The Royal Marines had camped on the shore at Biloxi where they guarded the guns and stores. They had been alerted by the sound of firing to the west and were drawn up and preparing to march when the first of the retreating soldiers who had escaped the attack stumbled up. Major Dashwood strode to the staggering infantryman and pulled him around by his collar.
“Speak up — what is happening?”
“Attack… dawn. Surprised us. Got lots of guns, sir. Soldiers, masses of them too. General ordered retreat…”
“He didn’t order you to throw away your weapon.”
The major hurled the man to the ground and kicked him in the ribs with his heavy boot; the soldier screamed like a girl.
“I want all those defenses manned,” the major said striding up the beach. “Get those boxes and bales up, use them for cover as well. Wheel those cannon about. See that the men do a good job and a fast one. Lieutenant, you are in command until I return. I am going out there to find out what is going on.”
The horse, captured in the attack, was a wall-eyed brute and very skittish at the best of times. The major, with little riding skills, managed to clamber into the saddle with the aid of two marines. At an uncontrolled gallop he headed toward the sound of action. He found it quickly enough and managed to pull hard on the reins to drag the horse to a stop.
The cause was lost, that was obvious at a glance. English bodies covered the ground. They had taken many of the enemy with them — but not enough. The surviving British troops appeared to be surrounded and unable to escape. Surrounded by what was obviously a far superior force. He could counterattack with his marines. But they would be outnumbered as well — and certainly could not arrive in time to make any difference to the outcome of this battle. The intensity of the firing was dying down as the small circle of defenders grew ever smaller. A bullet kicked up sand nearby and he realized that he been seen by the skirmishers and was under fire himself. Reluctantly he turned the horse and galloped back to the beach.
When he saw that the defenses were manned and as strong as he could make them, he ordered the sailors to man one of the beached boats and made his way to the Warrior.
And total confusion. Boats from the other ships were crowded at the gangway and he had to wait until the senior officers went first. When he finally made it to the deck he saw that working parties were bumping into each other on deck, while others were aloft furling the mainsail to avoid scorching by smoke from the stack. The third officer, with whom he shared a cabin, was supervising the lowering of the aft telescopic funnel so he crossed the deck to him.
“Des, what’s happening? Are we going to sail?”
“Yes… and no.” He turned to bellow at a sailor. “You there — watch yourself! Lean into that line!” He motioned Dashwood aside, spoke quietly so the crewmen could not hear him.
“The admiral is dead — and apparently by his own hand.”
“I think I know why.”
“That island out there, you can just make it out on the horizon. That is Deer Island.”
Dashwood looked from island to shore. “And how did our wonderfully efficient navy make this mistake? A slight error in navigation?”
Dashwood smiled coldly at the officer’s discomfiture. “We discovered it this morning. General Bullers is now continuing the attack. I was to follow him as soon as the rest of the supplies are ashore. Now — I must report to the duke — ”
“Gone on the Java.”
“Then who is in command?”
“Who knows? The captain has called a meeting of senior captains in his cabin.”
“I have some more bad news for them.” He leaned close and whispered. “Buller has been attacked, defeated.” He turned and went below.
Two of his marines were stationed at the cabin door and jumped to attention when he appeared.
“Captain ordered us, sir. No entry…”
“Stand aside Dunbar — or I’ll strangle you with your own guts.”
The arguing captains looked up when the marine officer entered.
“Damn it, Dashwood, I left orders…”
“Indeed you did, sir.” He closed the door before he spoke. “I have the worst possible news for you. General Buller and his entire command are under attack. By now all of them have been killed or captured.”
“That cannot be!”
“I assure you that it is. I went there myself and saw what was happening. One of the soldiers who escaped can confirm this report.”
“Take your men — go to their aid!” The captain of the Royal Oak called out.