by Perry Comer
“Aye, sir,” Ross answered and rose from the table.
Hardy also rose from the table.
“No need to go,” Sevier said. I was about to have my supper, won’t you join me?”
“Thank you, and I will be pleased to do so. But first, allow me to inform Mister Brooks to prepare to leave at first light.”
“Aye, I shall await your return,” Sevier agreed.
Brooks was sitting on the log well away from the fire. He rose when he saw Hardy approaching. “Will be staying long?” he asked.
“Only the night, we will set off at first light going south. I am going to make Horne corporal and put him in charge of the camp for tonight. There will be a corporal joining us shortly to be our guide; his name is Spencer. Between Horne and Spencer they should keep the lads from the rum and women."
“Horne!” Hardy called.
Horne answered, “Aye, sir,” and dropped his blanket.
“I’m advancing you to corporal, you will have charge of the camp tonight. A corporal Spencer will be joining us and will be our guide as we are to journey south at dawn. The two of you are to keep the men in camp, I’ll not take it kindly if any man is unfit for duty.”
“Aye, sir,” Horne answered.
“Lieutenant Brooks and I will be staying at the inn yonder. If I have not returned before first light send a man to me,” Hardy said.
Lieutenant Sevier was still sitting at the table when Hardy returned. Another man, a naval lieutenant sat next to him.
Sevier and the lieutenant stood as Hardy and Brooks approached.
“Lieutenant Hardy I have the pleasure to introduce Lieutenant Farragut, commander of the gunboat Hermes. Lieutenant Farragut, Lieutenant Hardy.”
Hardy shook hands with Farragut and said, “I am honored.” He released Farragut’s hand and introduced, “Lieutenant Brooks.”
Again there were handshakes and pleasantries exchanged. “Shall we dine, gentlemen?” Sevier asked.
All answered,” aye,” and sat.
The meal consisted of chicken, roasted pork, potatoes and cabbage. They drank six bottles of strong Spanish red wine. Hardy felt very sluggish but when the conversation turned to American and British conflicts he perked up with renewed interest.
Farragut said, “We’ve orders to not submit to search by the king’s ships and if they try to board us we are to fight. I dare say war is upon us.”
“Aye,” Sevier agreed, “They need men and ships to fight the French and ours are for the taking. If we do not stand, they will have us at their mercy.”
“We’ve beat them before and we can do it again,” Farragut insisted. “The yards are busy building new ships like the Constitution and the Congress; England has nothing to compare to them. They’ll sink any frigate and are capable of taking on their first-rates, out-sailing them and then wearing them down.”
Hardy injected, “Lieutenant Farragut is not the British navy blockading New York and Boston?”
Farragut turned and faced Hardy, “Aye, and many other ports up and down the coast. But, we’ll soon have their measure.”
“I think not,” Hardy said. “France nor Spain has their measure not singularly nor combined. Their number and their weight of metal are unequaled in the world.”
“You sound as if you think ours is a lost cause, I take exception to that!” Farragut huffed.
Hardy would not be baited and said, “Only an observation Mister Farragut, I’ve stood on English docks, I’ve witnessed English men-of-war lay waste to fortified land positions and watched as they pounded powerful vessels into hulks. No, just an observation, and I’ve seen our ships in Boston and New York harbors and they are too few in number to drive the Crown ships from their harbors.”
Sevier decided to intervene and said, “There is truth to Mister Hardy’s observation and it is also true that we are being forced into a war that will be hard fought if it is to be won. According to recent reports, the frontier is ablaze due to British backed Indian tribes raiding, looting and burning. Washington is sending troops west to the frontier and north to Canada and we that are here must contend with the Crown’s aspirations, the Spanish inadequacies and the lawlessness of this territory. We’ve too few men under arms to firmly deal with the encroachments on our soil and sea trade. I think we can all three agree on this?”
“Aye,” Hardy said and reluctantly Farragut agreed.
“Even now Lieutenant Farragut you sit here because a British frigate has driven you into port. You’ve not the guns or a hull strong enough to stand against her,” Sevier said.
Hardy had not heard about the British frigate off the coast. He was not surprised and said, “If that is the case then we’ll not be receiving supplies or reinforcements”
“Aye,” Sevier said. “We must make do with what we have. That is why Captain Williams is accompanying the wagons, we can’t afford to lose supplies and munitions to the enemy. Every barrel of power and every musket is precious.”
“As is every man,” Hardy added.
“Aye,” Farragut said.
Sevier pulled his watch and observed, “The hour is late and I have reports to write.”
“Aye, and I have had a long day and a longer one tomorrow, I thank you gentlemen for an enjoyable meal and evening,” Hardy said and stood.
Hardy awoke; he fumbled in the dark for his watch laying on the nightstand. The glow of the dimmed lamp revealed that it was a quarter to five. He threw off the blanket, sat up and stretched. It would be dawn in less than an hour. He turned up the lamp and pulled on his trousers and called loudly to Brooks who was sleeping on a makeshift cot, “Mister Brooks on your feet!”
Brooks was instantly awake and threw off his blanket. “Sir!” he said.
“Quarter to five, we’ve time to dress, shave and have our breakfast,” Hardy said as he crossed to the wash basin.
The water instantly refreshed him driving the night’s cobwebs from his brain. He thought as he shaved of all the mornings he had been awakened by a sergeant’s boot. An officer’s life was in some respects, the same as an enlisted man’s but differed in so many other ways. He counted himself fortunate to have risen from the ranks. Brooks, on the other hand, had known only the easier life. Yet, the man had learned an appreciation for the common soldier. He would, if he lived, become a proper officer.
Dressed and saved, he checked on Brooks’ progress. The young man was pulling on his boots. Hardy grinned and said, “Don’t dawdle Mister Brooks, there’ll be nothing left to eat if you continue to linger!”
“Aye, sir!” Brooks answered recognizing Hardy’s humor.
Hardy pushed back from the table and stood. “Dawn in a few minutes Mister Brooks, we best join the men.”
“Aye, sir,” Brooks answered and added, “I do not fancy another walk in the wood this day.”
“Nor I, but duty, like the tide waits for no man. We have many miles to walk this day and I fear it will not be pleasant.”
“More mosquitoes, flies and gnats,” Brooks mused.
“If those are all we have to contend with, then I shall lay my head down with ease this night,” Hardy replied.
“I do pray we’ll not fight this day. The wine last night is having ill effects on my brain,” Brooks said.
“I should thing so, Mister Brooks. You drank more than your fair share,” Hardy said. “I’m not complaining since you were the one buying.”
To Hardy’s surprise second lieutenant Nichols was talking with Corporal Horne. They both turned and saluted as Hardy approached.
“I’m to report to Captain Williams,” Nichols said.
Hardy smiled, “Then we are fortunate to have your company. Agreed Mister Brooks?”
“Aye,” Brooks answered and smiled.
“Corporal are we ready to be away?” Hardy asked.
“Aye, sir, the men have eaten, I’ve taken the liberty of securing a jenny to carry our supplies and she is loaded,” Horne answered.
A stout marine with a pockmarke
d face approached and saluted. “Corporal Spencer, sir!”
“Aye, I was told you know the way, have you any doubts as to the route?” Hardy asked.
“No sir, I’ve pissed so many trees between here and there that I can smell my way,” Spencer answered while grinning.
“I trust you can Corporal, you will lead,” Hardy said without humor. He asked, “What of the route?”
Spencer stated, “Once we are across the bay, we go about two miles and take the fork on to the south road, from there it’s a fair walk of about thirty-five miles to where it meets the swamp road leading to the river. Ain’t nothing but swamp along that road. Gators and Indians, ain’t no farms and ain’t no people.”
Chapter Six
The south road was wide and sandy. Were it not for the constant onslaught of flies, gnats and mosquitoes it would have been pleasant. There were few travelers on the road; none traveled alone or unarmed. They all kept their distance from the marines. Hardy asked a man walking beside a wagon pulled by oxen if he had met any marines on the road. “I didn’t but a friend of mine said he seen them yesterday, three wagons and about thirty men going into the swamp. I figure them all dead by now, Biassou’s bastards would have done for them.”
Hardy was not pleased with the news. They reached the swamp road late in the afternoon and Hardy called a halt and to make camp. When they made camp he ordered the fires extinguished as soon as the men had eaten. He, also, ordered watches of four rather than two. Officers were not exempted. To his relief, there were no incidents during the night and they set out on the swamp road. It was hardly a road; it was from one bog to the next.
It was in one of the bogs that Spencer called, “Sir, look here!” He held up a marine’s hat.
Hardy had a sense of foreboding that only increased when they saw the first body, a man of mixed blood.
“We will quicken our pace, Corporal Spencer!” Hardy ordered.
“Aye, sir!” Spencer said.
They found two more bodies in a sandy stretch of road.
The road curved back and forth between the worst of the bogs and over the mangled roots of trees. The jungle grew even more dense from bog to bog.
A distance shot caught Hardy’s ear; several more soon followed.
“Quick march!” Hardy ordered and set the pace.
They came upon a wounded Indian sitting with his back against a tree holding a hand over his right shoulder. Hardy approached the man. “Who are you?” he asked.
The man did not lift his head.
“You’ll not get anything out of the likes of him,” Spencer said and added, “He’s one of the bastards!”
Before Hardy could react, Spencer plunged his bayonet into the man’s chest.
“That be that,” Spencer said as he withdrew the blade.
There were more shots. Hardy ordered, “Ready muskets! Follow me!”
He pulled the two pistols from his belt and set off at a trot, his men raced after him.
There was a wagon in the road ringed with blue smoke from musket fire. Hardy did not see the attackers or the defenders. He halted. “Form line!” he ordered.
The line formed; five men across and four behind.
“Individual fire, pick your targets!” he ordered.
Horne was the first to fire, then two other muskets banged. Hardy saw one man edging away to the right of the wagon and fired.
Silence followed. “Reload!” Brooks ordered.
Hardy was alert to any movement. There was none. He waited and heard nothing.
“You in the wagon! Who are you?” Hardy yelled.
“Corporal Jennings, United States Marines! Who are you?” Came the answer.
Hardy was relieved and called, “Lieutenant Hardy, Marine Corps! I’m going to approach!”
“Come ahead sir! There’s six of us!” Jennings answered.
Hardy turned, “Corporal Spencer and Corporal Horne come with me. Mister Brooks maintain rearguard!”
“Aye, sir,” Brooks answered.
Hardy stuck the heavy pistols back into his belt and drew one of his four-barreled pistols. He started forward, his eyes and ears alert to any movement of sound. Spencer and Horne followed with the muskets at the ready.
Jennings stuck his head from behind a wheel of the wagon. The wagon appeared to be bogged down.
“I think they are gone sir,” Jennings said as he crawled out and stood. The man was covered in mud and blood.
“Aye, perhaps,” Hardy said.
Two other men rolled from beneath the wagon.
“Where are the others?” Hardy asked.
Jennings answered, “Wounded!”
Hardy turned and called, “Mister Brooks advance!”
He asked Jennings, “Are you part of Captain Williams party?”
“Aye, sir, we were in a running fight and our wagon was last in line before it bogged down. The bastards were coming at us from all directions and Captain Williams was already wounded. They kept going, they had to otherwise the bastards would have had us all.”
“How bad is Captain Williams?”
“Don’t know sir, he went down but got back up and kept on fighting. I seen him get slashed with a knife and he killed the bugger and fought on.”
“When was this?”
“This morning, not long after we broke camp.”
Hardy considered the situation. He could not leave the wagon and the wounded. Nor, could he hurry forward to aid Captain Williams.
“See to your wounded Corporal, my men will free the wagon.”
“Aye, sir,” Jennings answered.
Spencer said, “I’ll get the lads and the shovels.”
They freed the wagon and placed the wounded on top of the supplies. The two oxen were in poor condition both had wounds from the fighting. Hardy was certain both would die within the hour. When they did, he would have to abandon the wagon.
An hour and a half later the first ox lay down. Hardy considered it fortunate that the animal died while on solid ground.
“Corporal Horne, get the shovels and start digging a big hole over there by that tree,” Hardy said and pointed at the tree. “It doesn’t have to be deep just wide and long enough to put the contents of the wagon in. Bury everything and cover over the area with branches.”
The dead ox had to be moved before they could proceed. “Hardgraves you and Murphy unhitch the dead ox and move it off the road,” Hardy ordered.
Hardy and Brooks led the way with the wagon behind them. The wounded ox managed to pull the empty wagon with the wounded marines without difficulty. Hardy hoped the animal would live until they caught up with Williams. But it was moving slow, too slow to gain on Williams.
“Mister Brooks I want you to stay with the wagon. I don’t think you will be molested. I am going to take the men and go on ahead. If Captain Williams is still fighting off the bastards he will need assistance. I fear time will not be on his side if we do not hurry.”
Brooks nodded and said, “Aye, sir.”
“Spencer how far to the camp?” Hardy asked.
Spencer answered, “No mor’n two miles.”
“Then we best hurry,” Hardy said and ordered the men, “Follow me!”
They had gone a quarter of a mile and came upon another body, a black man. Hardy felt the man; he was still warm. He rose and set off at a good jog. He held a pistol in each hand and was ready to use either.
His lungs were soon burning from the exertion but he pushed on. Three shots in quick succession caused him to slow. A hundred yards on he found another body and was startled by a nearby shot. He turned and saw two men, one was reloading a musket and the other held a spear. He fired and hit the man holding the spear. A shot from behind dropped the man reloading.
“Shall I check them sir?” Spencer asked holding a smoking musket.
“Leave them!” Hardy said and set off.
Just around a sharp bend he saw a group of men and beyond them was a wagon. He ran on and stuffed the pistols in his bel
t and pulled one of four-barreled pistols from the holster. The pistol kicked in his hand, a man yelped in pain. He rotated the barrel, cocked the pistol and fired again a man went down without a sound. Behind him muskets banged. Two more men when down and the others turned to face the oncoming threat. Hardy fired again and rotated the barrels, then ducked behind a tree. He peeked out and saw the men in the road scatter. His men deployed behind trees and began reloading.
From ahead came the firing of several muskets and pistols.
Hardy began reloading his pistol. It took time and all the while he heard more firing. He stuffed the freshly loaded pistol back into the holster and pulled the two heavy pistols from his belt. He jumped from behind the tree and shouted, “Follow me!” He dashed forward with the two heavy pistols, one in each hand.
“Aye, sir!” Spencer answered from close by.
Hardy moved quickly and with caution, he studied every tree for an attacker. The firing ahead stopped. He began to jog, came to a narrow stream and splashed through the brackish water. On the bank lay two men, one was breathing and Hardy fired into the man’s head. The back of a wagon came into view and was surrounded by men wearing the familiar marine uniform. Others wore rustic clothing. They were unloading wounded men. He slowed to a walk.
The wagons had made it to the camp situated on the bank of the river. It was a large sandy area containing several tents. A marine at the back of the wagon saluted as Hardy approached. “Captain Williams?” Hardy asked.
“They just carried him to a tent yonder,” the young muddied man reported.
“Aye,” Hardy replied and continued toward the tent.
Inside the tent was crowded. Two men were administering aid to Williams The others were spectators.
Hardy pushed men aside to get to the cot.
Williams’s tunic and shirt had been removed and a man was pulling off Williams’ trousers. Williams looked up at Hardy; he smiled faintly.
“How is it with you John?” Hardy asked.