Liberty 1784: The Second War for Independence Read Free

of incoming tides or storms would make the water undrinkable. It was often brackish, but rarely so salty that it couldn’t be drunk. Other hulks lay off Brooklyn, in the East River, where the water was tidal, brackish and generally undrinkable. Will and the others on the Suffolk were actually the lucky ones.
    Will had lost many pounds from his once sturdy frame, and the fact that his teeth were loosening meant that scurvy was on its way. If nothing happened to save him soon, he would die a painful and lingering death and join so many of his comrades in either the river or a shallow grave. It did not appear that the victorious king and his Parliament had any intention of freeing the prisoners they’d swept up during and after the war. Will wondered if anyone even remembered that the prisoners existed. Will had heard that as many as ten thousand American soldiers had died in the hulks. He feared that someday someone would strip his own cadaver naked and drop it into the filthy bilge. The thought of his bones sliding into the river sickened him even further. He wanted to weep in despair, but decided not to waste the energy. Stay alive. Survive. There was always a chance of life until the moment of death.
    Along with physical imprisonment, there was the maddening lack of knowledge of events in the outside world. He could look longingly out the gun ports at rural life in New Jersey. Farms like the one he once owned were being worked and life was going on very pleasantly for people who were either Tories or who had made peace with their conquerors. Will wondered if they even gave a thought to the wretches in the Suffolk .
    Every now and then a new prisoner would arrive, and be pumped for information. The British were strong everywhere, they said, but there were rumors of rebel colonies out in the west. In particular, there was one that was apparently called “Liberty.” It made sense, Will thought. The vastness of the continent would attract many people who would trade space to get away from the claws of Mother England.
    Once upon a time, he’d had a family and a profession, but his parents were dead of smallpox, and a brother had been killed at Brandywine. He had cousins, but they were Tories. He was thankful that he didn’t have a wife and children outside somewhere waiting and wondering if he was dead or alive. Widows and children faced a life almost as miserable as his. They could starve, or, including children, be forced into prostitution. Or they could die of the pox or a hundred other diseases that afflicted the weak. No, he was thankful he was alone. Of course, he thought ruefully, that meant he would die unlamented and unmissed if he didn’t get off this damned ship.
    At least he could move about in the innards of the Suffolk . At first, he and all the others had been chained to the hull, but the chains had pulled away from the rotting wood, and splinters had been used to pick the locks and free the men. The guards made no effort to rechain them. Whatever happened in the dangerous world below decks was none of their business. Live and let live was the guard’s motto, or was it live and let the rebel bastards die?
    He felt it again. The ship was moving, trembling, groaning. What the hell was happening? The others were talking nervously. The ship shuddered, this time strongly, and a couple of the men who were standing fell down.
    Will dropped to his knees as the ship slowly began to tilt towards the river. A loud sound like a screaming animal was heard as rotten wood gave way. On deck he heard the guards yelling and running around in confusion. It dawned on him—the Suffolk was falling apart and capsizing.
    The list grew worse and the ship shook violently as the sounds grew louder. Prisoners began to scream as they recognized their peril. Suddenly, the ship fractured herself and Will glimpsed the blessed glare of sunlight before torrents of green water rushed in through the hole. As others ran from the gaping hole in