War 1812

by Michael Aye

“I wouldn’t know for certain, sir,” Todd replied, then looked about to see if anyone was watching or within hearing distance. Seeing no one, Todd leaned forward and spoke; his voice barely above a whisper. “With the amount of food and strong spirits that has been ordered, sir, I can hardly see any battle plans being set in place. Might be hard enough to reset a cork.”

  This brought a smile from both Jonah and Moses. “I’ll think on it, Captain. Moses and I need to find quarters first and Captain Hampton informed me there was mail and dispatches waiting.”

  “Yes sir, they are.” Then, leaning toward Jonah, Todd lowered his voice again, “It appears there are letters from Washington, sir. From both the secretary of war and the president.” A smile crept across Todd’s face as he continued, “The general was about to bust a gut with curiosity when he learned about the letters.”

  “Learned from whom, Captain?” Jonah asked, with firmness in his voice.

  “I dunno, Mr. Lee. That’s the God’s honest truth. Whoever told him had left when I came in.”

  Jonah softened a bit, seeing how nervous his question had made Todd. “Well, Captain, if you will be so kind, would you go fetch my mail? Moses and I still have to find quarters and this rain doesn’t appear to be letting up.”

  “Yes sir. Oh, Mr. Lee, behind the main house is a small building that was used by the servants when Colonel Baby occupied this… ah, dwelling.”

  “I see. We’ll look at it. Now for my mail.”

  “Yes sir.”

  When Todd returned with a courier pouch with the Presidential Seal emblazoned on it, Jonah couldn’t help but muse. No wonder Harrison was about to bust a gut. Todd handed him several other letters as well. One of which he recognized right off as being from his mother.

  Handing the mail to Jonah, Todd led him and Moses down a hall and out a rear door onto a covered back porch. The rain was still pouring down; the water gushing off the roof like Niagara Falls. The backyard was already like a lake.

  “Wet shoes for sure,” Moses muttered. “Not that it’ll matter, as we’ll likely drown getting to the little cottage.”

  Todd bid the two a good afternoon but stopped when Jonah laid his hand on his shoulder.

  “Am I to understand, Captain, the place is ready to be used? Beds, blankets, candles, a stove or fireplace, and wood?”

  “Well, sir, I was told it was.”

  Gazing at the sky and pouring rain, Jonah said, “I’ll not be happy if I get soaked running to yonder quarters and find it to be in need.”

  Swallowing hard, the captain said, “I’ll be right back, sir.”

  When he returned, he had his slicker on, and a rolled up blanket. A candle could be seen protruding from one end of the blanket. As Todd dashed off the porch, Moses turned to go back inside.

  “Where are you going?” Jonah inquired.

  “We passed a kitchen. I’m going to see what is to be had. No use going out again in this, unless we have to.” Moses returned with a heavy sack that clinked.

  “I see you’ve found beverage as well.”

  “Man should not eat bread alone,” Moses replied.

  Out in the cabin, a dim light was visible through one of the windows. The door opened spilling more light into the yard. Todd, with his cloak up over his head, paused in the doorway momentarily. Seeing no let up in the downpour, he gathered up his nerve and made a dash for the back porch where Jonah and Moses stood. As Todd neared the porch, a cat that had been under the porch floor must have smelled the food in Moses’ sack. The cat meowed and jumped to the steps just as Todd’s boot hit the bottom plank. Frightened, the cat let out a startled screech. The screech caused Todd to try to stop but his boot slid on the wet step causing him to fall backwards. With nothing to grab on to he landed with a splat. The deluge off the roof poured on to the prostrate man’s midsection.

  “Damn that cat,” he sputtered as Jonah rushed to his aid.

  “Are you all right, Captain?”

  Slowly, Todd rose up. “Right enough to kill that cat, Mr. Lee.”

  Looking toward the porch the cat could not be seen. “Jumped off the porch,” Moses volunteered.

  Helping Todd back on the porch, Jonah pulled at his soggy clothing.

  “I’m sorry you got wet, sir,” Todd apologized, still looking the worse from his spill. “If you have no further need of me, I will go change my uniform.” Pools of water were gathering at the captain’s feet from the soaked uniform.

  “Were I you, Captain, I’d take off the uniform out here,” Jonah advised. “Otherwise, you are sure to track up the floor.”

  “I’ll go get a blanket,” Moses volunteered, still holding the bag of food firmly.

  “Thank you sir, that would be most kind,” Todd responded, shivering now that the air was getting cooler.

  Once the captain was taken care of, Jonah looked over to Moses. “Ready,” he said.

  Moses bent over and picked up the captain’s forgotten cloak. As he pulled it over his shoulders and head, he said, “Ready.”

  Glaring at his friend, Jonah sarcastically asked, “What makes you so special that you get the cloak?”

  Moses smiled and quipped, “Cause you’re already wet.”

  Then before Jonah could speak, Moses bounded off the porch and ran to what he called the little cottage. Staring at his friend’s back, Jonah sighed and took off after him.

  The little cottage was snug and dry. The captain had lit a small fire to help remove the dampness. The kindling was fresh, but the firewood had been there for awhile. Dust could be seen everywhere. Over in the corner, somebody had piled their bedrolls and possible bag. Jonah stripped down to his long-handles and pulled a chair up close to the fire. His boots sat on the hearth to one side, while his sodden clothes, which were draped over a straight-back chair steamed from the fireplace heat.

  “Do you reckon they will be ready to wear tomorrow?” Jonah asked.

  Moses looked through the small doorway from the kitchen. Seeing the steam rising off the clothes, he chuckled and replied, “If they ain’t shrunk.”

  Paying heed to Moses’ comments, Jonah slid the chair back a foot or so. Moses had found dishes in a cupboard and piled two plates high with chicken, fresh bread, and cheese. Handing Jonah a plate, he set the other on a chair next to Jonah’s and then went back into the kitchen, returning with two glasses and a bottle of wine.

  Seating himself, he looked over at Jonah and said, “There is plenty if you need more, plus there’s a cherry pie if you’ve a taste for sweets after.”

  A piece of chicken was halfway to his mouth when Jonah paused. “Did you leave any for the general’s supper?” When he didn’t hear a reply, Jonah turned to Moses with a look and said, “Well?”

  Moses finished chewing, swallowed, and then took a swallow of wine to wash his food down. “I really wasn’t thinking of the general but there should be enough. If not, he’s got servants.” Pausing, a twinkle filled Moses’ eyes and he spoke again, “Course, now if you’re worried, you can pack up what is left and take it back to the kitchen.”

  When Jonah didn’t reply, Moses said, “Well?”

  Jonah yawned, got up from his chair and stretched. The fire was low so he threw another insect eaten piece of firewood on the fire. He took his boots off the hearth and turned his clothes over. They were almost dry now. Hearing a familiar sound, he turned. Moses was asleep on one of the small beds. The heat, full belly, and a couple of glasses of wine had him out… snoring, but out. Jonah walked over to the door and looked out. The rain had slacked up some but had not stopped. He felt a chill as a small breeze blew the damp cold air through the open doorway. Closing the door quickly, Jonah walked back over to the fire.

  The sudden chill seemed to punctuate Armstrong’s letter. He didn’t seem pleased that the British had not been brought to a conclusive battle. Winter was setting in, and the Amer
icans needed the northwest retaken before winter. The president had encouraged Jonah to use his authority to gently push at every opportunity. Jonah couldn’t help but wonder who else was supplying information back to Washington. Was it Colonel Richard Mentor Johnson? He was known in Congress as a war hawk. Was Johnson sending private dispatches? Was he receiving private dispatches? Thinking back when Clay Gesslin had introduced Jonah to James Hampton, they let it slip Hampton would speak to Johnson before reporting to General Harrison.

  Feeling his eyes grow heavy, Jonah placed another small stick of firewood on the fire then crawled into bed. Sleep was elusive, however. His mind was still on his letters. The secretary of war was concerned about the British influence in the south. Armstrong had mentioned in his letter of trouble in the south… Indian trouble. Problems with the Red Sticks or the Creeks as some called them. They were playing havoc among the settlers. The folks in Alabama were in need of help but with the war ongoing in the northwest, the ability to send help was limited.

  If the British could be quickly defeated in the northwest, then resources could be funneled to the south. Trying to not worry about his home, Jonah rolled over. His last thoughts were, I wonder if John Armstrong has bitten off more than he bargained for accepting the office of Secretary of War. Then, as an afterthought, he wondered, what have I gotten myself into?

  Chapter Nineteen

  A break in the rain came at dawn the next morning. Moses was first out of bed, so he added some kindling to the few remaining coals in the fireplace. Soon a small tendril of smoke started rising, then flames. Once the kindling was going good, Moses added a few sticks of firewood. The box holding the firewood was low. If they stayed tonight it would have to be replenished. It would be a good trick to find dry firewood after the gully washer they had last evening. Maybe they had a woodshed. Putting on his boots, Moses looked to the sleeping figure still in his bed.

  “Get up, lazy bones.” Getting both boots on, Moses shook Jonah’s bed, “Get up!”

  “Why?”

  “Cause I’m going to get some coffee.”

  “All right.”

  As Moses turned to go, he saw the letters on a small table. The candle was down to not much more than a nub. Jonah had been up going over the letters from home.

  Turning his attention back to the bed, Moses shook it hard. Jonah quickly spoke, “I’m getting up.”

  Moses smiled and asked, “Everybody at home making out?”

  “They’ve got their ailments but didn’t mention anything worrisome.”

  Now, Moses chuckled. You didn’t ask Mama Lee how she was doing unless you had a good half hour. Saying no more, Moses ducked out the door and Jonah rose. The room was cool compared to the warm bed. Standing by the fireplace, he dressed hurriedly. His boots were tight-fitting from drying out next to the fire the last evening. Hopefully, they would stretch out without having to wet them.

  A bump at the door was heard. Opening it, Jonah found Moses waiting with his hands full. Helping his friend, Jonah was awed at how much Moses had carried. He had a plate with eggs and bacon, another with butter biscuits, a jar of grape preserves, and a pot of coffee. Moses had always had a knack as a forager. “It’s the Indian in him,” Jonah’s father had once said. “Good thieves, all of them.”

  Smiling, as he recalled his father’s words, Jonah had to think quickly when Moses asked, “What are you smiling about?”

  “This breakfast,” Jonah replied. “It would be hard for a wife to compete with you, Moses.”

  “Huh! Some thangs wouldn’t be no competition. Sides, as lazy as you are, ain’t likely you’d find a woman who’d have you; not for long, anyway.”

  Biting into a butter biscuit, Jonah asked, “You see anybody? Are they up and moving?”

  “The cook said the general had just left. Say’s everyone has to be on hand for the firing squad.”

  Neither spoke for a moment or two when Moses broke the silence. “Glad I ain’t in the army on days like this.”

  Nodding his agreement, Jonah took a sip of coffee. So was he.

  After breakfast, Jonah and Moses loaded all the dishes in the empty sack Moses had used the previous evening and carried them to the kitchen. Several cats ran across the muddy yard, so Jonah dumped the few scraps they had for them. His feet ached from his tight boots.

  “I think I’ll take a walk to see if I can stretch these boots,” Jonah said as Moses climbed the steps to the back porch.

  Nodding, Moses went into the house. He’d check for firewood after he gave the dishes to the cook.

  In the distance, the unmistakable drum roll was heard. It was followed by the report of rifles fired in unison. It’s done, Jonah thought. What kind of letter would be written to this man’s family?

  The sun was starting to peek through the clouds and rays glared off the river in spots. Having the upcoming battle with the British on his mind and thinking of the Indian troubles in Alabama, Jonah walked further than he realized. It must be mid-morning, he thought as he turned to make his way back toward Sandwich. He had followed the river bank as he walked but decided it would be closer to walk back through town. The houses were mostly of frame, but toward the center of town, Jonah could see a few brick dwellings. As he walked down the main street, he heard a curse, a slapping sound, and a woman scream. Jonah paused for a second and then heard another scream from inside a small house that was in front of him.

  Jumping over a small fence, he entered an open door. A woman was being attacked. Her attacker had his back to Jonah. As the man raised his hand to strike the woman again, Jonah grabbed it, spinning the man around and slapping him. The force of the blow sent the man to the floor. Surprised, the man touched his stinging face and then made a motion to pull his sword. The click of the hammer being pulled back on Jonah’s pistol made the man freeze.

  “You have me at a disadvantage, sir,” he spat but made no attempt to rise.

  “As you had the lady,” Jonah replied.

  “She deserved what she got and more,” the man hissed. “She’s nothing but a British tart.”

  “Liar… you lying scum,” the woman threw back.

  “I had no choice. You… you ran and hid in the woods.”

  The man started to speak again, but Jonah shouted, “That’s enough.” Then, looking at the man, he motioned with his pistol to get up.

  Still touching his stinging face, the man said, “You will pay for this.”

  “By whom?” Jonah exclaimed. “A man who slaps around defenseless women. I think not.”

  “But she is a traitorous bit…” the man’s sentence was broke off as Jonah’s pistol was jammed into his face.

  “Don’t say it,” Jonah warned.

  Hatred filled the man’s blazing eyes, but he was not foolish enough to finish his sentence. The two glared at each other for a moment. Finally, Jonah lowered the pistol.

  “You have insulted me,” the man spoke calmly, the hint of a French accent in his voice.

  “As you have the lady,” Jonah flung back.

  Whatever went through the man’s mind remained unspoken until he took a deep breath and bowed. “My name is Jacques LeRoche. I demand satisfaction. If you are a gentleman, you will know what I mean.”

  “I know what you mean,” Jonah replied, disgust in his voice. “As I see it, the lady is the one who has been insulted. Any man who would strike a lady is totally without honor and could hardly be called a gentleman.”

  LeRoche, hearing this, gasped with fury and once again his hand went to the hilt of his sword.

  “Go ahead,” Jonah snapped. “Pull that blade and I’ll shoot you down like the dog you are.”

  Taking several deep breaths, LeRoche said, “Where will my second be able to find you?

  “Do you know of Colonel Baby’s house?” Jonah asked.

  “I do.”

  “I will be ther
e. If you insist upon this, your man had better be there soon,” Jonah said, “as I’m not sure when we will march.”

  “He will be there within the hour.”

  “I will be waiting.”

  Once the man left, the woman said, “I thank you, sir, but you don’t know what you have done. LeRoche is a ruthless man. He has killed many men with both his pistol and his blade.”

  “I could not allow him to hit you,” Jonah said, suddenly feeling tired, now that the anger had subsided.

  “He would have beaten me… but he will kill you, sir.”

  “I think not,” Jonah replied, wishing he felt as sure as he spoke. “Now, gather a few of your things. I’m not going to leave you here for him to harm you.”

  The woman quickly gathered a few belongings and the two of them made their way back to the headquarters. The first person Jonah saw was Captain Todd.

  “Good morning, Captain.”

  “And to you, sir,” the young man replied, his eyes taking in the beautiful woman next to Jonah.

  Seeing the obvious look of desire fill the young officer’s face, Jonah realized he’d been so preoccupied, he’d not really looked at the woman.

  “Is Moses about, Captain?”

  “I’ve not seen him, sir.”

  “I see…Well, Captain, would you loan me your sergeant for a quick errand?”

  “Yes sir, I will see if he’s about. If not, will the corporal do?”

  “Either will do, Captain. Just send one of the two to my quarters.”

  A smile was now on the captain’s face. Jonah had started down the hall toward the back. Seeing the smile, he stopped.

  “Wait here,” he said to the woman, and then he retraced his steps to where the captain still stood. Leaning forward, he whispered, “Close your mouth, Captain, you are drooling.”

  Turning red, Todd closed his mouth.

  “I was only joking,” Jonah said.

  “Ah…” Todd started but didn’t finish. He did relax though.

  “Any word on marching orders?” Jonah asked.