out to the gunports in this redan.' Alan was pleased with the handiwork of the first piece to be converted and emplaced. 'We could cut down two men from each gun crew and send them back aboard ship.'
'Aye, sir, but iffen we had ta get outa here in a hurry, I'd not be sendin' 'em back ta the ship anytime soon,' Knatchbull replied.
'I shall write the captain a letter about it, anyway,' Alan decided. If Treghues was in a better mental state, it didn't hurt to piss down his superior's back and let him know that at least one of his midshipmen was being diligent and creative in adversity—one he could not quite remember clearly since his trephination, but one whom he should get to know once more on much better terms.
'Guess we better test-fire the bugger, Mister Lewrie,' Knatchbull said. 'Full cartridge an' round shot.'
'There is nothing at present to our front. No scouts out this morning this late. Let's do.'
A gun crew came forward, while the rest of the men and some of the Hessian Jagers and North Carolina troops who were free of duties came to gawk; at a reasonably safe distance, Alan noted. Since it was his idea, there was nothing for it but to stand beside the gun crew as the piece was loaded.
'Charge yer gun,' Knatchbull intoned. 'Shot yer gun. prime yer gun. Quoin in. Don't wanna hit no poor bastard off in them woods.'
'Aim for that clump of shrubbery three cables off,' Alan ordered. 'Excess crew take cover. I'll touch her off.'
The side-tackle men and the powder boy scuttled to the rear, and the rammer man, shot man, and gun captain headed out to the flanks in the trench on either side of the gun platform.
Alan lowered the smouldering length of slowmatch gripped in the claws at the end of the linstock to the priming quill and took a deep breath. He touched the quill and there was a flash of powder smoke and a sharp hissing sound as the fine-mealed powder in the quill took light. Then there was a sharp bang, and the piece recoiled to the back of the platform right smartly, snubbing at the extent of the breeching ropes and slewing a bit on the new high wheels. It reared a bit on its trail, then thumped back down heavily, but after the smoke cleared Alan could detect no cracks or splintering of the new carriage.
'Check her over, Knatchbull,' Alan said, letting out his breath. Still got my nutmegs intact, he exulted.
A ragged cheer rose from the hands and the onlookers, and Alan took a theatrical bow to his audience while Knatchbull and several of the men closely involved in the carriage's construction looked it over.
'Sound as a fifty-guinea horse, so 'tis,' Knatchbull judged.
'Musta skeered that fella ta death, Mister Lewrie,' the gun captain laughed, pointing off into the fields where a rider could be seen at full gallop, heading their way.
'We didn't put a ball near him, did we?' Alan worried.
'Nah, didn' come nowhere close, sir,' the gun captain told him. 'Put the ball dead square in that clump, mebbe a furlong shy, anyways.'
Alan unslung the telescope by the gun and took a look at the approaching stranger. He was wearing the uniform of a British officer, but that was about all that could be discovered until he had reined in his mount by the outlying sentries and shouted his news, panting dramatically as though the world hung on his next word.
'Washington's army,' he gasped. 'On the Williamsburg road. On their way here, about ten miles off. They'll be up to these positions by nightfall! Have you a fresh mount? Mine's done in.'
'Good God a-mighty, Mister Lewrie,' Knatchbull muttered, his craggy face dark with concern at this new development.
'Yes, Knatchbull,' Alan replied calmly, having been apprised of the possibility days before. 'Now, even more reason to continue work on the new gun carriages, is it not? Rum ration at the usual time.'
He took out his pocket watch and opened the face as though the question of rum was really more important.
'Aye, sir.'
'And I want the second gun mounted by nightfall at the latest. So work 'em hard after dinner.'
'Aye, aye, sir.' Knatchbull nodded, calmed by the sangfroid of his immediate superior, and went off to do Lewrie's bidding without another thought.
There, that'll show the bastards I can be as cool as a post-captain, Alan thought grimly. Mister Railsford, wherever you are over there on the Gloucester side, thanks for the warning about showing calm.
After dark, Alan could hear the enemy army on its approach march. He was certain that the army could be heard as far back as Yorktown itself. Chains jangled from artillery caissons, axles squealed and screamed as heavy guns and supply wagons made their way over the poor roads. Even the grunting and neighing of horses could be heard, and the bawl of oxen in their yokes being goaded forward and, now and again when the wind was just right, the solid tramp of many marching feet. There was nothing to be seen to the front, even with a fairly full moon; only the silent hills and the silvered forests that brooded in their alienness.
'Think they'll attack tonight, Mister Lewrie?' Knatchbull asked.
'They've covered at least ten miles today, maybe twenty,' Alan told him, repeating what little he could pick up from the talk at supper with the Chiswick brothers, their captain, and the Jager officers in a pavilion back near the end of the draw. 'We would know if they had attempted to scout us, so it's sure they don't know where our fortifications are, for now. They'll scout tomorrow, but we've nothing to fear for this evening. Still, make sure the guns are loaded with round shot and canister to boot, run out ready to fire with tompions in to protect the charges against the night damp until time to fire. Post two men from each gun crew as sentries with muskets. They are not to fire at anything unless strictly ordered, or I'll have the man who did it tied to a tree and flogged, if a grating can't be found.'
'Four-hour watches, Mister Lewrie?'
'Aye. You can use a watch?'
'Ah, I ain't no scholard, Mister Lewrie,' Knatchbull admitted in the darkness. 'But I got the hour glass.'
'Good enough, then,' Alan said, making a production of yawning for Knatchbull's and his men's benefit. 'I'll turn in. Send a man to wake me if there is an alarm, and without fail at the end of the middle watch.'
Alan wandered back from the ramparts of their new post and found his small tent tucked away under a grove of trees snuggled up on the right side of the draw. Cony had a small fire going that was barely flaming to see by as he stripped off his coat and waistcoat, loosened his neckcloth, and slid off his shoes.
'You turn in, Cony,' Alan told him. 'Knatchbull will send someone to wake you for lookout before dawn.'
'Aye, Mister Lewrie,' Cony replied, spreading a hammock for ground cloth by the fire and arranging his blankets.
