Reflections in the Wake

by James Spurr

  Oliver added, “William might well have already been reaching for his pistol, I do not know, but I am here today because of Owen. With his weapon discharged, William had the only loaded pistol among us and we outnumbered Owen two to one.”

  Owen interjected, “In return for their lives, both William and Oliver assured me, upon their honor as men, my action would go with them to their graves. I needed never fear prosecution for what was clearly a capital offense. The irony is that I likely advanced our cause more by my action than I would have by any restraint.”

  Oliver looked at James, “You now know and understand the reasons behind the bond between us. We were three men carrying a secret in war and after which we worked together trying to assure a lasting peace.”

  The late afternoon sun was beginning to dim, no longer anywhere near overhead. James looked about and concluded it was time to go. “Come, let us go ashore. I will care for the remains and we will commit father to the deep from a canoe.”

  “No!” objected Bemose. They all turned, surprised but wanting to hear her.

  She explained, “William would prefer no other tomb than a ship he served. He belongs here, where he has been for so long and if I had only known all that I learned today, I never would have needed to make the journey.”

  James nodded but assured softly, “I, for one, am very glad that you did.”

  Then turning to the others, James asked, “All of you, if you would, leave me for some minutes, alone. I will walk to shore.”

  The party complied with the request of the one among them in command, having brought them in just five days from Mackinaw, safely and successfully to fulfill their individual purposes.

  James spent some quiet minutes feeling more than viewing his surroundings; a place he could not have imagined and to which he would never return. He thought about his father, his times, his memories of him and the example he left him. An example, he knew, he would need to pass on to Wasebitong.

  As he made to climb up the companionway steps, he found lying on the shelf an old and tattered Union Jack; Invinible’s colours, under which his father first and last sailed.

  He took it as a prize and departed the wreck, then and forever a tomb.

  Upon his walking up to the canoes, pulled up among the scattered supplies, he thought of St. Clair, soon to be underway for Detroit, another master at the helm. He was once again, he was certain, in the market for a new situation. Dunlap approached and before he could say what might have been on his mind, James asked, “Owen, you never served aboard H.M.S. Egypt, did you, nor have you any friends among her ship’s company?”

  “Why no, James,” he confirmed, “Why do you ask?”

  James shook his head, half smiled and replied, “No matter.” Changing the subject, James asked, “Tell me, how many ships do you own?” Then, hesitating, “And are any of them steam?”

  Marie, overhearing, looked at the two and smiled.

  The two began to discuss business and Dunlap sensed an opportunity to engage a well qualified Master. James, however, was startled to see Wasebitong seated on some supplies with Bemose taking her shears to long lengths of his dark hair; much of it already lying on the beach.

  “What is this?” James asked.

  Bemose answered, “George asked, upon coming ashore, for me to cut his hair.”

  Surprised, looking into his brother’s eyes, James asked, “George?”

  His brother, filled with respect and admiration for a father he never knew, in whom he as a result of their voyage could now take such pride, simply nodded.

  James shrugged, thought for a moment and suggested, “But among the Kithigameg Aninishnebeg, you will remain Wasebitong?

  His brother looked him in the eye and replied, “Yes. Always.”

  Bemose, snipping still another lock, nodded. As did James.

  Trove approached at that moment, sensing their imminent departure. He asked, “May I purchase a canoe, my friend?” He explained, “I am going to ‘round the point and head west. And I may not stop. The People at the Sault spoke of untouched forests, great plains and mountains, where a man can be free and start fresh.”

  James thought of the squalor of the hovel, along the creeks and wetlands of the St. Clair River delta. He thought of Trove’s woman, perhaps not his wife and of children of questionable birth. He asked, “And if I say no?”

  Trove confirmed, though he knew James was bluffing, “I will go anyway and soon find one for myself.”

  James knew that to be true. Trove offered a small bag of coins, constituting his full advance from his few days aboard St. Clair. He confirmed, “That should cover it. And where I am going, I will need no coin.”

  James nodded, resolved to deliver them to the woman and children Trove left behind, and they wished each other luck. James announced the transaction and change of plan to the party.

  The canoes were loaded within minutes and with fewer supplies, some allocated to Trove. Three of the remaining six would travel in each of two canoes. The party set off for a creek some few miles down the beach to the south to make camp for the night. But nearly immediately, Marie turned and asked, “Come James, let us accompany Trove to the point and see him off proper!” James indicated the change of course to their now sole companion and his lone canoe. Soon they lay just yards off Whitefish Point. All of them viewed the greatest of the Lakes, lying to the west with Trove slipping away to a new life. James knew he would never see him again.

  After some minutes, amid good natured shouts and waves, James announced, “Time to paddle!” With great optimism, he offered, “The voyage to Detour passage will be much faster and easier, working with the current.”

  The two small craft turned just west of south, with a brilliant orange sunset to starboard. James tied his prize, the Union Jack, to the stern of his canoe. The colored banner of an empire, trailed in the wake, washing it clean from years of soil. As Bemose and George broke into a native song to keep the stroke, accentuated by the beat of those not paddling on the gun’ls of their canoes, James turned round and saw in the colors of the flag, reflecting in the wake, the struggles of numerous peoples competing for a continent over the span of generations.

  Marie, paddling at the bow, turned to question why James had interrupted the stroke. James reached behind, untied the line and watched as the reflections in the wake sank into the depths.

  He had no more need for a prize. His war was over.

  Koelpin’s Wreck of Invincible (Courtesy of the Great Lakes Shipwreck Historical Society)

  Fact and Fiction

  Captain William Lee was a historic figure. Master of Friends Good Will in 1811 and 1812, he was in command when the War of 1812 broke out in the Old Northwest. James Lee was listed as crew aboard Friends Good Will, although the relationship between them as father and son is thus far merely presumed. Oliver Williams was the owner of Friends Good Will and descendants of the Williams family relate that their ancestor married William Lee’s sister, Mary, thus establishing their family and business ties. All reference to William and James Lee beyond July, 1812, is fiction.

  Lieutenant James Fleet was in command of H.M.Schooner General Hope, wrecked in northern Lake Huron in October, 1805, amid charges of inebriation. All reference to Lieutenant Fleet beyond those facts, are fiction.

  Venice in 1826 was impressive, although a mere shadow of its former self. Many small kingdoms and independent republics were conquered by the French through the late eighteenth and early nineteenth century, such as the Ragussan Republic and its capital, Dubrovnik. After the defeat of Napoleon, the formerly independent states were often ruled by foreign powers. The instabilities and power vacuums following the end of the Napoleonic Wars were very disruptive to rich cultures that had developed over hundreds of years. The architecture and sights described in both Venice and Dubrovnik are accurate to the times. The active volcano to the north of the Straits of Messina, Mount Stromboli, appears today as it has to mariners since Roman times.

  Marie L
apointe and her Uncle, Father Armand Lapointe, are fictional characters. The aristocracy and well established families of France, however, were displaced by the terror, even as Jesuits traveled deep into the wilderness of North America filling journals with the wonders of New France, Lac Tracy, and the native tribes and cultures inhabiting the Old Northwest. Marie represents the trauma of war, whether witnessed from the Hougoumont farm at Waterloo, or felt more indirectly by millions of displaced persons throughout Europe and the world. Many of course immigrated to America.

  U.S.S. John Adams is one of the most famous United States Naval sailing ships. Those details provided are accurate. She traveled the world, flying the U.S. flag, from 1799 until 1867, serving as Captain Perry’s flagship on a successful diplomatic mission to Venezuela in 1819. That mission is now remembered in large part for the death of an American hero upon the small schooner, Nonsuch. Captain Perry’s mission up the Orinoco River to Angostura and the grip of malaria, yellow fever or “black vomit” are accurate. One of the reasons Captain Perry was originally buried in Trinidad is that sailors of the day were very superstitious and not at all approving of sailing with a corpse aboard their vessel.

  U.S.S. Lexington was a newly commissioned sloop of war, just as described, when called upon to return Captain Perry from Trinidad to his grateful nation. Mrs. Perry, her home in Newport and the funeral of Captain Perry are described with a high degree of accuracy, including the silent procession. The funeral, however, actually took place a few weeks later in the season. Benjamin Fleming was indeed one of “Perry’s men,” and an African American who determined to return and fish from Erie, Pennsylvania, fighting for his rightful navy pension until near death, many years later. The designation held by a special few as one of “Perry’s men” was well understood and claimed by those survivors of the Battle of Lake Erie, which phrase was often found in gradually more frequent obituaries for several decades thereafter.

  Captain Perry’s exploits are described with a great deal of accuracy, including his duel and the manner in which it unfolded. He was nearly as active after death as he was in life. He was actually exhumed a second time, moved from the Old Common Burial Ground and now lies in the Island Cemetery in Newport. All told, he was exhumed twice and buried three times.

  New York harbor in 1826 would have revealed the advent of steam ships, although before the screw propeller. Most were limited to relatively calm waters such as rivers and harbors due to the mechanical problems posed by side-wheelers in a seaway. The excursion up the Hudson River to Albany, then west on the Great Western (now Erie) Canal was one of the few convenient means of travel into the interior of a continent before the advent of steam railroads in the 1830’s. With primitive roads, if any at all, the canal was an engineering marvel and accounted for a great influx of settlers in both western New York and throughout the Great Lakes. Many details of the canal are taken from contemporary paintings. While enlarged and improved over the years, many remnants of the original locks can still be seen today, some adjacent to the New York State Turnpike. When the replica of Friends Good Will made her way from Albany to South Haven, Michigan, in August and September, 2004, the first leg of her delivery was navigating the many locks on the Erie Canal, unable to step her mast until after the last bridge in Black Rock.

  The Rush-Bagot Treaty was unique for its day. Along a lengthy border between two nations that had fought two wars within as many generations, both determined it was in their mutual interest to essentially disarm. The security, free trade and peace that took hold in the region greatly assisted in developing the shorelines and interior comprising the Great Lakes basin. While the United States and Great Britain continued to experience some tension, whether from the western parallel of latitude that would define their boundary or from England’s later support for the Confederacy during our Civil War, never again was war threatened upon the Great Lakes. Contrast that with a similar situation, a hundred years later. The European continent, after two great wars within as many generations, was divided by a near impervious border, armed to the teeth, prohibiting free trade and promoting insecurity until the “fall of the wall” and reunification some 50 years later. When viewed in that context, a more typical reaction between rivals, the Rush-Bagot Treaty of 1817 was a tremendous success.

  Detroit in the fall of 1826 offered its visitors a “Steamboat Hotel,” which was named for the first of such ships arriving in 1818. It had rebounded nicely from the hard years following the British occupation. Oliver Williams, after the loss of Friends Good Will and service as a Major in the United States Army, never returned to the dry goods business. He opened a tavern, with rooms to let and served as Detroit’s Marshall when President James Monroe visited the community in 1817. Family history includes his naming a son for the President, born during his visit. But the Williams family had still another adventure ahead of them. Oliver bought property north of the city, in Oakland County and they cleared land and started a farm. He died in 1834 and there is strong evidence of liberal attitudes, friendships with Native Americans and it is thought one native is buried upon the old Williams farm.

  Friends Good Will, following the Battle of Lake Erie, very likely served as one of three ships transporting General Harrison’s army to Middle Sister Island in preparation for the invasion of Canada. The landing is accurately described, as is Harrison’s race up the Thames in pursuit of Proctor and his native allies. It is not known which American gun boats swam some distance up the Thames to provide a covering fire from naval guns. Thus the involvement of Friends Good Will and Oliver Williams in the maneuvers and skirmishes which were a prelude to battle is fiction. American forces, however, did capture Proctor’s ammunition, one indication of a poorly managed retreat for which Proctor later faced court martial.

  Tecumseth was a very impressive native leader, with ability and charisma sufficient to unify the native tribes into a formidable “confederation.” Some tribes, however, by the fall of 1813, after the Battle of Lake Erie, realized that the British position was untenable and sued for peace. Incensed by the British withdrawal from the banks of the Detroit River, Tecumseth’s passion for the cause provided the only spirited resistance at the Battle of the Thames. Tecumseth fought and died with honor in a swamp, adjacent to British troops lacking in leadership and ammunition. His body was never identified; his fellow warriors likely removing it from the field and protecting it from mutilation or a source of trophies. His burial place remains unknown to this day.

  Friends Good Will ran aground in a storm at Buffalo in the fall of 1813, although we have no account of the details. British forces crossed the Niagara River on December 30, 1813, in retaliation for a cruel and senseless raid on Newark. American forces largely melted in the face of surprise although managed to fight with a lone artillery battery at a key intersection within the village of Buffalo before scurrying east, not to return for some weeks. The British burned the villages of Black Rock and Buffalo. Also burned were two naval vessels, one of which was Friends Good Will, having been unable to yet claw herself from the beach. No trace of her has been found, including any spars or equipment removed so to lighten her and assist in her re-launch; one of so many forlorn hopes borne of war and the sea.

  Both Trove and Dunlap are fictional characters. Trove represents the watermen living in the river deltas, creeks and inlets along the extensive shorelines of the inland seas. With no tolerance for civilized society, his setting off alone for the American west is in keeping with the first tentative forays into a vast continent after Lewis and Clark returned and well before the Mexican war and subsequent California gold rush.

  The few occupants surrounding the straits of Mackinaw in the 1820’s witnessed both the old and the new. The timbers of the old fort on the mainland were at that time receding into the sands, even as the first steam ship, Walk in the Water, plied its waters in 1819. Major Alexander Thompson commanded Fort Mackinaw in the spring of 1827. He supervised a renovation of many of its buildings, having fallen into seriou
s disrepair since the war in which she was so easily captured, with natives and men from the North West Company at the Sault, including Mr. Johnston, participating in the raid. The residents of Mackinaw Island were divided in their loyalty during the war and divided as to what constituted justice, in light of their loyalties, after the war. Still, ministers and liberals were beginning to address the needs for native and Metis children at a new mission built on the island.

  The Metis people are of mixed blood. Originally, they were the children of native mothers and European fathers. They were often misused and marginalized, the symbol of disparate cultures clashing, even as individuals of different races made love and lives together in harsh conditions. They often claimed to be the “forgotten people,” but are now recognized in Canada as a distinct minority race.

  The British still held Drummond Island in the spring of 1827. A Royal Naval yard at Penetanguishene in the Georgian Bay supplied the island even as it allowed sister schooners Tecumseth and Newash to sink at their moorings. Both were put “in ordinary” as a result of the Rush-Bagot Treaty. H.M.S. Tecumseth was replicated and can be viewed today at the dock at Discovery Harbor, on the site of the Royal Navy yard. The remains of what may be Newash lie under the roof of an open shed on the same site. Lieutenant Henry Bayfield, R.N., renown for his expeditions charting major sections of the Great Lakes with remarkable accuracy, was based at Penetanguishene, and utilized at least one of the “mosquito fleet,” H.M.S. Bee, as his flagship.

  The voyage from Mackinaw Island to the Sault by canoe is accurate by the contemporary accounts made and written about by others. The raid upon the Sault in 1814 and the manner in which both British and American forces passed each other, divided only by Sugar, formerly St. George’s Island, is true. The description of the town in 1827 is factual, as is the history of the North West Company’s fleet of ships and their fates. Mr. and Mrs. Johnson are historic figures, as are references to native chiefs and Mrs. Johnson’s heritage and status among the People of the Great Lakes. Both Bemose and Wasebitong, though fictional characters, are authentic native Ojibwa names and taken from persons having carried those names.