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Authors: Michael Aye

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BOOK: War 1812
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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 than 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.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

C
olonel Johnson set a
fast pace, determined to catch up with the stragglers before they knew something was amiss. He knew his point riders would give nothing away unless by chance they were spotted or attacked. Jonah couldn’t help but wonder if the colonel wasn’t trying to build on his war hawk reputation and show his willingness to bring the enemy to battle ahead of General Harrison’s arrival. Such a bold move could do nothing but bolster his political ambition and position. Major David Thompson was waiting on Johnson at the rear of his point guard. When Johnson spotted him, he held up his hand and the mounted rifles slowed to a walk.

“What do we have Major?” Johnson asked, getting right to the point.

“Rear guard most likely, sir. Wagons loaded down, a few Redcoats and Indians, along with a lot of women and children. Captain Sympson is trailing the group now, sir.”

“Is there a clear separation or are they all scattered about?”

“Scattered about mostly, sir.”

“Hmmph,” Johnson sighed. This put an end to his thoughts of a quick charge with sabers rattling and guns blasting, A bunch of dead women and children would not help his political future at all. Butcher was not a name he could hope to succeed with. Turning to his aid, he ordered, “Pass the word for Captain Gesslin.”

“I’m here, sir.”

“Good,” Johnson replied. “Clay,” he said, using Gesslin’s first name, “I want you to take your company and swing around the edge of the marsh and see if you can’t get ahead of the British. When you are in position, let go with three shots one right after the other. That will be our signal to close. If you are sighted, go ahead and give the alarm. We’ll just have to do the best we can not to harm any woman or child.”

The officer muttered his understanding and Jonah fell in beside Gesslin as the men rode off. Trying to keep out of sight and at the same time keep from getting bogged down along the edge of the marshy area proved trying. However, the steady downpour of rain helped. Several times Jonah thought they’d been seen but the buckskins most of the riders wore blended in with the woods better than Jonah could have hoped for.

Most of the British column was on foot but even the few driving the wagons or those on horseback had their collars pulled up and their hats pulled down against the element.

At one point, Gesslin sidled up to Jonah and chanced a whispered comment. “That’s a beaten lot if ever I saw one. Look at how they drag their feet. Not an ounce of life in the whole bunch.” Nodding, Jonah agreed.

By the time they got ahead of the group, they had already passed four wagons. One appeared to be loaded down with sick or wounded men. The other three had supplies loaded in them and the last wagon was also pulling a small cannon.

“Probably a six-pounder,” Jonah guessed.

Women, both Indian and white, along with children walked behind the wagons. The odd Indian brave rode with the group. There were twenty riders, including Indians and Redcoats. A sergeant, who Gesslin had sent ahead, was waiting as the rest of the company rode into the road.

“There’s a bend just yonder,” the sergeant said, pointing. “Past that there’s maybe three or four hundred yards of a narrow straight-away with thick woods and marsh on either side. We could ride ahead to the end of the straight, and when they get passed the bend, fire off the alarm. The folk might scatter, but those wagons ain’t going nowhere with the marsh on each side.”

“Good idea, Hicks,” Gesslin replied, agreeing with the man’s plans. He deployed his men on either side of the road hoping they’d blend in with the forest until it was too late for the British to do much. Nervous horses pawed the wet ground. The Kentuckians had all checked their rifles, and the flints and priming pans were covered with coats and hats as the rain continued.

The sound of jingling trace chains were soon heard as the first wagon rounded the bend. Beside and behind the wagon, the first riders were seen slouched over and obviously miserable. The second wagon rounded the bend and at the same time one of the Kentuckian’s horses whinnied. Heads of the Indian and British riders jerked up, suddenly alert.

“That does it,” Gesslin hissed, then shouted his order to fire.

What followed was not what had been planned. Upon the word fire, the Kentuckians, instead of firing off three shots in the air, fired at the riders emptying six saddles with the volley. The other horsemen tried to calm their animals as those whose rider had been shot wheeled around in a wild panic. One rider was thrown and hit the muddy ground with a thud, splashing muddy water as he landed. Some of the riders in the rear wheeled and headed back down the trial while a handful, mostly Indians charged at Gesslin’s men.

Jonah had not fired his long rifle but as the Indians charged, he picked out a target and pulled the trigger. The damp powder flashed but not enough to fire his ball. By the time, Jonah realized he had a misfire; the Indian was almost on him. Dropping the rifle to the ground, Jonah quickly drew his sword all the time dreading the cleaning job that would have to be done on his fine weapon. The charging Indian was whooping and hollering, shaking a tomahawk in the air. The Indian let loose with the weapon, when the two men were no more than eight feet apart.

Jonah almost fell from the saddle as he ducked, the tomahawk making a whooshing sound as it swept past his ear. He’d just regained his balance when the Indian brave was upon him. Instead of galloping off toward freedom, the Indian collided into Jonah’s horse and the two toppled to the muddy ground. The Indian’s momentum carried him over Jonah, landing several feet away. The Indian pulled his knife from its scabbard and charged. Jonah had not had time to put his sword’s lanyard around his wrist and the collision with the Indian had knocked it from his grip.

Seeing the Indian up with his knife, Jonah frantically felt the muddy ground about him. He felt the blade and realizing he was on top of the hilt, rolled over to get a hold of the sword. The rolling man made the horse jump about, hooves stomping the ground almost at Jonah’s head. The jumping horse saved Jonah’s life as it swung around, its hindquarters knocked the Indian sprawling into the mud. Now, Jonah was on his feet with sword in his hand. As Jonah approached, the Indian now looked for his weapon which had been jarred loose when the horse tumbled him. Whether it was bad luck for the Indian or good luck for Jonah, the brave gave up his search for the lost knife.

Jumping to his feet, the Indian gave Jonah a cold look, spat mud from his mouth and then turned, dashing off into the marsh. Heaving a deep sigh, Jonah wiped the muddy grit from his face, lifting it skyward so that the rain would help clean his face.

In the distance, the sound of sporadic rifle fire was heard. Gesslin’s men had spread out, and the wagon drivers were standing with their hands up. Spotting his rifle lying in the mud, Jonah picked it up and looking down the barrel, it seemed clear. However, it would have to be thoroughly cleaned before it was fired.

“Decide to play in the mud, did you?” Clay Gesslin said, as he rode up.

“Not so’s you’d notice,” Jonah snarled.

“Well, if you’re through,” Gesslin continued, ignoring Jonah’s reply. “You can mount up and we can see what plunder we’ve taken.”

Jonah mounted and saw Colonel Johnson and General Harrison’s group looking at the wagons. The general must have ridden ahead of the infantry, Jonah decided. Moses rode up taking in Jonah’s appearance but not saying anything.

“Anybody hurt?” Jonah asked.

“None of ours. A few British, but when they saw us, most of them just threw up their hands.”

“What about the women and children?”

A grin came to Moses’ face. “They’re fine. As soon as we rode up, this woman says, ‘Well, Gov’nor, took you long enough. Got any food?’ The general appeared a little flustered by the woman’s approach. Nevertheless, he says, ‘I’m sure we can find something, Madame’. The woman then says, ‘Lord love you, doll, and if you be needing a little company later just send word and Maggie will be right over to his lordship’s tent to give comfort.’ This caused the other generals and the commodore to laugh but Harrison grunts and says, ‘I’m sure that won’t be necessary.’ Determined to have the final say, the woman says, ‘Well, if you does, just remember it’s Maggie’.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

B
y sundown, the rain
had ceased and Johnson’s mounted rifles had reached the mouth of the Thames River. The river was high from all the rain and flowing swiftly. Here, the land opened up to a large prairie. The narrow road with marshes was behind them.

Looking at the extensive opening, Colonel Johnson addressed Jonah, “A pretty land, is it not, Mr. Lee?”

“Yes, sir. That it is.”

“Good farm land,” Johnson continued, “good pasture land as well. Cows, horses, and mules, good graze for all of them.” Then, speaking to everyone, he announced, “We’ll camp here tonight. There is plenty of room for us and the general’s group when they get here. Reckon we’ll have time to inventory the plunder.”

Jonah didn’t say anything, but he’d bet there’d already been an unofficial inventory and anything worth taking, other than military supplies, had already been confiscated. As the word was passed, men began to unsaddle and rub down the weary horses. Then, in small groups, they were taken down to the river and watered. One area next to a line of hickory trees still had a stand of grass growing that had not been killed by the early morning frost.

“Those trees kept most of the frost away,” Moses volunteered.

The horses were hobbled and let loose to graze. Several men were assigned to picket the area. Once the horses were cared for, the men began to collect firewood and brush for their bedrolls to lie atop of. The fires were lit and going good by the time General Harrison’s main body arrived.

BOOK: War 1812
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