City of Glory A Novel of War and Desire in Old Manhattan

Chapter One Lake Erie, Nine Miles from Put-in-BayFriday, September 10, 1813, 2 p.m. Instead of inhaling the deep breath of fresh air Joyful Turner longed for when he came topside, he had to pull his neckerchief over his nose and mouth to keep from choking. The fight had been going on for two hours -- six British ships against nine American, but the British far superior in tonnage and arms -- and the air was black with the smoke of gunpowder and thick with the stench of death. "Dr. Turner, over here, sir!" Joyful made his way toward Commodore Perry's voice. It was slow going, impossible to see much of anything, the decks of theLawrenceslick with blood and the brig listing dangerously to port. He had to hang onto the gunwale to keep his footing. Perry's flagship was too close to the British lines for the enemy's superiority in the larger long guns to be useful, but their gunners had found the range with smaller weapons. A shell from a short cannon known as a carronade landed close behind Joyful. A great gust of sparks flared for a moment, then died. The deck shivered beneath his feet and the list to port worsened. The blast had been close enough to make his ears ring. He shook his head to clear it, heard nothing at first, then, as if from a far distance, Perry's second shout: "Dr. Turner, I want you!" "I'm here, Commodore." "Yes, so you are. Good Christ, man, you look a sight." Thirty-two years old, Joyful was tall and lean, with blue eyes and red hair, now flattened with sweat. The long oilskin apron he wore during surgery was spattered with blobs of gore and splinters of bone. Joyful looked down at himself, then squinted up into the rigging. The sails were in tatters, and most of the lines and braces had been shot away. "We're none of us at our best at the moment, sir." Perry managed a wry smile. There was another blast from the British. "The flag, man! Get the flag!" The man who rushed to follow Perry's command was an ordinary tar; the commodore was the only officer not flat on his back below decks in Joyful's crammed hospital quarters. Joyful's gut tightened as he watched the sailor head for the foremast. "Are we striking our colors, sir?" Surrendering to the British might make sense, but the thought sickened him. "Indeed we are not, Dr. Turner. It's my battle flag I want.Lawrencehas become impossible to control, as you can see. I'm taking overNiagara."Perry nodded toward the row of American ships stretched beside them, half shrouded in the fog of the engagement. "You're to come with me, Doctor, and bring any crew who are able to come topside. I don't care if they must crawl." "I have sixty-three severely wounded patients below -- " "And twenty-one corpses. I'm aware of the numbers, Doctor." Both men knew that fewer than a hundred of the brig's hundred-thirty-man complement had started the action fit for duty. The single rowboat being lowered over the brig's side would easily accommodate the survivors of this experiment in close-quarters fighting on which Perry had staked his chance to defeat an enemy that, while a smaller squadron, both outgunned and outmanned him. The man who had been sent to get the battle flag returned. Perry took the blue banner and quickly folded it. Joyful couldn't see the words embroidered in large white letters, but he knew what they said. DON'T GIVE UP THE SHIP. "Any man who can crawl, Doctor," Perry repeated. "If he can haul a line, I want him. Even if it's to be his last move. And yourself." "I will inform the men of your orders, Commodore. But few of the wounded will be able to comply, however much they want to." God alone knew how many legs he'd amputated in the last couple of hours. Joyful had stopped counting when the number went above two dozen. "As for me, I can't leave my patients." As ship's surgeon, he was in the employ of theSwerling, Beverly is the author of 'City of Glory A Novel of War and Desire in Old Manhattan', published 2008 under ISBN 9780743269216 and ISBN 0743269217.