War 1812

by Michael Aye

  Jonah had volunteered himself and Moses’ services to stand watch, but Gesslin said they had a routine down and didn’t want to break it. The thought was appreciated but not needed. Jonah wondered if Gesslin didn’t trust them as woodsmen yet.

  Seeing Jonah’s look of concern, Gesslin quickly dispelled that idea. “We have a system,” he said. “There’s no need to change. The men know each other and who relieves whom and where they bed down.”

  When the gray light of false dawn appeared the men got up and started stirring about camp. The ground had been cold even through the pine needles and ground blanket. Jonah awoke with a dull ache and stiffness in his back. Watching some of the others stretch, he realized he wasn’t the only one the cold, hard ground had gotten too. Of course, they hadn’t had a fire of any size to help with the cold either.

  In half an hour, the men had their fill of coffee and bacon. They had finished what bread they had brought. They would have to make pan bread from now on if bread was to be had. One of the men had walked to the river’s edge to wash the frying pan and rinse out the coffee pot. He had no sooner gotten out of sight when he rushed back into camp.

  “Injuns,” he hissed. “Several large canoes full of the devils.”

  “How far?” Gesslin asked.

  “In sight.” By that, he meant they’d made it around the bend in the river and were on the straightway. That meant they were no more than one hundred fifty yards and probably less.

  Gesslin called to one of his men to secure the horses; so they wouldn’t break loose if it came to a fight. The fires had been put out a good fifteen minutes ago so there was no smoke but the unmistakable smell of cooked bacon and wood smoke hung heavy in the early morning air. Jonah had seen Gesslin send a man to the river to keep watch. He was back now.

  Jonah heard him tell Gesslin in a hushed voice, “There are five canoes with four or five warriors in each. They all had on war paint.” One, he noticed, had on an army coat.

  It could have been picked up anywhere or anytime, Jonah thought, maybe even from the burned out settler’s cabin. The most important part of the man’s report was that they were closing in toward the bank on our side of the river.

  “Looks like we’re in for a fight,” Moses whispered as he handed Jonah his long rifle.

  Without another word, they all spread out. Picking their belongings off the ground, the men found cover for themselves. The area wouldn’t stand a close inspection but from a distance all looked as it should be. The smell was what lured them in, Jonah was sure. The Indians landed and drew their canoes high on the river bank, moving silently through the trees to where the camp had been.

  The men crouched, waiting, as the Indians inched forward making their way around small saplings and briars. Jonah’s group waited, hoping and praying the horses wouldn’t make a sound. Jonah had grown up in and around the woods. His father had taken Moses and him hunting from the time he was able to pick up a gun. Later, it was just Moses and Jonah supplying most of the meat for the table. Jonah’s father preferred deer over cow any day. However, all the hunting Jonah had done for wild game was nothing compared to hunting a man.

  He’d learned the hard way when he was with General Wayne’s scouts. The snap of a twig under his arm as he raised his rifle had caused a swarm of Indians to attack him once. Luckily, the other scouts had been there.

  Now Jonah waited and watched. He could feel his heartbeat, but he was not nervous. As the Indians moved closer, each cautious step brought them a little closer to the trap. Suddenly, a brave raised his bow to fire. He died before the arrow was fully drawn back. The sudden explosion of gunfire left half of the Indians down and kicking.

  The Kentuckians rushed from their cover with Jonah and Moses along with them. One brave hacked at Jonah with a tomahawk. He parried it easily with his rifle then butted the Indian with the brass butt plate. For a moment, the hand to hand fighting was intense. However, half the Indians had been dropped with their volley. Moses was in a crouched position as a brave circled with him. Once the brave got a little closer, Jonah laid the barrel of his rifle against the warrior’s head, splitting the upper ear and scalp. The brave yelped in pain, went down on all four but came up quickly running for the river. Three more braves followed after him. The rest were down, some were dead, and others were just wounded.

  Jonah did a quick count. Every one of the Kentuckians was accounted for with no apparent serious injury.

  “Moses,” Jonah called. “Come with me.”

  They ran down to the river but were too late to catch the retreating Indians. Four Indians were paddling a canoe hard, their arms rising and dipping as they headed down river. They were already too far for a good shot, so the two men went back to the campsite. The dead Indians had been stretched out together. The more seriously wounded were left lying, and those with minor wounds were bound loosely. They would break free soon, after Jonah’s group had broken camp and pulled out. They could attend to their own then.

  In less than half an hour, the men had packed their blanket rolls, saddled their horses and were on their way. The sun peeking over the trees sent rays of sunlight through the forest. Jonah had never run from a fight, but looking back at the dead bodies and thinking about the settlers they had buried yesterday, he thought… what a waste. Will it always be so? Surely men would look back at history and not repeat the same mistakes. Or would they?

  It seemed as if Moses was reading Jonah’s mind or following his gaze. “It’s been like this since David’s time,” he said. Moses would know, Jonah thought. He was a man who knew the scriptures.

  Chapter Four

  The remainder of the trip to Franklinton was uneventful. They passed a couple of small parties of Indians, but they were not wearing war paint. One party even had a few squaws and small children in it, so there was little to fear from them. It was late… almost nine p.m. when they came to the outskirts of the town.

  Despite the lateness, the men were all satisfied that they’d decided to press on since dawn. Arriving in town tonight meant not having to spend another cold night on the trail and worrying about Indian attacks. The men must have looked a sight as they walked their horses down Gift Street. Although there were a few people stirring, most of the houses were dark as folks had already gone to bed. A dozen heavily armed men riding into town was enough to cause the few people who were still up to stop and take note.

  They rode on briefly stopping at a livery stable long enough to find out if there were any soldiers in town, and if so, where they could be located. They left the livery stable and headed down Broad Street. As they rode in the direction where the army was camped, they passed a jail and a courthouse.

  Gesslin turned in the saddle and spoke to his men, “You men keep civil while we are here. I don’t want to have to come looking for you at either of those places.”

  This brought a couple of laughs and snickers as Gesslin knew it would. He then turned to Jonah and spoke, “You probably don’t know it, Jonah, but it was a Kentuckian who built this town. Fellow named Lucas Sullivant. He was a surveyor. He was sent to survey the Scioto River. Afterwards, he was given several thousand acres as reward for his trouble. Part of what is called the Scioto River Basin. He first laid out his town starting at the riverbanks. Then the rains came and flooded the proposed town site. That didn’t bother him much though. He just started over, moving the town about a mile away. To bring in folks, he gave away plots to anyone willing to build a house on a certain street. It was named Gift Street. That’s the one we rode in on. Since then, he’s got hitched. Now he’s done built his wife a fine new brick house. He also built her a church, and some say a school is in the making. Now, other folks, land speculators and such, are pushing a new town just up the road. They call it Columbus. Lots more money involved, so I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that Franklinton just dried up or got swept aside for this new town. Don’t seem right though. Not after all Sul
livant did for the place.”

  “You seem to be well informed,” Jonah said.

  “I should be. I was one of a group of twenty men Sullivant brought up from Kentucky to survey the river. That was back in 1795. He offered me the same deal of free land to build on. Said it was to honor Ben Franklin, but I wanted to head back home. I figured I’d let others have the pleasure of honoring old Ben.” Turning in his saddle, Gesslin spoke to the men. “Here we are, fellows.”

  The group pulled up in front of a brick building with a sign that read, Sullivant Land Office. A uniformed sentry stood watch at the front door of the building. Tents and campfires were visible in the field behind the building. The door of the building opened before they could address the sentry. A tall man with a glass in his hand opened the door and stepped outside. The sentry came to attention.

  The man stared at the group for a moment then spoke, “Damn, Clay, took you long enough. I figured you’d either gotten lost or had your hair parted.”

  Smiling, Gesslin dismounted and shaking the man’s hand said, “Well, there was a few who tried it.”

  After shaking hands, Gesslin introduced Jonah, “Colonel Johnson, this is Jonah Lee. Lee, this is the best soldier in all of Kentucky… Colonel Richard Mentor Johnson.”

  Dismounting, Lee shook hands with the colonel. After the greeting and introductions were complete, the sentry was sent to fetch a sergeant who took the rest of the Kentuckians to find a campsite. Moses looked at Jonah who gave a slight nod. They had come this far with the group, so they’d camp with them tonight. Jonah would find out from Johnson where he might find General Harrison. But that could wait until tomorrow. Thus far, the President’s paper remained unused. How long would it remain so?

  Jonah liked Johnson immediately, as he had Clay Gesslin, but he didn’t want to reveal his hand as yet. Some people would act much differently when they think they are on equal ground, compared to someone seen as having more authority.

  Tonight, and perhaps over the next day or so, Jonah wanted to get to know Johnson’s thoughts and feelings, as well as other men in leadership positions, as to how the war was coming along. Jonah didn’t want to be underhanded, but he’d been given an assignment by the President. He now had to do the best job he could, the best way he could find.

  The next morning after breakfast Jonah was talking with Gesslin and Colonel Johnson when a messenger arrived. General Clay’s scouts had spotted the British army under General Proctor. The army also had a large number of Shawnee braves under Tecumseh with them. Hearing this, Colonel Johnson gave orders to break camp and move out. Johnson had approximately one thousand men under his command at this point. Being mounted men, they would move quickly but not near as fast as Jonah felt he and Moses could move being unhampered by wagons, cannons, supplies and such.

  As the army under Johnson prepared to mobilize, Jonah decided he and Moses would push on ahead. Shaking hands with Gesslin, Jonah bid him farewell with the hopes that they’d meet again up north. He had come to like the lanky Kentuckian very much. With soldiers like him, the Americans would be hard to beat.

  The horses were worn out after being pushed hard. Jonah and Moses rode into Camp Seneca as the sun was setting in the western sky. Even that late in the day the camp was a bustle of activity. At the edge of the camp, Jonah and Moses were challenged by a sentry, who, after being told who they were, called for the sergeant of the guard. Waiting on the sergeant, the man became very talkative.

  “Orders, you know. Everybody has to be escorted into the camp… been a heap-o-killin’ lately. Red devils sneaking up on people all up and down the river; butchering folks and taking their scalps. Man, woman, youngun… makes no difference to them savages. You can’t be sure what’s going to happen next,” the man said as he spit a stream of tobacco juice. He started to speak again but was interrupted by the sergeant.

  Jonah introduced himself and said he was here to see General Harrison.

  “Lots of folks want to see the general,” the sergeant responded sarcastically. “Not many of them do, however.”

  “I’m here on assignment,” Jonah replied.

  “You don’t look like no soldier to me,” the sergeant said.

  “I’m not.”

  “I thought you just said you’d been assigned.”

  Not wanting to lose his temper with the man, Jonah asked, “Is there an officer about?”

  “Shore they is. That don’t mean you gonna see him either. He’s eating his supper bout now, I reckon.”

  That did it. Dropping the reins to his horse, Jonah stepped forward so fast the sergeant stumbled backing up. “Sergeant, if you want to keep those stripes you better have me in front of the duty officer fast.”

  Realizing he’d likely made a blunder but trying to save face in front of the sentry, the sergeant said, “Have your man wait here and you follow me.”

  Jonah realized why the sergeant had said what he did but cared little for the man’s bruised authority at this moment. “I tell my man where to go, Sergeant, not you. Now move out.”

  Without being told, Moses took the reins to Jonah’s horse and followed. As he passed the sentry, he was not surprised to see a big smile on the man’s tobacco stained face. Probably had more than his share of bullying from the sergeant, Moses thought.

  The duty officer was more cordial than the sergeant. He shook hands with Jonah and offered him and Moses a cup of coffee and stated he’d inquire when the general might see them.

  Fearing he was about to be put off again, Jonah said, “Tell the general we are here from Washington.” He’d not used the President’s name, but the captain was sure to understand the implication.

  Jonah was not sure how General Harrison would receive them but doubted they’d have long before they found out. He was right. The captain was back before the cup of coffee had been finished. The coffee was good and helped ease the weariness from the hard ride. Draining the cup, Jonah would like to have had another cup of the strong black liquid. Maybe the general would offer him one.

  Moses made to rise, but Jonah said, “Stay and rest, old friend, I’m sure the captain has more coffee and will find something for you to eat while you wait. That won’t be any problem, will it, Captain?” Jonah addressed the officer, letting him know this was more than a mere request. He expected Moses to be taken care of in his absence.

  General Harrison was going over a set of maps when Jonah was ushered into his tent. Turning to see who entered, Harrison rose, a smile on his face. “By all that’s holy, if it’s not Jonah Lee. Are you the man from Washington?”

  Jonah also had a smile on his face as he responded, “Guilty.”

  “Well… sit down, sit down. Would you prefer a glass of wine, a cup of coffee… or something stronger,” Harrison asked.

  “Coffee will do, sir,” Jonah replied.

  He noticed a slight nod from the captain, who’d been going over the maps with the general. Obviously, he’d passed a test.

  Harrison turned to the captain and spoke, “Hammond, the man you see before you saved the life of General Wayne at Fallen Timbers. He was a young man then… we both were. I was Wayne’s aide-de-camp, and Jonah was Wayne’s most trusted scout. Neither of us had reached our twentieth year, as I recall. I was nineteen,” Harrison said then looked at Jonah.

  “I was eighteen,” Jonah added.

  Harrison made his way to a handmade chair behind the rough table the map was spread across. “You’ve been sent by Madison to spy on me, haven’t you?”

  Taken aback by Harrison’s remark, Jonah took a sip of coffee, thereby giving him time to frame his response. “More like to add assistance and support,” he said.

  Harrison nodded then replied, “You’re a damn good liar, Jonah, never-the-less I’m glad to see you and have you with us.”

  “Thank you, General,” Jonah answered and realized that he meant it.
r />   Chapter Five

  Reports came in daily of minor excursions along the upper and lower Sandusky. It appeared the British had given up any attempt to gain possession of the Maumee Valley and Fort Meigs for the time being. However, the Indians struck at every chance, attacking small patrols and supply convoys. Tecumseh, the Shawnee chief, continued with these sudden raids, spreading alarm throughout the extreme northwest section of Ohio. Jonah and Moses rode with Captain Clay Gesslin as he took out a patrol along the Sandusky. Moses was starting to get grumpy hanging around the camp all day, drinking kill devil and playing cards at night. Truth be told Jonah had gotten restless himself and was afraid he was making a nuisance of himself around headquarters. The opportunity to ride out on patrol was a welcome change.

  “They tell me,” Gesslin said, “that Colonel Johnson and his regiment is starting to get impatient doing nothing but riding patrols.”

  “I hear,” Gesslin continued after shifting in his saddle so he’d be facing Jonah as they talked, “that we are soon to make a sweep of Indian country then rendezvous at Fort Winchester. The rumor is a fleet is being assembled to battle the British on Lake Erie. If they are successful, we are to move against Malden and hopefully retake Detroit. There is even talk we may try to take York.”

  Jonah was not sure if his friend’s words were being informative or if he was asking about the truth of the rumor. After a pause, Jonah finally said, “That’s my understanding, as well.”

  Any further comments on the subject were halted when a point rider galloped his horse toward the group. The horse came to a sudden halt, blowing to catch a breath; its chest heaved as the animal pawed the ground and blew hard from its efforts.