Sworn for Mackinaw

by James Spurr

  “Samuel—of the Pontiac House?” Mary seemed surprised. “While perhaps willing, he seems, well, rather aged, don’t you think?”

  William observed, “Perhaps, but tough as tree’nails and his bond to William through your father is obvious.”

  “Through my father? What do you mean?”

  Oliver turned his head, looked over at Mary and explained, “I thought William or Bemose would have mentioned. Samuel was on board the Jersey with your father during the Revolution and speaks very highly of him; considers himself to be, in fact, in his debt.”

  Mary thought for a moment, sat up with a start, turned and looked down at Oliver, her hand pressing urgently on his chest. “Oliver” she began with grave concern, “My father used to speak to me about a Samuel aboard the Jersey. He described him as an informant and a traitor!”

  Neither of them, for some moments, knew what to make of what was most likely a coincidence. But the stakes were high, time was short, and Oliver recalled Lieutenant Dunlap mentioning as they crossed Lake St. Clair early that morning, no, the morning before, that the British were assisted by agents in Detroit.

  Oliver looked into Mary’s eyes, considered her beauty, evident with her deep concern. He flung back the quilt and reached for his clothing while standing in the moonlight.

  “Oliver, where are you going?”

  “To save William’s life and perhaps mine as well.” He was out of the bedroom in an instant, only half dressed, and slipped out the back entrance and through the fence gate in just moments.

  Oliver stood on the banks of the Detroit River and observed the three ships lying to anchor. He was very familiar with their profile, even in the decreasing moonlight as clouds moved in from the southwest.

  Friends Good Will was the furthest upriver with Erie in the middle and Salina closest to the commercial dock. At first, all seemed quiet and there was no hint of any activity, whether generated by Samuel or anyone else near Friends Good Will. Still concerned, as he was unable to see the transom and stern-board from where he stood, Oliver walked further upriver. His sloop had begun to swing on her anchor rode, self adjusting her heading to the new wind building from exactly the opposite direction from that to which she had swung since dusk.

  Oliver then noticed something very odd. Friends Good Will and Salina, the two ships on either end of the line of three, were beginning to swing as could be expected: from their old heading of northeast—the heading of both the old wind and the river current—to southwest, the new wind having increased such so to have overcome the contrary current. What he could not fathom was why Erie, the ship in the middle, did not swing to a southwest heading as well. In fact, with Salina swinging around and Erie not, a collision between the two was imminent, he guessed within just a couple of minutes. In addition, with Friends Good Will having swung round to a heading of southwest with Erie still remaining strangely lying to the northeast, Friends Good Will was now much more distant from the other two ships.

  It suddenly dawned on Oliver that the geometry would render his sloop’s transom more distant and entirely hidden from view.

  Oliver knew William too well. He was observing, he was convinced, what was in fact William’s plan set in motion. Somehow, Samuel must have kept Erie from swinging to her anchor with the new southwest wind. Soon, at the moment of collision, watches would cry out, a great deal of confusion would ensue and a good deal of attention would be brought to bear upon the entire area across which he was now walking.

  As he walked more quickly along the bank, just abeam of Friends Good Will’s transom, he noted the ship’s boat was lowered and lying next to the starboard entry port. Yet a dark object floated just under the davits: Samuel.

  Recognizing he had only minutes at the most, he stripped to his shirt and quietly waded into the river. He swam as silently as possible, all limbs immersed with just his head above water, purposefully causing no break of the surface as he stroked the short distance to the transom of his sloop. Samuel was perched on the starboard davit, facing inboard toward Canada and away from Oliver’s approach, his canoe lying below and between the davits.

  Oliver realized he had formulated no real plan other than to keep the documents from being handed over to the British. Samuel was hunched over prying away at the orb as Oliver reached up to the larboard boat fall with his left hand, grasping the gunwale of the canoe with his right. Samuel heard the splash and glanced over, thinking a fish had jumped. He could not have been more surprised than to recognize Oliver’s voice as he whispered, “Good evening, Samuel. I am sorry, my friend, I cannot permit you to turn those papers over to the Crown.”

  “I have no idea what you are doing here,” Samuel rasped in a poor attempt at a whisper, “aside from risking a well laid plan, but leave me be for but a few more seconds and the Captain will have all that he needs.”

  Oliver asked, “Captain, certainly, but which? I understand you were all too familiar with the Royal Naval Captains of New York aboard Jersey. Which captains are you befriending tonight?”

  The look in Samuel’s eyes, even with much of the moonlight now lost, was all that Oliver needed to see. His friend and favorite landlord was indeed the Samuel of whom William and Mary’s father spoke. Samuel looked more hurt than angry, but undoubtedly understood the implication. He spoke softly, “That was a long time ago. I was but a lad, younger than James is now.” Then, seeming nearly to despair, Samuel offered, “The conditions were horrid and I was weak. Do not dare to judge, Sir. Still, I have carried the shame ever since and I need not contend with you now. Leave me. I will deliver these to Captain Lee providing you do not cause us to be discovered.”

  Samuel took the documents from the hollowed orb, tucked them in his trousers and made ready to lower himself into the canoe. Calls came from the watches on Erie and Salina, alerting both men the ships had made contact: “Ahoy, fend off!”. . . ”Quickly, the boathooks!”… ”Erie, swing to your anchor, blast you!”… ”We must be aground!”… ”Push now, with a will!” The blow was likely gentle, but fearing the rigging becoming entangled, the watch made to fend off even as they created excuses as to why their catnaps allowed contact in the first instance.

  Crew were moving below on Friends Good Will and would be on deck on the instant. While the stern gallery windows were closed, both Oliver and Samuel were aware that Captain Fleet snored on the other side of the transom, just a few feet from their rather awkward and wholly vulnerable positions.

  Oliver made to board the canoe, but his large frame and the flexible boat falls hanging from the davits resulted only in rather clumsy attempts. He swung at Samuel’s leg in desperation, hoping to pull him into the river. While both would be discovered, at least the documents would be destroyed.

  Samuel admonished, “Sir, don’t be foolish. You cannot board the canoe, cannot pull me from my seat and all you will do is get both of us caught and questioned. If a traitor I be, all I would have to do is say I saw the papers or hand Mr. Fleet a soggy mass, all smeared and useless and both you and William will hang. Now, swim back instantly and I will meet you on shore!”

  Oliver was confident he could still destroy the information contained within the documents, which William assured him was valuable to both sides of the conflict. Oliver was confident William would rather the documents be destroyed than captured, even if it meant dire consequences for them both. But was destruction of the documents necessary? Oliver had but a split second to assess whether Samuel could be trusted and the United States could yet benefit from what gamble Samuel encouraged him to take.

  Oliver looked Samuel in the eyes, went with his instinct and refused to believe his good friend would betray both he and William, his dark past notwithstanding. He let his hand slip from the block on the boat falls, his other from the gunwale of the canoe and he silently, below the surface of the river, swam for shore even as crew from Friends Good Will emerged from the companionway and made for the foredeck.

  Samuel, strong and lean for his age, lowered h
imself down the starboard davits, gently landed in his canoe and paddled silently directly upriver so to gain distance as quickly as possible from any forthcoming pistol or musket ball. With English soil to starboard and United States soil, at least in so far as it had been just days ago, to larboard, just as Oliver gambled, Samuel turned the canoe to the west intending to join Oliver in just moments along the shore.

  Later that hour, just before dawn, Samuel led Oliver to William’s hideout. Oliver was as yet wet and chilled in the night air. To their surprise, as Samuel held the blanket back across the entrance and Oliver stooped, both Bemose and Mary greeted them and offered their thanks for their safety. They exchanged hugs, offered assurances, admonished each other for taking such risks and in hushed tones and amid a dying fire and thick smoke from a poor draft, Oliver beheld William for the first time in near a month, having last seen him duck down the companionway hatch of Friends Good Will.

  They spoke simultaneously, such was their strong emotion. Oliver offered, “Thank God, you are well, my friend!” William, still very much Captain Lee, “Oliver, I am so sorry for the loss of your ship. I should have seen the danger…”

  Breaking their embrace, Oliver assured by looking him in the eye and saying in a most stern voice, “No, you did everything any Captain could do!” Then, affirming William’s priorities, “I am so very relieved you rescued the documents.”

  Oliver turned to Samuel but said to William, “Samuel deserves our thanks and admiration this night!”

  With solemnity, William received the documents Samuel turned over to him. “You both have my deep gratitude and respect. I shall deliver these personally to our military, no matter how far east I must travel to do so.”

  Oliver caught Mary’s questioning look. “Your father, Mary, it seems, was speaking of another man entirely.”

  Samuel looked to Oliver with both gratitude and pride, and Oliver was assured his trust was well placed. Samuel, it seemed, stood a bit straighter.

  William knew, as did all, their gathering was extremely dangerous and they had but moments yet together. He grasped Oliver’s shoulder warmly and offered, “I want to thank you for taking care of James, assuring his freedom and for joining the cause.”

  Oliver was confused as to how William had heard the details, but Bemose explained, “I have heard several versions, both inside and outside the walls. Of course I tend to believe the most dramatic, casting you in a heroic light,” she teased.

  Oliver blushed somewhat and posed a question that had been puzzling him for weeks, “At Mackinaw, I noted the open stern gallery window and assumed that as the means of your escape; pray, wherever did you hide?”

  William smiled, “Amazingly, inside the crib for the dock!” Oliver understood, although the answer prompted so many further questions. Given the circumstances, Oliver elected to forestall William’s telling of what, he suspected, was a very good story. He returned to more urgent topics, “I am certain you will try to find James. He mentioned joining the Navy, if that helps.”

  William nodded, “Be assured, with only two days head start and he overland, I will find him, no doubt.” With some hesitation, but also with the best instinct for their collective safety, William offered, reluctantly, “Let us separate now, before we are snatched up and hang together!”

  Oliver nodded, exited the wigwam, but stopped just outside and considered for a moment while all others joined around him. He held Mary to his side, as William did Bemose. Oliver offered, with some considerable emotion that rendered him just a bit embarrassed, “I cannot help but reflect on the joy in having us together for these few moments and I only wish that James and Trove could make their goodbyes among us. We will likely not see much of each other for some time, but I know, without a doubt, through this conflict and ordeal before us, we shall stay true to each other.”

  The sentiment was clumsy, perhaps, but heartfelt and all five of them nodded, soberly affirming their commitment.

  Bemose, as always, articulated the broader truth, placing all that had been Friends Good Will in perspective, offering wisdom as guidance for their individual, uncertain futures. She offered as in prayer, with eloquence and grace, “Let William and James keep this young nation strong, Oliver and Samuel cause it to grow, while Mary and I, with her help, nurture her as she ages and contends with every challenge.”

  Fact and Fiction

  Historical fiction is an exercise in restrained creativity. Fortunately, much of the enjoyment found in a good tale is often grounded in truth. History rarely disappoints, well supplying authors with ample irony, coincidence and facts, some that strain credibility, all of which combine easily with a fertile imagination.

  H. M. Schooner General Hope was launched in 1803 and was wrecked as the result of the inebriation of her Captain, Lieutenant James Fleet, Royal Navy. She met her end in the northern reaches of Lake Huron, ironically on October 21, 1805, the same day Lord Admiral Nelson defeated the combined fleets of France and Spain at Trafalgar. Draughts of Hope confirm she may have been fitted with a new contrivance, a sliding keel and all details surrounding the innovation are accurate but for the fact that no one can say for certain if sliding keels were actually incorporated into the vessel by her builder. All references to Lieutenant James Fleet thereafter are fiction. Lieutenant Owen Dunlap is fictional.

  Captain William Lee sailed the Great Lakes as Master of merchant vessels well before taking command of Friends Good Will. He was, for instance, the Master of Contractor and his name frequently appears in the manifests found throughout United States Customs records of the day. His presence aboard Hope was fiction, so far as the author is aware. Bemose is entirely fictional, although natives of both pure and mixed race with remarkable beauty and ability were not at all uncommon. The name, Bemose, is taken from an actual native woman who traveled from village to village to assist with languages. While the Ojibwa language does not have a literal counterpart for ‘interpreter’, her role was largely the equivalent and the name translates to ‘always walking’. Given the extent of Bemose’s travels and role, the name is most fitting.

  Friends Good Will was built on the banks of the River Rouge, near Detroit, in the winter of 1810-‘11, though the yard was not located quite so close to the wooden walls as the story suggests. A private yard was laid down on the banks of the River Rouge adjacent to a federal yard which years before launched the United States Army Snow Adams. While Eckert is fictional, salt was actually attempted as a preservative against rot in some vessels, shoveled between planks and ceiling. Oliver William’s son, Ephrium, later recalled his father’s sloop and offered many details. Captain Daniel Dobbins, in his later writings, recorded Friends Good Will as having been built at Black Rock, however, such writings date from many years after the events and offer many incorrect details such as listing William Lee as the owner of Friends Good Will, together with incorrect specifications and tonnage. As we know these details are inaccurate from source documents, including the manifest detailed in Chapter 12, there are ample reasons to trust the recollections of Ephrium Williams rather than the Dobbins papers.

  Oliver Williams was one of Detroit’s leading citizens of the time. He was born in Roxbury, Massachusetts, near Boston, in 1774 and arrived in Detroit in 1807. He owned a dry good store and formed Oliver Williams & Company. His wife, Mary, was noted for her good works throughout the community and both were reputed to enjoy liberal attitudes and regularly practiced tolerance in a very diverse frontier society. Oliver William’s attorney actually was Mr. Walbridge, Esq., and at that time, Detroit boasted St. Anne’s parish, a United States Custom’s House and a commercial dock.

  Samuel is fictional, although the gondola Lee was captured at Valcour Bay, 13 October, 1776. The Jersey was an infamous prison ship berthed on the New Jersey shore of New York during the American Revolution and was the scene of inhuman suffering.

  Captain James Dunn was a historical figure. He was a prominent citizen, shipbuilder, merchant, and a suspected smuggler of late
18th century Mevagissey on the Cornish coast. His nephew, Peter Dunn, fell into the hands of the Royal Navy, reportedly during a family feud, under the influence of drink and escaped before any damage to the family reputation and its business empire was rendered permanent. Captain Dunn owned a sloop christened Venus and she was captured by a revenue cutter named Fox. Captain James Dunn’s house and the Ship Inn appear today, just as described, complete with the carved initials ‘JD, 1791’. The techniques of the smugglers are accurate. Some license was taken with the dates. Captain Dunn was most active in the 1790’s, but the stories surrounding his exploits were simply too good to allow a mere decade or so discrepancy to exclude him from the plot.

  In 1811, the citizens of the United States were not at all united with respect to the need for war with Britain. The prospect of war was unpopular in the Northeast where merchants depended heavily upon trade for economic development. In that sense, with Oliver Williams having been born and raised near Boston and fully engaged in the merchant trade, even from the Northwest, his fictional opposition to war and preferred remedy for all foreign policy ills is, while speculative, entirely likely. The debate at the Pontiac House represents firmly held opinions of the day.

  James Lee did sail as crew aboard Friends Good Will, although his relationship to William Lee is unknown. Trove is fictional, although representative of the earliest frontier watermen of the Great Lakes: totally free, living with little care and even less structure, obligation, government, or rules.

  The Chesapeake/Leopard incident of 1807 and the U.S.S. President/Little Belt affair of 1811, both described with a fair degree of fact and detail, served to inflame tensions already existing brought about by Britain’s impressment of United States citizens and sailors on the high seas. The definition of a ‘citizen’ was not well established among those nations heading toward conflict. Britain, pressed by Napoleon, had not yet quite grown accustomed to an independent United States deserving of some deference, and ‘War Hawks’ in Washington coveted Canada. The War Hawks viewed Britain’s preoccupation on the Continent and nominal presence in North America as an open invitation.