War 1812

by Michael Aye

  At that time, Anastasia leaned forward again, kissing the cut on Jonah’s face. Explain to the general, he thought. Well, I will…later; much later.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The general held officer’s call that evening at his headquarters. There was more than enough food and wine to sate everyone’s appetite and thirst. Jonah seemed to have gained a degree of respect from some of the officers who thus far had known him as Armstrong’s man or the president’s man. Hampton had smoothed the way with the general by painting LeRoche not only as a traitor but a rapist.

  Colonel Mentor Johnson was also on Jonah’s side, adding to his daring do, by pointing out Jonah’s bravery during several clashes with the Indians.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear that ‘un was from Kaintuck,” Governor Shelby commented. For him, this was high praise, indeed.

  Several toasts were drunk before General Harrison finally called the officers to attention. Without a specific plan of action laid out, he stated they would move out the following morning at daybreak. When asked about the lack of a specific battle plan, the general replied in a testy manner, “You have to catch the enemy before you lay out a plan of battle, Colonel. Once we are close, we will send out a reconnaissance and then make our plans accordingly.”

  Jonah didn’t know the colonel personally but felt sorry for the man who had been brave or foolish enough, whichever the case may be, to ask what everyone else wanted to ask. It was by accident that Jonah picked up a slight nod by Edmond Gaines, the adjutant general. Following his gaze, Jonah realized the colonel must be one of Gaines’ officers.

  Gaines had made a name for himself at the Battle of Cryslers Farm. He was a man of distinction and would brook little abuse of one of his officers regardless of who it was from. He had been one of the first to congratulate Jonah on such a gallant display of swordsmanship.

  With the only significant information being they’d march at sunrise, Jonah quickly tired of the small talk and waited until the general was distracted. He then slipped out a side door. As he made his way down the hall toward the back porch, he was called by Hampton.

  “I would have thought you’d be having your wounds tended by some dark-haired beauty rather than listening to a bunch of old windbags.”

  This caused Jonah to chuckle, but he couldn’t help but glance about to make sure some of those ‘old windbags’ hadn’t heard. Smiling, Jonah again thanked Hampton for all his support. The two men shook hands and then said goodnight.

  As Jonah entered the cabin, Moses was propped back in a chair eating a chicken leg. One he’d stolen from the general’s kitchen, no doubt. Jonah then noted two bottles of wine sitting on the little table.

  Moses rocked his chair forward and stood up, “Took you long enough.”

  “Why do you say that?” Jonah asked.

  Moses rolled his eyes but didn’t speak. He picked up the bottle of wine that was still corked, grabbed his long rifle and said, “Come on. I’ve already got the horses saddled.” Neither spoke as they headed down the street.

  “Where are we going?” Jonah asked finally.

  “Don’t try to be coy with me, Jonah. You know where we are going. I wouldn’t doubt that young lady ain’t already in bed by now, though.”

  “Why are you going?” Jonah inquired, excited by the prospect of seeing Anastasia but not wanting any company.

  “Don’t worry,” Moses muttered. “I won’t interfere with your sparkin’ none. I’m just going to sit outside and make sure no one else interferes.”

  “Thank you, my friend,” Jonah said, putting his hand on Moses’ arm as they rode on.

  The door was quickly answered when Jonah knocked. “I’ve been wondering when you’d come,” Anastasia said softly as she closed the door. She sat the bottle of wine on a table. As she turned, Jonah could see she wore a lavender gown, cut low in the front so that a goodly portion of cleavage was visible; the sight was breathtaking.

  Jonah followed her into a small sitting room. Anastasia sat on a couch and patted the space next to her indicating where Jonah was to sit. Her elbows at her side and her hands in her lap, Anastasia looked at Jonah’s eyes. Deep into his eyes so that she seemed to peer right through into his very soul. Reaching over, Jonah took hold of her arm and pulled her to him. She responded with unashamed passion and they clung together. Her breasts were pushing into his chest, their mouths as one in a long, enduring kiss that had them both gasping for breath.

  Jonah had been without a woman for many months, and the passionate kiss roused him almost beyond control. Anastasia had him almost to the edge of his control. Each caress, each kiss more insatiable and demanding than the one before. Jonah reached to undo her dress.

  Anastasia broke free and said, “Not here.” She took his hand and led him into her bedroom.

  A small candle flickered on the table by her bed. Jonah sat on the edge of the bed and reached out but Anastasia pulled away. Slowly, she loosened a ribbon in her hair. Shaking her head, she let it fall down over her shoulder. Then, in the dim candlelight, she removed the string at her waist and the gown fell open revealing the most perfect breasts Jonah had ever seen. So intent was he at her chest, he failed to note the gown had slid to the floor until the woman was up close again.

  Slowly, she removed his shirt, boots, and britches. The last barrier was down now. All reserve wiped away by the need two people had for one another. Later, the war and even the world seemed so remote. Somewhere in the distance, the rumble of thunder was heard causing Anastasia to snuggle closer. Spent from his passion, Jonah relaxed. He was more at peace than he had been in some time. As he absently curled a lock of Anastasia’s hair, he felt content for the first time in a long time. Another rumble was heard, closer this time.

  Easing up on his elbow pulled at Jonah’s wound, causing him to wince. Anastasia pressed her bare flesh to his chest and kissed each of his wounds, the wetness of a tear dropping on his skin.

  “You’ve suffered. For me, you risk your life.” Her lips found his again. Salty tasting kisses as a result of her tears, but still warm, loving, and passionate.

  As minutes melted into an hour, Jonah whispered, “I have to get up.”

  “I know, it’s just I don’t want this night to end.”

  “I feel the same.”

  As they sat up, Anastasia looked at Jonah and said, “You leave tomorrow.”

  He nodded and then added, “At first light.”

  Watching Jonah dress, Anastasia propped herself up but didn’t cover herself. Sitting on the edge of the bed to put on his boots, Jonah cocked his head and said, “You’re not making it easy for me.”

  “I don’t want it to be.” Jonah smiled at this. Then, in a quivering, trembling voice, she continued, “After tonight, what do I do with my life?”

  Her words seem to tear the heart out of his chest as he leaned over and they embraced.

  “Have you thought of moving south?” he asked.

  Surprise swept over her face. Jonah was even surprised he asked it… but didn’t regret it.

  Before he could change his mind, Jonah continued, “The general will leave a company of soldiers here until we return. That shouldn’t be too long… a week, two at the most. You be ready when I return.”

  A sudden bounce and a nude Anastasia was in his arms. “You mean it, don’t you? Jonah, you really mean it?”

  “Of course I do,” he said, as he popped her bare bottom. “Now get to bed and dream sweet dreams while I round up Moses and get back to headquarters before it rains again.”

  Smiling, Anastasia stood and on tip-toes wrapped her arms around her man and gave him another long kiss, crushing her body into his rough clothing. “I love you,” she whispered.

  “And I you,” Jonah replied, thinking how many times have I said that, but this time I think I mean it.

  Stepping outside, the air
had a nip in it, and there was a breeze blowing. It hadn’t started to rain yet, but you could smell it in the air. Moses was sitting on a rail fence surrounding a small lean-to. Someone had built it for a horse, mule, or maybe even a milk cow. It was all but down now. Something a man could fix but a chore not likely undertaken by a woman… not without help.

  “Sorry to take so long,” Jonah apologized to his friend.

  “You needed it,” Moses replied. “Didn’t deserve it,” he joked, “but you needed it.”

  “Hush, you old scoundrel,” Jonah hissed.

  Both men were smiling as they rode to the camp. A soldier, standing guard at the entrance of the headquarters, waved as the two men rode around the corner of the house to the backyard, stable, and their cabin.

  Once the horses were cared for, Moses built a fire in the cabin’s small fireplace. He reached for the bottle of wine and asked about a glass before bed.

  “Might as well, we never opened the other bottle,” Jonah replied. “Oh well, something for her to remember me by.”

  “You,” Moses snorted. “I’m the one who took it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  A knock at the door surprised Jonah and Moses. It was Clay Gesslin and James Hampton. Moses let them in and offered what was left of the wine.

  “No thanks,” Hampton said, declining the wine. It was obvious he had important news. “We have just had one of my men return with news of Proctor,” he said, getting right to the point. “My man says Proctor was fit to be tied after hearing Perry defeated Barclay. In fact, his words were…” Hampton paused, as he pulled a paper from his coat, unfolded it and read, “The loss of the fleet is a most calamitous circumstance. I do not see the least chance of occupying to advantage my present position, which can be so easily turned by means of the entire command of the waters here which the enemy now has, a circumstance that would render my Indian force very inefficient. It is my opinion that I should retire on the Thames without delay…”

  “So it’s to be the Thames,” Jonah said excited.

  “That it is. General Harrison plans to march at daybreak, only now we have a destination.”

  “What about the militia?” Jonah asked.

  They had balked when Hull had wanted to push on into Canada. After the River Raisin massacre the militia was now ready to ride to hell and back if need be to get revenge for the brutal way their comrades had been slaughtered after surrendering to the British.

  The early morning light was creeping over the horizon. The clouds were gray and would remain so as a light drizzle fell. The smell of charred wood drifted on the air from across the river where in Detroit the British had burned down two hundred or so buildings.

  General Harrison in his rain-soaked uniform was at the head of the column. He motioned for Jonah to join him as they rode into the dreary day. He suddenly seemed a different man.

  “Well, Jonah, we finally know where the enemy is so we march to victory or death. Does that not stir your soul?”

  “Hopefully, it will be victory without the latter,” Jonah answered with a smile.

  “Quite right, my man.”

  Keeping with the precedent he had established by leaving a brigade behind to garrison Detroit and Fort Malden, Harrison did the same at Sandwich. The garrison was left under the command of Lewis Cass, who spit and spewed about being left behind but to no avail.

  Jonah quietly took Cass aside and asked if he would keep his eye on Anastasia for him. With LeRoche dead, she should be safe but one never knew.

  With a grin spreading across his face, Cass replied, “I will be glad to keep my eye on her.”

  Jonah thanked him and started to go but wheeled around, catching the hidden meaning behind Cass’ words. “Keep your eye on her, huh,” Jonah said.

  Cass chuckled in spite of himself. “Don’t worry, Jonah, we will keep her safe for you.”

  Commodore Perry had sailed the Ariel and Caledonia as close to the shore as he dared. His ships could go no further. However, determined not to be left out of the overland pursuit of the British, he had borrowed a white horse and now rode on General Harrison’s right.

  After an hour’s march, the land started to change. Colonel Johnson rode forward and recommended his mounted rifles take the point. The general accepted the recommendation with a mere nod.

  Wheeling his horse around, the colonel asked, “Care to join us, Mr. Lee.?”

  Hesitating, Jonah turned to General Harrison. He did not want to insult the general after being invited to ride beside him. Finally, the urge was too strong.

  “With your permission, General,” he said.

  “Go ahead, Jonah, onward to glory.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Jonah waited till Johnson’s mounted rifles were abreast, and then with a wave to the general, fell in beside Captain Gesslin and galloped off.

  The mounted rifles tore through the sodden countryside, their horses splashing muddy water from potholes. The infantry had a much more difficult time of it trying to pass through the quagmire left behind by the mounted rifles horses. The rain that had begun to fall on the day Harrison’s forces occupied Sandwich, continued to fall off and on.

  “At least we won’t die of thirst,” Major David Thompson volunteered to Jonah.

  “Might get a bit chilly, though,” Jonah replied as he tugged at his sodden clothes.

  It was proving to be a hard march. The army followed the river road toward Saint Claire. Moses eased up beside Jonah and said, “You see all these deserted farms?” Jonah nodded. Moses continued, “Fine looking farms, all deserted due to this war. Crops wasting, cows running about, and people’s lives ruined. It’s sad,” he said, shaking his head.

  Jonah nodded again, his thoughts back with the woman he’d just left.

  Recognizing Jonah’s mind was elsewhere, Moses said, “You better get your mind off that girl until this here fighting is over. There’ll be time enough for you to go mooning after we whip the Redcoats.”

  These comments did bring a smile to Jonah, but still he didn’t speak. The two had been together long enough for Moses to know it would do no good to push.

  Johnson’s mounted rifles reached Saint Claire and set up a perimeter.

  “This will be as good a place as any for the infantry to take a breather,” Lieutenant Colonel James Johnson spoke to his sons, Edward and William.

  They went to their horses and returned with a coffee pot, coffee, and some dry kindling. If they get a fire going, the hot coffee would be invigorating, Jonah thought. Seeing what the boys were at, Moses dismounted and took the two boys in tow directing them to a deserted shed. It had a stoop where the pole on the right had rotted and fallen away so that it canted significantly.

  “We could prop up that side,” Edward volunteered.

  “We might,” Moses agreed, “then again that could bring the whole blasted thing down on our ears. It’ll give us shelter enough to get a fire going and the coffee boiling. If we are to tarry after we have our coffee, then we can try shoring it up a bit.”

  The two boys agreed, with William saying, “Couldn’t get but three or four under there even if it was fixed up.”

  The men rested and drank their coffee along with what spirits had been smuggled to aid against the rain and cold. Mounting his horse, Colonel Mentor Johnson moaned “Damnable weather has me aching all over.”

  “Me as well,” his brother added.

  Hearing a noise, the group turned to see General Harrison’s infantry arriving. The roads were nothing but ruts of mud, but still they had made good time.

  “We left the fires banked for you, General,” Johnson volunteered as he saluted Harrison.

  Nodding, Harrison thanked the colonel and ordered a rest as he dismounted. Thinking of his time aboard ship with the commodore, Jonah greeted Perry.

  “That horse is a might tougher on the bottom tha
n a ship’s quarterdeck, isn’t it, Commodore?”

  Smiling, Perry dismounted and pulled at his sodden trousers. “Well, you won’t get saddle sores on board ship and that’s no error.”

  “Huh…” Jonah mused. “So we are not likely to see you resign your naval commission and join the army?” This brought a chuckle from the group.

  Perry eyed Jonah and smiling said, “Touché.”

  “With your leave, General, we’ll resume our forward position,” Colonel Johnson said, itching to be moving along. Harrison nodded and saluted but didn’t speak. Wheeling his horse, the colonel spoke to his officers, “Move ’em out, gentlemen.”

  For the next several miles the country grew more barren and less settled, with marshes stretching as far as one could see. The mounted rifles had only ridden for half an hour when Sergeant Wilcox, who was with the detail riding point, galloped up.

  “Captain Sympson’s compliments, sir. We appear to be catching up with stragglers from the British column.”

  This was good news indeed. Speaking to his brother, he said, “Send William back to the general with my dispatch.”

  Colonel Mentor Johnson’s secretary, Major W.T. Barry, held his cloak and hat over the pad on which the colonel scribbled a quick note. Folding the note, he handed it to his brother’s youngest son. “Get this to the general as fast as you can, William, but don’t kill your horse getting there.”

  “Yes sir,” the boy replied, excited that he was being trusted with such an important errand but nervous about going alone.

  Seeing the boy’s conflict of emotion, Moses spoke, “If the colonel doesn’t mind, I’ll ride back with the boy and keep him company.”

  Relief flooded the boy’s face, but Moses didn’t miss the nod and thank you Lieutenant Colonel James Johnson mouthed.

  As the two men spurred their horses away, Colonel Mentor Johnson spoke again, “Let’s close with the point. Be ready with your weapons but don’t cock them. I don’t want to lose anybody from some accident.”