Bunker Hill [Paperback]

Fictionalizing the experiences of British commanders, loyalists to the crown and a motley collection of American revolutionaries, Fast ( Citizen Tom Paine ; Spartacus ) fashions this dramatic look at a week of profound tension that will erupt in historic carnage at the Battle of Bunker Hill. In June 1775, some six weeks after the armed clashes at Lexington and Concord, the British have increased their force in Boston under General Howe as thousands of disorganized colonial troops gather nearby. At the center of Fast's story stands Evan Feversham, an English surgeon who has married an American and made a fresh start in Connecticut. Having volunteered to aid the revolutionaries, the doctor finds himself at the heart of their preparations for battle. Fast portrays key colonial figures largely through the eyes of Feversham, who, though amazed and frightened by the seeming chaos of the Yankees, ultimately comes to admire their character and leadership. Meanwhile, Howe and the rest of the British command are depicted as complacent and scarcely more unified or prepared than the colonials, spending much of their time seducing other men's wives and arguing among themselves. While the narrative is rarely subtle, neither is it melodramatic. Fast's accomplished storytelling draws the reader ever faster into the turmoil and ekes genuine suspense from events whose outcome is a matter of historical fact. Maps not seen by PW. 35,000 first printing.
Copyright 1994 Reed Business Information, Inc. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

In June 1775, a British army of 3000 men is bottled up in Boston by several thousand Colonial militia. The British leaders seem more concerned with sex than suppressing rebellion, and the Colonial leaders wrangle with one another while their men drift home to harvest summer grass. The erection of a redoubt atop Breed's Hill changes everything. The British are forced to attack, and by underestimating their foe they suffer terrible losses. The Colonial defenders, outnumbered, without adequate munitions, and with the bulk of their army lacking resolve, are driven off Charlestown neck. But in defeat they have achieved a moral victory and have made inevitable a full-scale war between the American Colonies and England. Seven Days in June is very readable pop history, but as a novel it is not as involving as Fast's minor masterpiece April Morning (1961).
Charles Michaud, Turner Free Lib., Randolph, Mass.
Copyright 1994 Reed Business Information, Inc. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

A historical novel trapped in the body of a bodice-ripper that will leave both history buffs and steamy sex aficionados unsatisfied. Fast (The Trial of Abigail Goodman, 1993, etc.) has written over 80 books. Eight of his novels are based on events of the American Revolution, and this latest one focuses on the Battle of Bunker Hill. The pivotal early confrontation on the Charleston Peninsula outside of Boston was a bloody disaster for the British and signaled the determination of the makeshift army of ordinary citizens. The Continental Congress had yet to appoint George Washington as commander of the American forces, and there was as yet no standing army, just a ragtag group of volunteers led by an equally ragtag number of men from various nonmilitary backgrounds. Here, much of the battle is seen from the point of view of Dr. Evan Feversham, a former Englishman who has joined the rebels. Once the book finally reaches the battlefield, there are brief moments of gripping drama: The courage of the outmanned and betrayed Americans facing the world's most formidable army is well rendered, although there is a tedious repetitiveness to much of the action. A bigger problem is that more than half the book focuses on the sexual proclivities of the British commanders, especially on General William Howe's attraction to a married American woman with ``breasts overflowing her bodice.'' While Fast uses the trysts to show the arrogance of the British leaders, a disproportionate amount of time (most of it dull) is spent on them and not on the actual (and much more interesting) battle. The whole novel has a slipshod, slapdash feel, cluttered with hurried, lazy characterizations (``a large, fat, and brawny seaman''). Like some hybrid animal, half fish, half rodent, whatever it is, it doesn't fly. (Illustrated with maps, not seen) (First printing of 35,000) -- Copyright ©1994, Kirkus Associates, LP. All rights reserved. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

"Howard Fast is fiercely American, he is one of ours, one of our very best."
-The Los Angeles Times

One battle will determine the fate of Boston

Three thousand soldiers from the world's greatest army are cornered in Boston, surrounded by farmers and doctors turned rebel soldiers and generals. For a week both sides are at an impasse, until June 17, 1775, when the standstill comes to a violent, bloody end on Breed's and Bunker hills.
In Bunker Hill, master storyteller Howard Fast recounts the unlikely battle that changed the course of the Revolutionary War forever. Tensions rise among both the British and Colonial soldiers as political and tactical frustrations, dissent, confusion, and fear threaten to tear both sides apart before the fighting even begins.

"Fast is at his best as Storyteller."
-Christian Science Monitor

Born in 1914, Howard Fast published over 53 novels, including numerous New York Times bestsellers. His most famous novels included Spartacus, Freedom Road, Citizen Tom Paine, April Morning, The Crossing, The Unvanquished, My Glorious Brothers, and the three generation family saga beginning with The Immigrants. Nineteen of his works became movies.

June 12

Merton knew the rat; the rat knew Merton. For five months they had lived together in the stinking hold of the frigate, and during those five months they had measured and developed a healthy respect for each other. Merton had a commendable and profound knowledge of rats. They had shared living space with him since his memory began, on land as well as at sea. And the rat had also developed a commendable knowledge of Merton. The rat was very large, and Merton was small, only five feet two inches in height; they were both intelligent, ingenious, and agile. Merton simply had the advantage in being a man. As a man, he was determined to kill the rat. The rat, being a rat, was only determined to remain alive.

The rat was gray, with a white face and white paws, which identified him specifically and was finally his undoing, since it turned Merton's animosity against all rats into a single direction. Merton devised traps, poisoned bait, and laid ambushes, and all of it failed. Finally, on the twelfth of June, in the year 1775, luck and the mysterious workings of doom coincided. The rat ventured onto the gun deck. Merton happened to have a marlinspike in his hand. He let go with the spike and caught the rat squarely and stunned him, which gave Merton a chance to bash in the rat's head.

Dancing a small dance of victory, Merton held up the enormous rat for his shipmates to see. "Now if this ain't the biggest bleeding son of a bitch that ever lived, then I am a dick's udder! I said I'd get the bastard, and I got him!"

"You bloody well got him," they agreed.

"Weighs three pounds if he weighs an ounce."

"And what are you going to do with the little bastard, Merton?"

Merton smirked and stared from face to face at his grinning shipmates. "Now what am I going to do with him? And wouldn't you like to know?" Out with his knife. He gutted the animal, tore out its entrails, and flung them over the side into the water of Boston Harbor. Then, quickly and expertly, disregarding the pool of blood at his feet, he beheaded the rat and skinned it.

"Looks like a bleeding hare, don't it?"

"Looks like a rat to me."

"Cook it up and eat it, Merton. It'll taste better than rotten salt pork."

Merton wiped his knife on his pants and grinned.

"And get a bucket of water and wash down the deck," said the bosun.

"Ah, that I will, bosun. That I will."

His mates lost interest and wandered away. After he had washed down the deck, Merton took the rat's body into the galley. The cooks were at the bow fishing, the galley was empty except for a scullery boy, and Merton told him to keep a still tongue in his head. Grinning and chuckling, the scullery boy watched Merton butcher the rat and drop it into a pot of soup that was simmering for the officers' mess.

Few enough liked Merton. He had a mean, tortured, shrunken soul, and he lived a mean, tortured, shrunken life. The scullery boy hated him, and the captain's coxswain hated him, but since the scullery boy hated the captain as well, he waited until after the captain's dinner before he informed the coxswain of Merton's addition to the soup pot.

The coxswain communicated the news to the first officer, and Merton was duly reprimanded. He was bound to a mast to receive fifty lashes across his skinny back.