Land of the Free (37 page)

“Secretary Eustis has
appointed him a Brigadier General in command of the new Army of the
Northwest.”

“I thought that command was
to go to Colonel Kingsbury, sir.”

“It was, but Kingsbury fell
ill.”

“I see.”

“You must have spoken to
Governor Harrison to have known of Kingsbury.”

Yank nodded. “He sent me a
letter stating that he’d raised twelve hundred men for a new
militia and that Kingsbury would take command of them and the
Fourth Infantry Regiment from Vincennes to form the core of his
army.”

“The troop assignment has
not changed, only the commander.” Madison handed him a report.
“General Hull took command on May 25
^th
. In that report he states
that the militia raised by Governor Harrison was ill-equipped and
lacks military discipline. He says that he has been required to use
the infantry regiment to quell several instances of
insubordination.”

Yank scanned the report and
squirmed uncomfortably. “A newly raised militia is not an army, Mr.
President; it is a collection of farmers, merchants and other
patriotic citizens. Had I been in General Hull’s position I should
have fully expected ill-equipped men, lacking in military
discipline.” He rescanned the report. “I find this reference to his
using the Fourth Infantry to discipline the militia quite alarming,
sir.”

“Go on.”

“Well, sir, turning one’s
troops against each other is hardly the recommended method of
creating a cohesive fighting force.”

Madison nodded. “There’s
more.” He consulted another file. “When General Hull reached the
rapids of the Maumee he sent the schooner
Cuyahoga Packet
ahead of his army to
Fort Detroit carrying invalids, supplies, and official documents.
Can you guess the result?”

“No, sir.” Yank sat up in
his chair. “But from your demeanor it cannot have been
good.”

“No indeed, not. The British
have three gunboats and six warships near Fort Amherstburg, which
as you may know is directly opposite Fort Detroit on the other side
of the Detroit River.”

Yank nodded. “Amherstburg
also has a substantial battery. Was
Cuyahoga Packet
sunk or was she
captured, sir?”

“Captured. I wish she’d been
sunk. The British have our maps and battle plans.” He shook his
head. “What could that damned fool have been thinking?”

“Where is he now, sir?
General Hull, I mean.”

“I would presume Fort Shelby
but I do not know for certain.”

“Fort Shelby,
sir?”

“Fort Detroit has been
renamed Fort Shelby. I think they do these things to confound
me.”

“It was called Fort Lernoult
the last time I was there,” Yank said. “Is Hull aware that Fort
Michilimackinac has fallen or of his documents being
captured?”

“Once again, I do not know.
The reports I have came from General Henry Dearborn in the
Northeast.”

“What would you have me do,
sir?”

“I was rather hoping that
you might have some ideas.”

“On the surface it appears
that General Hull needs to be promptly relieved of his
command.”

“Yes, but how do I know
for certain? I have only the word of General Dearborn who is Hull’s
long time rival and who Hull has accused of bearing responsibility
for the loss of the
Cuyahoga
Packet
.”

“Well, sir, if you trust my
judgment you could write a letter relieving him of his command and
let me decide if it should be delivered or not.”

“I trust you implicitly, but
during your wife’s absence I hate to send you so far from
home.”

“My wife is not likely to
ever come back from New Mexico, Mr. President, and my children are
well cared for. Thank you for your concern but I’d like to do this
for you.”

August
14, 1812

Santa Fe, Nuevo
México

It was early in the morning
but the cantina door was unlocked so Marina walked in, let the door
slam behind her and squinted into the gloomy interior.

“We are closed.” A fat woman
was on her knees scrubbing the floor.

“I am looking for Rosa.”
Marina walked toward her.

“What for?”

“I am looking for
work.”

“I am Rosa.” The woman got
to her feet with a great deal of grunting and groaning. “Let me see
your legs.”

Marina hesitated, but lifted
the hem of her dress.

“Higher.”

Marina raised her dress to
her waist.

“Good legs. Can you
dance?”

Marina let her dress fall.
“Well enough.”

“Can you sing?”

“A bit.”

“Do you know any bawdy
songs?”

“Only in French.”

“Room, board, five dollars a
week, ten percent of the take on all the drinks you sell and I get
fifty percent of what you make upstairs.”

“Ten dollars a week and I do
not take men upstairs.”

The woman shook her head.
“That is too much, unless you will entertain upstairs.”

“I play poker and I win more
than I lose. I will give you half my winnings.”

“No deal.”

“Very well.” Marina started
for the door.

“Be my new Salome and I will
pay you twenty a week.”

“Salome?” Marina walked
back.

“Like the woman in the Bible
that wanted the head of John the Baptist.”

“You want me to dance
naked.”

“No. I want you to make it
look like you are naked behind veils. The law would close me down
if you were really naked.”

“Twenty a week and all I do
is dance.”

“Twice a night. At eight and
midnight.”

“I get half of the
tips.”

“Agreed.”

August 16, 1812

Fort Shelby, Michigan
Territory

One moment Yank was shouting
defiantly at General William Hull and the next he was spinning
through space like a child’s toy top, to be slammed against the
stone battlement wall. The world went black as he bounced like a
ragdoll onto the rampart.

~

The pain was monstrous; it
fogged his vision and clouded his brain. He struggled to find
himself within the pain but could not.

~

He heard the guns, bombs,
muskets, rifles; the screams of agony and rage – then it faded to
silence.

~

He blinked once and saw
above him the familiar red, white and blue banner fluttering on its
mast. Then the vision faded to black.

~

He heard himself moan and
was ashamed. It felt as if some long-clawed predator was inside him
and trying to dig its way out. He opened his eyes and the world
swam into place. But there was a white flag on the pole where the
colors should have been.

August 17, 1812

Santa Fe, Nuevo
México

Rosa poured out the coins
that had been swept up from the stage after Marina’s midnight
performance and began dividing them into two piles. “You are the
best Salome I have ever had. We took in nearly a hundred at eight
o’clock and this take is even bigger. We have men coming from all
over the territory just to see you.”

Marina yawned.

“El Jefe says that you can
do it naked if we pay him ten percent and you keep the veils moving
like you do now.”

“No.”

“We could double what we
make now. Maybe triple.”

“No.”

“How about wearing a veil to
cover you so they could get a peek through it?”

“For a percentage of the
house, I might do that.”

Rosa shook her
head.

“I could tie a veil just
above my breasts and another around my hips. My nipples would show
through and I would look naked from a distance.”

“How big a
percentage?”

“Twenty-five
percent.”

“Ten.”

“Fifteen.”

“All right but the veils
have to be white and very sheer.”

“I agree.” Marina
nodded.

August 18, 1812

Michigan
Territory

“Hold still.”

Yank felt hands on him. He
tried to fight but the pain was excruciating.

“I’m a doctor and I’m trying
to help you. Hold still.”

A face appeared out of the
gloom.

“You’re not hurt as badly as
you feel. You were struck a glancing blow by a spent cannonball. It
broke your collar bone, several ribs and slammed you against a
wall.”

Yank tried to
talk.

“Your head took a mighty
thump. There’s no blood in your ears so I don’t think your skull’s
fractured but you have a severe concussion.”

Yank tried to talk
again.

“Drink this. It’s laudanum.
I have to wrap your ribs and it will hurt like sin.”

August 19, 1812

Michigan
Territory

A woman’s face
appeared.

“Marina?”

“No. I’m not Marina.” The
face became clearer. “My name is Annabelle Priest.”

“Where am I?” Yank
asked.

“Safe,” she
answered.

“I can’t talk right. What’s
the matter with me?”

“You’re not wearing your
false teeth but I can understand you.”

He touched his mouth. “Did
you find them?”

“Yes. But they’re
broken.”

“Let me have them. They have
to be better than nothing.”

“No. Not until you’re more
stable. I can understand everything you say.”

“Where am I?”

“You’re in the home of a
doctor. I’m his assistant and his sister.”

“Where?”

“Not far from
Detroit.”

“How did I get
here?”

“You were covered with
someone else’s blood and gore so the British left you for dead.
Some Indians brought you here.”

“Indians?”

“Yes. Shawnees. We thought
they’d come to kill us but they just left you on the porch and went
away.”

“What happened to the others
at Fort Shelby?”

“That’s enough talk for
now.” She poured a dark liquid into a spoon. “Swallow
this.”

He accepted the liquid.
“Hull surrendered?”

“Hush now.”

“If the British find me here
they’ll hang you.”

“Shh. You have a fever and
need to rest.”

“What’s your
name?”

“Rest.”

August 22, 1812

Michigan
Territory

Yank awoke to blinding
sunlight. The woman who had said her name was Annabelle was opening
the curtains and the man who had identified himself as a doctor was
standing in the doorway. “How long have I been here?” Yank
mumbled.

“A few days,” The man said.
“Your fever’s broken and I think you’re out of immediate
danger.”

Yank tried to sit
up.

“No, no.” The man moved
toward him. “You need to stay flat on your back until your ribs
knit. It’s a miracle that you didn’t puncture a lung.”

“I need my teeth,” Yank
insisted.

Annabelle brought them to
him and Yank inserted the dentures. “Thank you. That’s better.
What’s your name?” he asked the man.

“James Winslow.”

Yank took a deep breath.
“Please help me sit up, Doctor Winslow.”

“No.”

“I’m Colonel John Van
Buskirk. I was sent here by President Madison and I must get a
message to him.”

“And say what?” Winslow
asked. “That the fort was lost? If he doesn’t know already he’ll
know it soon and a lot more than you can tell him.”

Yank clamped his teeth
together, pushed himself up on his elbows and swung his feet off
the examining table.

“For the love of Christ.”
Winslow rushed to catch Yank. “Help me, Annabelle.”

“I need to sit up,” Yank
hissed. “Please.”

Winslow nodded and the two
people eased Yank into a sitting position.

Yank caught his breath. “The
British hang anyone who offers aid and comfort to senior American
officers.”

“That was in the last war,”
Winslow replied. “They haven’t issued those kinds of proclamations
this time.”

Yank shook his head and was
rewarded with more pain. “I can’t let you take the
risk.”