Land of the Free (34 page)

“There’s a rumor that he’s
with the Alabama,” Yank replied.

“That’s one I hadn’t heard.
How much truth to the rumor that the English are supplyin’ Tecumseh
up north?”

“That’s no rumor, that’s
one’s a hundred percent true. At Tippecanoe, Tenskwatawa’s people
were better armed than we were.”

“We need to jerk a knot in
their English tails.”

“Yes. I agree.” Yank watched
the men unloading the baggage from the steamboat. “It’s going to
take me longer to get my kit than it did to get here from
Celina.”

“What’s it gonna take to
convince Madison to declare war on the British?”

Yank shrugged. “I don’t
think the problem is convincing President Madison. New York and New
Jersey have threatened to secede from the Union if we go to war
with Britain and most of New England agrees.”

“Those are the bankers and
rich traders tellin’ the politicians what to say. They want to keep
doin’ business with England. All Madison needs to do is get the
people behind him and the politicians’ll fall in line.”

“That may be why he keeps
sending me to find proof that the British are supplying the
Indians.”

“Well sounds like after
Tippecanoe he has all the proof he needs.”

“Except the New York
newspapers have reported the battle as a defeat,” Yank said,
shaking his head. “Those that reported on it at all, that
is.”

“I don’t suppose that many
New York newspapers have even heard of Tenskwatawa,” Jackson
replied. “Maybe if Tecumseh had been leadin’ the attack they’d have
paid more attention.”

“I think the battle was
written up as defeat or ignored because our casualties were higher
than the Shawnee. If the papers only knew that British muskets and
powder were the reason, attitudes might change. I’m going to try to
make that happen.”

Jackson looked dubious. “Do
you know some powerful New York editor that will take your word as
gospel?”

Yank shook his head. “From
here I’m heading down toward Pensacola to collect some solid
proof.”

“The Spaniards have turned
Pensacola over to the English.”

“I know. But a very reliable
source told me that the Creeks and Seminoles get chits from British
agents for weapons and ammunition that they redeem in Pensacola. If
I could get one of those chits…”

Jackson was shaking his
head. “They’re not chits; they’re just letters of introduction that
say how many warriors are in the bearer’s village. The armory at
Pensacola gives ‘em one musket per man and a bag of
powder.”

“You’ve seen one of these
letters?”

“Several.”

Yank was sorely disappointed
and it showed on his face. “It seems I’ve come a long way for
nothing.”

“Now don’t say that. My wife
is keen to meet you.”

Yank smiled. “Well then, I
retract what I said.”

“Good. I might have to call
you out otherwise.”

“I’d choose
swords.”

Jackson laughed. “I heard
you crossed swords with a young naval officer.”

“It was nothing.”

“They say you’re the best
there ever was with any kind of long blade.”

Yank chuckled. “My father
was the famous
Mad
Swordsman
. I grew up practicing so I could
be like him. I was an adult before I discovered that he carried a
claymore and used it like a battleaxe.”

“Don’t sell him short. He
was genuinely ferocious. They say that the mornin’ after Charles
Town fell, the British found a circle of dead men six feet high
where him and Dan Morgan’s son had stood back to back on the
parapet.”

“Believe me; I’ve heard all
those stories.”

“Well I, for one, believe
them all to be true. I saw with my own eyes how scared Tarleton was
of your father.” He unconsciously touched the deep scar on his
head. “One man on a big, nasty, black warhorse had a whole regiment
of killers shakin’ in their boots. The people loved him. If he’d of
lived, he’d of been president now and we wouldn’t be in this mess.
God only knows why he decided to lead that forlorn hope at
Yorktown.”

“God and my grandmother
know,” Yank said. “He committed suicide.”

Jackson looked like he’d
been slapped. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true. He contracted
scarlet fever and it developed into rheumatic fever that attacked
his heart. She said he was so weak he couldn’t mount his horse
without help.”

“Well now, that I can
understand. Dyin’ in battle would surely be my preference to livin’
like an invalid.” Jackson shook his head sadly. “They say that he
never did get over your mother’s death anyway. I’d be lost without
my Rachel.”

“The selfish bastard had a
son,” Yank said. “Ah. There’s my kitbag at last.”

December 25,
1811

Van Buskirk Point, New
Jersey

“Did you meet Mrs. Jackson,
Yank?” Nannette asked.

“Yes. I spent two nights at
their place.”

“What’s she
like?”

He shrugged.

“They say she’s a real
beauty,” Tom said.

“She’s aged badly,” Yank
replied, “but you can tell that she was probably quite attractive
in her younger days.”

“I take it you didn’t like
her,” Nannette prompted.

Yank shook his head. “On the
contrary, I like them both enormously. But they’re very different
from us and the people we know.”

“How so?” Tom
asked.

“Well, they live in a
blockhouse for one thing.” He chuckled. “And she smokes a corncob
pipe.”

Everyone at the table
laughed.

“I thought she was well
born,” Nannette said.

“Yes,” Yank gave her a nod.
“But she’s Southern well born. She’s the daughter of Colonel John
Donelson who was a member of the Virginia House of Burgesses and
the founder of Nashville.”

“Did you talk about the man
that Mr. Jackson recently killed?” Marina asked.

Yank gave her a stern look
of disapproval.

“It would seem to be a topic
worthy of discussion,” she persisted. “In Mrs. Jackson’s position
I’d want everyone to know the circumstances of my supposedly
bigamous and adulterous marriage.”

“She’s a decent woman,
Marina,” Yank said hotly.

“I heard that her first
husband threw her out because she had an affair with the
brother-in-law of your friend, Governor Harrison and that’s when
she ran away with Mr. Jackson.”

“You, of all people, should
be willing to forgive others,” Yank hissed.

“That’s the second time that
you’ve used that phrase with me recently,” she shouted.

Thomas got up. “Come along
everyone and we’ll let the children fight it out in
private.”

“There will be no fight,”
Yank replied. “Please sit down, Uncle.” He looked at Marina. “This
is Christmas.”

Tom looked at Nannette and
when she shook her head at him, he sat back down.

“Well,” Nannette said.
“Christmas is as good as any other day for juicy gossip and I’d
like to know more about Mrs. Jackson’s jaded past,
Yank.”

“It isn’t jaded,” Yank said
defensively.

“Just fill in the facts,”
Tom suggested.

Yank sighed then nodded
assent. “When Rachel was eighteen she married Colonel Lewis
Robards. He had a plantation in Mercer County, Kentucky but he
found it was easier to take in boarders to make money than it was
to work the plantation. He often left for extended periods leaving
the running of the place to Rachel. One of the boarders was Peyton
Short who later became my friend Bill Harrison’s brother-in-law.
There was no affair.”

“Go on,” Marina urged.
“Explain that.”

Yank looked at Tom who
nodded. “It was nothing. After returning from one of his trips,
Robards took it into his head that Rachel had been unfaithful with
Short while he’d been away and so he sent her home to her family.
To make a long story short, no pun intended, Robards eventually
told her that he’d divorced her when, in fact, he’d only filed for
divorce.”

“His grounds were adultery,”
Marina said, “and it was uncontested.”

“Of course it was
uncontested,” Yank said angrily. “The Jacksons had been living
together as man and wife. How could they deny it?”

She laughed. “Why are you
defending these people, John?”

“Why are you attacking them,
Marina?”

“Because Mr. Jackson has
murdered at least two men and horsewhipped several others for
telling the truth,” she replied. “He’s not worthy of all the
respect that you pay him.”

“More plum pudding, anyone?”
Nannette asked.

January 1, 1812

Van Buskirk Point, New
Jersey

“You’re such a liar,” Marina
accused. “You have no orders to report to Washington, you just want
to escape from me.”

Yank looked in his coat
pocket, took out a message form and threw it on the bed.

She picked it up and read
it. “Well, you can’t deny that you’re grateful to have an excuse to
leave.”

“No. I don’t deny
it.”

She looked surprised by his
answer. “What’s happened to us?”

“One or both of us has
changed.”

“You have, I
haven’t.”

“Could be.”

“Do you want a
divorce?”

“Our family does not
divorce.”

“Well, I’m not part of your
family.”

“I noticed.”

“What does that
mean?”

“Nothing.”

January 21, 1812

Washington, District of
Columbia

“If you were the president,
what would you do?” Madison asked.

“Please forgive me, sir, but
I’m not even remotely qualified to answer that,” Yank said. “I’m
only a soldier. I don’t understand politics at any
level.”

“Very well. Let me ask you a
more soldierly question. Do you believe that an American invasion
of British Canada would be easy?”

“Easy, sir?”

“That is the very word that
I keep hearing.”

Yank took a breath. “Well,
sir, it isn’t a word that I would use.”

“Can it even be done? Can we
successfully invade Canada?”

“When, sir?”

“Now.”

“No, sir,” Yank shook his
head emphatically. “Our army isn’t even close to ready.”

“What about the
navy?”

“Navy officers are
professionals, trained from boyhood. They have a superior officer
corps to that of the army.”

“You didn’t answer my
question.”

Yank thought a moment. “If
you’re asking me if the navy can defeat the British in Canada
without the army…”

“I was asking if you think
the navy is ready to go to war.”

“Beyond my statement that
they have better leadership than the army, I can’t say, sir. But
I’ve been told by some, who certainly should know, that we’re badly
outgunned.”

“Meaning we don’t have
enough ships?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We have a huge merchant
navy and I’m told that many of those ships could quickly and easily
be converted to warships.”

“Forgive me for not being
clear, sir. Since we were discussing invading Canada, I was
speaking of ships on the Great Lakes where we have very
few.”

“Oh. Yes, yes. I see.” He
made a note. “I wonder if the Lachine Rapids on the St. Lawrence
estuary could be made navigable as has the upper Hudson? What a
boon it would be to have that access to the Lakes from the
Atlantic.”

“It would be a huge task,
sir,” Yank replied in surprise. “And with the British in
Quebec…”

Madison stopped him with a
calming gesture. “I was woolgathering, Colonel. Thinking of the
future. I’m well aware that a project of that magnitude is
impossible now and may not be possible for many
generations.”

“Sorry, sir. I should have
known.”

Madison dismissed the
apology with a wave of his hand. “What, in your opinion, is the
biggest problem with our army?”

“It’s too small and
untrained, sir. And, as I alluded to earlier, we have very few
good, professional officers to train recruits.”

“Let us discuss those
officers then. I think you served with James Wilkinson.”

“Yes, sir, I
did.”

“What’s your opinion of
him?”

“He’s the senior officer of
the army, sir. If I criticized him in any way I would be
court-martialed for insubordination at the very least.”

“I think that answering a
direct question from your commander-in-chief should exempt you from
such punishment.”

Yank thought a moment. “A
fine officer of my acquaintance had his commission suspended for a
year for insubordination when he answered that same question that
was asked by his superior.”