The Evening Gun: Volume three in War of 1812 Trilogy

by William H. White

  Sarah, I can tell you I was some stunned when we got there; wasn’t a soul to be seen! It was like the whole city was a ghost-ship. Nary a body anywhere and the buildings and streets empty. Doors stood open and it seemed like a lot of people’s belongings was just layin’ about everywhere – in the streets, outside homes and shops, all over the place. We finally found some cove – Tingey, I think his name was, a captain – at the Navy Yard. His clerk had pretty well emptied most of the arms and munitions and took them out of the city and he had a few men ready to torch the vessels and buildings there in the yard. Said he’d been ordered to do that to keep the British from getting them. Just like the commodore had us do to the flotilla over to Pig Point. We heard the enemy had entered the city sometime after supper and the captain, well, he just set off the fires and powder charges all over the Yard. They was a frigate there – a fine looking one almost done building called the USS Essex – and a smaller ship, USS Argus, a sloop of war what went up in the flames. A real pity it were, Sarah, to see them fine vessels burning afore they ever got to sea. When we put the torch to the rope walk close by the Navy Yard, it made a blaze like I never seen afore. Flames must have reached high as the frigate’s main t’gallant pole. And hot. There was one ship in the Navy Yard we couldn’t get to take the fire; the New York frigate – she was built back during the time we was fighting the Frenchies – right around 1800, somebody told me. From a distance, she looked right pretty setting there, but close up, she was as rotten and waterlogged as any I ever seen. Probably why she wouldn’t burn; she was just too wet in all her timbers.

  The night hadn’t cooled off the air even a little and, with the fires that was burning, the whole place was like being in a oven. And we could see the flames from the other part of the city from the fires the British set. We saw later that they had burnt most of the new buildings – some, like the Capitol building, wasn’t even finished. Reckon they torched the President’s house as well. Some of the folks said that Admiral Cockburn and his officers went in first and ate a meal right there in the President’s dining room! Can you believe that?

  After the new day dawned, the British just kept going, burning everything they hadn’t got around to the night before. They even set more fires in the Navy Yard and finished ruining what we hadn’t done already. They kept it up all the day long until about midway through the afternoon watch – must of been near three o’clock. There was an explosion like I never heard afore. Shook the buildings and the ground as well. We found out later it was the powder stored in the magazine on Greenleaf’s Point, over by Long Bridge and, when it went off, it killed a passel of Redcoats. Can’t say I’m sorry about that!

  About the same time, a storm come through the city like the hurricanes they have in the Indies. Dark as night it were, quick as anything I ever saw, and rain. Rain coming down so hard you couldn’t see anything, and then the wind come so strong a man couldn’t even walk. Put out most of the fires that still burned. And then after a bit, the rain quit and the wind died off. Cooled the air some which was a relief. Everything was turned to mud – all the streets was running water and sticky, sucking mud. Just walking was a trial, I can tell you.

  We could see the camp fires of the British army all night long, burning all around the city. Some of the folks which had come back into Washington was saying the Redcoats was going to start it all up again the next morning and finish what they started, but when the morning come, they was gone! Completely. Nothing left but some of they’s wounded which was being taken care of by an American doctor.

  Word come to us still at the Navy Yard – or what was left of it – to pack up our slops and get us to Baltimore quick as ever we could get there. We didn’t even drag the guns along since it would slow us down too much. We went back through Bladensburg just this morning and I never seen such a sight. Dead Redcoats and more than a few wounded laying all over the roads and fields. Reckon we did some damage to them when we met them there, but it weren’t enough to stop them. Some slaves was out digging graves for them and some others was picking up the wounded ones to take care of them. What a horror it was, Sarah. I never seen such a mess even in ship actions when I was in the Royal Navy. I reckon the butcher’s bill for that fight was bigger than anyone figured.

  I got to stop this now and try to get some sleep. We’re about half way to Baltimore and ain’t seen hide nor hair of the British, so I don’t know what we’ll do when we get there. I was told to take the men and find Commodore Rogers and he’d tell us what to do. Sure hope it don’t have to be fighting on the land again. I seen enough of that to last me the rest of my life!

  I hope you are staying safe and the war ain’t touched you or your kin. I will post this quick as I can and hope I can get back there to Benedict to see you sooner than later.

  Yrs. faithfully,

  Isaac Biggs August 28, 1814

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “Take your men and put ‘em aboard the gunboats you’ll find here and here.” Josiah Eldridge pointed a long manicured finger at different locations on the map he had spread out on the barrel of a cannon while Isaac and Jack looked on. “Until Commodore Rodgers and Captain Porter return from Washington, you’ll have to report to Jared Talbot – he’s got a passel of men and a dozen and more gunboats on both sides of McHenry. I ‘spect he’ll be found in Ridgley’s Cove with more ‘an a few of his vessels. Leastways, that’s where I’d start lookin’ for him.”

  The pinch-faced civilian wiped a hand across his sweating face and tried ineffectively to dry his now dripping hand on his dirty trousers. His shirt was soaked and stained both from the constant sweat and the dirt and mud being moved onto the revetment. It was apparent to the sailors that he took his job most seriously. He squinted at the two captains and raised his brows questioningly to insure their understanding. Both nodded and smiled at the news that their friend was here and then looked out from Federal Hill to orient themselves with the positions on the map. Eldridge cast a glance over Clements’ shoulder to again assure himself that the big dog still showed no interest in him; indeed Carronade had found a patch of shade next to another cannon and was sound asleep, snoring softly.

  The flotillamen had had less success in finding shade but had, to a man, collapsed, exhausted from their forced march and the once again overwhelming heat. Isaac and Jack had led their sailors into Baltimore and, after almost a day lost to their attempt to find “competent authority,” had found Josiah Eldridge in a redoubt atop a hill overlooking the city. He seemed to be knowledgeable and apparently had some authority. He had introduced himself to the sailors as a member of the Committee of Vigilance and Safety.

  Secretary Jones had instructed Isaac to find either David Porter or John Rodgers; both, it turned out, were still in Washington dealing with the British retreat on the Potomac River. The redoubt was one of many surrounding the city and part of a defense perimeter thrown up and reinforced after the word of Washington’s collapse had reached Baltimore. Both the military and the city fathers were determined that their city would not fall, reflecting the feelings of not only the locals but the general populace as well. Mayor Edward Johnson had helped establish the Committee of Vigilance and Safety, the successor to the Committee of Supply, formed in 1813. Its function had been the defense of the city of Baltimore and its newly formed stepchild was designed to augment and assist with the extraordinary measures necessary if the city was to survive the anticipated invasion by the British.

  Manpower was provided at the request of the Committee to complete and increase the modest number of entrenchments designed to protect the city from invasion – unlike its sister city to the south. During the British move on Washington, daily news of the enemy’s progress was monitored carefully in Baltimore; the militia drilled more frequently and in greater number. There were further stimuli to the preparation.

  Indeed, the federal government, after the enemy had withdrawn, had quickly taken a firm hold in the Capital, sent troops under both Rodgers and Porter to deal
with the British ships and marines still on the Potomac, and reshuffled the top of the military hierarchy, naming James Monroe as acting Secretary of War. General Armstrong, who had bungled the job so thoroughly, was sent in disgrace to his home in New York state.

  “You figger the militia gonna stand and fight, sir, or run off like they done in Washington?” Jack had little interest in participating in another rout. “We heard the folks is already talking about the ‘Bladensburg Races’ acause the damn militia and the army run off so fast when the Royal Marines showed up.”

  “It seems to me, Captain…Clements, isn’t it?” Eldridge paused, leaning back against the dirt wall surrounding them and, getting a nod from the one-eared sailor, continued. “The folks here as well as the military units from elsewhere in Maryland and Virginia have gotten some iron in their backbones after hearing what happened in the Capital. I have had no trouble – no trouble at all – in finding sufficient troop strength to man the defensive positions around the city. Additional men are being sent from as far away as Virginia and I am told that the recruiting offices are overwhelmed with volunteers.

  “Commodore Perry will be here with his men along with Commodores Rodgers and Porter from Washington – in a few days, I should think – as soon as they have routed the enemy from the Potomac. I have heard they have with them several hundred sailors from the campaigns on the fresh water as well as some of Porter’s crew from his ill-fated but successful cruise into the Pacific on the Essex frigate.

  “Perry, I have been told, will take responsibility for the naval forces in the harbor. He actually is ordered to the command of USS Java, a frigate of forty-four guns, but she is not yet ready for sea. In fact, her battery is now positioned on several important points around the harbor. Yes indeed, I am hopeful that the enemy will find a quite different attitude when they arrive in Baltimore.”

  “Aye, I’ve heard the folks has finally gotten they’s dander up. Saw a newspaper already calling the attack on Washington ‘a second-rate buccaneering expedition’ that was right spiteful and served no useful purpose for the British. ‘Specially since they didn’t even stay there after they took the city. Reckon it mighta been just what was needed to get the citizens to help out, though. Mayhaps it had the opposite effect than what the damn British thought it would.” Jack was as tired as the rest of the military at the pervasive attitude that ranged from antipathy to hostility on the part of most of the populace. Their cooperation would be a welcome change indeed.

  Isaac looked up from the map he had been studying and after a lengthy survey of the waterfront and those approaches to the city that were visible from their hill, he spoke. “Anybody got an idea ‘bout when the enemy is expected to come here, Mr. Eldridge?”

  “I know you’re concerned about how much time we have to establish the defenses of the city, Captain Biggs, but quite frankly, I have no idea when they might show up. I heard just this morning that they have returned to their ships in Benedict and are headed back down the Patuxent River. That would likely have been yesterday or perhaps the day before.

  “But I have heard nothing about them leaving from the Potomac River. In fact, it was just yesterday I was informed that Captain Porter was maintaining a heavy barrage on the British ships from the new fort at White House, Virginia. What effect they have had is not known, but I would think it likely ain’t something the British would relish. What will they do next? I am afraid I know not, sir.” The hot, sweaty, and grimy civilian paused, shifting his glance between the two captains and the waterfront below them.

  He noticed that some workers had stopped their toils to have a smoke and his face clouded. His glance at Biggs and Clements made it apparent that he had no more time for the flotillamen and already his mind was solving other, more pressing, problems. After a moment, he continued. “I can assure you, however, that we will be quite ready whenever they do show up and give them a reception they’ll not soon forget. Now, if you have no further questions, I must see to other matters.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and strode purposefully away toward the men once again shoveling dirt onto the end of the embankment.

  “Well, I reckon we might as well go find these gunboats he was talkin’ about. Looks like Jared and his men are down there with ‘em, just like they’s s’posed to be. Come on, Carronade. Get your lazy arse up; they’s no time for sleepin’ now.”

  The dog opened one eye and looked at his master. He got up slowly, stretched, shook, and then sat down, his pink tongue lolling from the side of his mouth. Isaac roused the sailors and met with less success, but eventually all hands, man and beast, started down the hill toward the harbor.

  “You reckon they’s ‘spectin’ the gunboats to take on the Royal Navy, Isaac? Seems like a right tall order, you ask me. And that cove said the Java frigate ain’t ready or even manned yet on top of it.” Neither Jake Tate nor Jack’s second in command, Frank Clark, had been privy to all that passed between their captains and Eldridge, but Isaac had told the men the good news that they would be back on their beloved gunboats – different ones to be sure, but gunboats all the same. The men – all of them – had certainly had enough of this land fighting and marching to and fro like soldiers. And most looked forward to seeing their old shipmate again. Jake and Frank Clark walked down the hill toward the waterfront alongside Jack and Isaac; Carronade trotted a step astern of his master.

  “Knowing what they showed up with in the Patuxent, Jake, I’d be real surprised if that was they’s plan. But I reckon we’ll find out more when we meet up with Jared. I been wonderin’ just what they got here in the way of vessels. I sure would like to get my hands on another sloop like them ones we had ‘til a couple of weeks ago, eh Jack?”

  Clements smiled, recalling the cooler days and familiar motion under his feet, as he trod through the muddy back streets of Baltimore. The four lapsed into silence, each deep within himself with thoughts ranging from their good fortune at surviving first, the best of the Royal Marines at Bladensburg and then the destruction of the Capital, to what the future held.

  Isaac’s mind ran through the words of the pinch-faced middle-aged civilian, Mr. Eldridge, recalling that he had mentioned that the British had, only a few days back, passed again through Benedict.

  What did they do to the local populace? What had they done to the town and the pretty little grassy square in its center – the one where he had first met Sarah. And Sarah? What had happened to her? Was she safe? He knew in his heart that she had most likely not remained safely hidden away in her house or that of her godfather; it would not have answered for a girl of her stripe. And like as not, had there been any action, she would surely have been helping with the wounded…or worse. Isaac shuddered at the thought.

  With her feelings about proving herself to the men of Benedict, most especially her father, it was not beyond belief that she might even have been a participant in any fighting that took place. An image flashed into his mind, unbidden, of her with a musket, soiled and grimy with the dirt of battle. She crouched in the scant cover offered by a rail fence, resting an uncocked musket on its top. She was in her blue dress, with her straw bonnet pushed back and hanging from the silk ribbon tied ‘round her neck. Both were stained and torn. A lock of hair, a raven’s wing, fell down the side of her sweat-soaked and powder stained face. Without conscious thought, she pushed the offending strand back over her head.

  She pulled back the lock to cock the it, aimed the musket and fired at the approaching Redcoats, her body shuddering with the shock of the recoil. One fell and she stood to celebrate her triumph as a mate of the fallen Marine fired. Isaac shook his head and closed his eyes. He had stopped walking and put a hand out on a post to steady himself.

  No. No, that would not answer. She cain’t be shootin’. Likely helpin’ with the wounded. Aye, that was more like it. He opened his eyes again and pictured her wrapping bandages and helping the other women consoling and comforting the fallen militiamen. He again walked, focused on the image in his b
rain.

  “Isaac, where the hell are you going? Eldridge said to go off to starboard when we got here. Where’s your head at, lad?” Clements grabbed Biggs’ elbow and steered him to the right and down a street which appeared to lead to the water.

  “Uh, sorry, Jack. I guess I was thinkin’ on something else. Aye, you’re right again. This is likely the way we should be goin’.” Isaac smiled at his friend, thankful for the interruption in his reverie.

  “You men, there. Stop! Who are you?” A harsh voice shouted from astern of the leaders and they stopped and turned to see a bearded figure heading for them from an alley. He appeared to be in uniform – or at least, parts of a uniform and was filthy. His unkempt beard and wild hair were soaked in sweat as was the shirt he wore. Torn canvas trousers – equally filthy – marked him as a sailor. Or one who once had been a sailor. In one huge paw he carried a musket – at full cock, they readily saw – and a cutlass hung from a leather belt slung over his shoulder. A great shock of white hair fell down to his shoulders, unbound and greasy.

  “Sent to find Jared Talbot and the gunboats…by Mr. Eldridge.” Isaac stopped and by necessity, so did his men. He, Clements, and Jake Tate studied the figure as he continued toward them.

  They noticed that the weapon was still held loosely in his left hand, but his right now rested in the hilt of the cutlass. The man made his way through the opening which appeared in the ranks quite naturally before him. Both Tate and Clements noticed more than a few noses wrinkling as he passed; Isaac’s eyes remained fixed on the apparition.