The Sea Hawk

by Brenda Adcock

  "The Carolina has been destroyed," he said. Julia's hand flew to her mouth and tears threatened in her eyes. "How?" "We were told cannon fire struck the ship's magazine causing an explosion." Fearful of the answer, Julia forced herself to ask, "And Simone?"

  "She was lost," he said solemnly. "I am sorry."

  Julia looked down and shook her head. "It cannot be. The British will not take the city. The Americans will win."

  "Perhaps, but Simone and the Carolina are gone."

  "Did you find her afterward?" Julia asked hesitantly. "Where is her...she?"

  "The Louisiana retreated back to the city after the explosion. British troops now control the area. There was no opportunity to look."

  "Then you can't possibly know for certain she was killed." Julia's voice rose as she challenged the news of her lover's death.

  "No one could have survived that explosion, Julia. You and Kitty must leave the city at once. We all want to believe the British will not win, but the odds are not in our favor. I must insist that you and Kitty take the boy and leave at first light. I will arrange for one of Laffite's men to guide you before I return to the Louisiana." He reached out to rest his hand on Julia's shoulder. "Is there anything more I can do for you?"

  "I will make arrangements for Joaquin to leave the city if you wish, but I will remain here. If you wish to do anything for me, bring Simone's body for me to see. I won't leave this city until I see her again." Until she saw Simone's body she would never believe her lover was dead. She could not have traveled so far in time and place to finally find the love she had been looking for only to lose her so cruelly.

  Julia glanced across the room and saw Kitty pacing and wringing her hands as she watched them talk. "Now go to Kitty before she worries herself sick." She patted his hand and said quietly, "Thank you for coming."

  Julia turned away before Anton could see the tears rolling down her cheeks and made her way through the maze of cots and into the nun's chapel at the far end of the first floor. There she leaned against the cool wall and slid down its rough surface until she was on the floor, crying uncontrollably.

  Chapter Twenty

  SIMONE RELUCTANTLY LEFT Esperanza's body hidden in the tall marsh grasses near the western bank of the river and moved farther inland from the bank. She walked north toward the city and away from what remained of the Carolina as quickly as she could. She hadn't gone far when she heard voices and slid into the marsh grasses, her body shivering against the dampness. She gripped her dagger tightly in her hand as the voices approached. Recognizing a familiar French-accented voice, she stood and looked at the men who had just tramped by her. "Bonjour, Pierre," she said to Laffite's brother.

  "Simone!" the stout man exclaimed as he swung around. "You are alive!"

  "That much is obvious, my friend. Why are you here?"

  "We heard the explosion and came to see what happened."

  Looking over her shoulder, she said, "The Carolina has been destroyed. The British must have gotten a battery closer during the night. Hot shot hit the magazine."

  "Are you hurt?"

  "No, but I am anxious to return to the city." She gratefully accepted a cape from one of Pierre's men and pulled it over her shoulders.

  "The Americans are preparing for their final stand. It may be wiser to see if they are successful. Jean believes the British may attempt to land soldiers on this side of the river to attack from the rear."

  "Then I shall stay with you until the fighting is finished."

  Despite her desire to return to New Orleans, Simone spent the remainder of the week with Pierre Laffite and his men. Periodic skirmishes on the east bank told them the fighting was far from over. Pierre sent men through the swampy area of the west bank to warn them of an attack from their rear. Simone was beginning to regard their vigilance as unnecessary and chafed to return to the eastern shore.

  The morning of January eighth the sound of cannon and musket fire pierced the air from the eastern bank of the river. One of Laffite's scouts returned to the group to report a large contingent of British soldiers making its way around the American position by way of the western bank. Pierre sent a messenger to his brother before turning his group to meet the new threat.

  They were unsure of the number of British troops landing along the western bank of the river, but it didn't take long for them to realize they were badly outmanned and outgunned. Pierre and his group retreated to an area where a small battery of American artillery was set up and waited. They were spread painfully thin along a narrow line. Simone didn't like the looks of their situation. There were no more than nine cannons aligned to meet the British forces who had easily overrun the first line of defenders a mile south of the American artillery. The American commander on the west bank waited until he saw the British advancing within range of his cannons and opened fire. Volleys of musket fire followed, but for every British soldier that fell another quickly took his place and continued to march relentlessly toward the Americans.

  "Disable the cannons!" Simone called out. She ran to the gunpowder barrels and tipped them over, rolling them toward the river to render the gunpowder useless. Others joined her in the attempt to make the cannons, which were sure to be used against them as they retreated, useless. As her final barrel teetered on the edge of a slope running to the water, she stood and was grabbed from behind. She spun around, pulling her cutlass from its scabbard barely in time to deflect the bayonet of a British soldier. She jumped back slightly and held her weapon in preparation to fight. The soldier was young and the sight of a woman on the battlefield startled him momentarily. Using his hesitation to her advantage, she shoved the barrel down the slope as she slashed the man's arm. She could have easily killed him. Turning away from the wounded soldier she bolted into the marsh to join her comrades.

  The Americans managed to regroup less than a mile away, but without the aid of their artillery they could offer little more than token resistance. They hid within the marsh grasses and caught their breath before the next attack. But it never came. A man ran toward them and was quickly surrounded by a motley group of wet, dirty, and bloody volunteers, pirates, and American soldiers. He threw is hands into the air quickly. "The British are leaving!" he announced.

  "But they are winning," Pierre said. "What has happened?"

  "Jackson is winning on the eastern bank. They are returning to reinforce the British line. The British commander has been killed."

  Simone shoved her cutlass into its scabbard and sat down heavily, putting her head in her hands. "The city is safe?" she asked, looking up at the messenger. Jubilation broke out among the survivors of the fighting on the western bank.

  Early that afternoon, Simone smiled when she saw Jean Laffite striding through his beloved swamps and marshes, leading several hundred Americans. Julia had been right. The Americans did manage against all odds to reject the British attempt to take New Orleans. She borrowed a spyglass from Laffite and gazed across the wide river. The fields and banks were littered with the bodies of the dead and wounded. Both sides fought valiantly. New Orleans was saved and Simone was ready to leave it and begin her new life with Julia.

  SIMONE RETURNED TO the city with Laffite and his men, relieved to see little damage. Jackson and his men did not allow the British closer than ten miles from New Orleans. News of the American victory spread quickly among the citizens and the streets were jammed with celebrations. They pushed their way through the crowds of revelers. There was only one destination on Simone's mind.

  "A great victory, eh, Simone?" Laffite asked.

  "Oui," she answered with a smile. "The time for fighting is over."

  "Come with us. This city is growing much too civilized. Barataria is gone. There will be good hunting farther to the west," Laffite said.

  "I cannot believe you would leave here."

  "With my Letter of Marque from the Americans the gold from Spanish ships will make us all wealthy. Join us and I guarantee it will be worth your while."

 
; "I have no interest in fighting the Spanish. Peaceful days lie ahead for me on Martinique, my friend." Simone said. "If the captains of my other ships wish to accompany you I will do nothing to stop them, but I shall return home."

  Simone and Laffite hugged briefly. "I wish you the best of luck. If you should grow tired of peace and quiet, sail west and you shall find me."

  "Au revoir, mon ami," Simone said, patting Laffite on the back.

  Making her way across the Place d'Armes, she saw a familiar face and quickened her steps. "Anton!" she called out. Her brother heard his name being called, but was unable to locate its source until Simone pushed past a group near the center of the open area.

  "Simone!" he exclaimed when he finally saw her.

  They made their way quickly to one another and hugged fiercely when they met.

  "I...I thought you were lost when the Carolina exploded," he said.

  "I made it over the side before the explosion. Esperanza was killed," she said, fighting back the sorrow she felt from the loss. "Where is Julia?"

  "She has returned to Livingston's home. I tried to convince her to leave the city, but she refused to believe you were lost. Kitty and Joaquin are with her."

  "I must go to her, Anton," Simone said as she began to move away. "I will see you later, yes?"

  SIMONE WALKED AS quickly as the crowds permitted toward Edward Livingston's home on Rue de Dauphine. When she reached the courtyard gate half an hour later she paused to catch her breath. Stepping into the courtyard she looked around and made her way to the stairs leading to the second floor. Halfway up, she could wait no longer. "Julia!" she called out. "Julia!"

  A door farther down the gallery opened and Kitty stepped outside, her hands flying to her mouth. "Praise God!" she said as she rushed toward Simone and hugged her.

  Taking Kitty by the arms Simone asked, "Where is Julia?"

  "In the chapel on the other side of the courtyard. Her prayers have indeed been answered," Kitty beamed.

  Simone rushed back down the wrought iron stairs and across the courtyard. She opened the wooden chapel door and stepped inside, stopping to quickly dip her fingers into the font of holy water. She genuflected and made the sign of the cross. It had been many years since she had entered a church, but she had never had more reason to be grateful. She saw Julia kneeling at the railing near the altar, a bank of flickering candles illuminating her face.

  With the fighting near the city many people spent extra time in chapels or St. Louis Cathedral praying for the safety of their city. When the door to the chapel opened Julia ignored it as a common occurrence, continuing with her prayers. Until she saw Simone's body she would never believe her lover was dead. She wasn't sure she would be able to look at a mangled body and recognize Simone without being destroyed herself.

  "Julia," Simone said softly.

  Now I am hearing things, Julia thought with a frown. Simone is gone.

  Simone stepped closer to the railing. "Julia, mon amour."

  Julia spun around and nearly fell from the shock of seeing Simone. Her clothes were torn and filthy with mud and blood. Julia stared at Simone for a moment longer as if she were an apparition before standing and running to her. She was swept up by welcoming strong arms and held closely in a warm embrace. Simone set her down and Julia pulled her into a deep frantic kiss, unwilling to release her for fear she was nothing more than a dream. The kiss returned to her was all the assurance Julia needed. Simone was alive!

  "Anton told me you were dead," Julia croaked. "Oh God, my love, are you injured?"

  "No. I am well," Simone answered. Wrapping an arm around Julia's waist she said, "I want to feel you with me, but not in this place."

  Julia turned back toward the altar and made the sign of the cross. "Thank you," she mouthed as she rejoined Simone.

  They walked out of the chapel. A cold wind whipped across the courtyard and they clung to one another. Simone stopped when she saw Joaquin standing near the dormant fountain in the center of the courtyard. "I must speak to him," Simone said solemnly. "Esperanza was lost."

  Julia saw the tears forming in Simone's eyes. She nodded. "I will prepare a bath for you."

  Simone kissed Julia lightly and watched her climb the stairs to the second floor. She walked to Joaquin and knelt in front of him, drawing him into a tender hug, kissing his cheeks and wiping away his tears. "Sit with me, Joaquin. We must talk." Simone sat on the edge of the fountain. Joaquin joined her and she wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Tipping his chin toward her she said, "I am sorry, Joaquin. Esperanza was killed during the fight against the British."

  "Was she...brave?"

  "Very brave. You should be proud of her. She sacrificed her life to help save the city, but I was unable to save her."

  "May we bury her on Martinique?"

  "Of course. We will return her to the home she loved best."

  "I...I will miss her, Faucon," Joaquin said. Tears streaked his cheeks.

  Pulling the boy into her arms, Simone whispered, "We shall all miss her spirit."

  "What will become of me now?"

  "I will care for you, mon chou, as always. You will live with us on Martinique. I shall be proud to call you my son. Your mother's last words were of you. She loved you in her own way. Now go into the chapel and light a candle in memory of her spirit."

  Simone watched Joaquin enter the small chapel and wiped away her own tears. She loved the boy as if he were her own and made a silent vow to give him the best life she could. Straightening her shirt she stood and climbed the stairs toward her future.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  THE FIGHTING AT New Orleans was costly. Simone lost twenty-five of her crewmen as well as Esperanza. Following a week of rest and preparations, Simone helped Julia and Joaquin aboard Le Faucon de Mer for the final journey home to Martinique. The feel of Julia beside her filled her soul with happiness despite the losses they had suffered.

  The day after her return to New Orleans Simone and four of her crew members crossed the Mississippi River to the western bank. She personally cleaned her former lover's body before sealing it in a simple wooden casket. Across the river the British were also going about the grim task of preparing their dead for burial. They had all fought valiantly, but the toll was more than Simone could comprehend.

  As the ship weighed anchor and slowly made its way out of Timbalier Bay toward the open sea, Simone stood on the wheel deck. "Take us home, Gaston," she said to her new first mate. "The most direct course you can navigate."

  "Oui, Captain," the man nodded as the ship cleared the channel entrance to the Gulf of Mexico.

  A brisk winter breeze filled the sails. Simone wrapped a cape around her shoulders and walked to the stern. Her black hair fluttered around her head as she sat and watched the Northumberland fall in behind her. This would be her last voyage. Le Faucon had been her home for too many years.

  A smile crossed her lips as she gazed back at her brother's ship. He and Kitty married the day before they left New Orleans. St. Louis Cathedral was filled with rugged looking crewmen as they exchanged their vows. Most of their men practiced no religion and seemed uncomfortable and uncertain as to the proper behavior. They were much more comfortable at the celebration afterward.

  The captains of Simone's other two ships made the decision to remain with Laffite. They knew no other life and she wished them well. They were loyal to her and deserved their rewards for such loyalty. Her thoughts were interrupted by the feeling she was being watched. She turned her head toward Gaston and saw Julia staring at her. Motioning her closer, she pulled Julia against her for warmth and covered them both with her cape.

  Julia had been unusually quiet as they made their final preparations to leave New Orleans, but offered no explanation. Simone had been reluctant to question her then. "What is troubling you, mon amour?" she whispered. "You seem unhappy."

  "No. I am indescribably happy, but...there is something you need to know about me."

  "Is it something
serious? No matter what it is, it could never diminish my love for you," Simone said, brushing her lips against Julia's neck. "We have survived much worse, I am certain."

  "It's chilly up here," Julia said. "Can we speak about it in your cabin?"

  "It is our cabin now and I would enjoy being there with you." Simone stood and offered her hand to Julia. She left an order with Gaston not to be disturbed and escorted Julia down the steps to the main deck. Had Julia changed her mind and now had no wish to accompany her to Martinique? Simone refused to think of such a possibility. As they entered their cabin Simone pulled Julia to her. She was shocked when Julia pushed away from her and walked to the windows overlooking the sea behind them.

  Simone followed her and placed her hands on Julia's shoulders. "Have I done something to upset you?" Simone asked. "If so, you have my deepest apologies."

  "No. You are everything I have ever desired. The problem is with me," Julia answered.

  Simone took a deep breath and wrapped her arms around her lover. "Tell me what you believe is wrong and I will do what I can to change it."

  Julia laughed. "You can do many things, my love, but this isn't something you can fix. No one can."

  Simone turned Julia to look at her. "I love you, Julia, but I cannot play these guessing games. I have given you my heart and now you are ripping it apart."

  Julia looked down for a moment. When she looked up again she saw the worry in Simone's eyes, and stroked the side of her face. "I don't belong here," she finally said softly.

  "Of course you do! You will always belong here with me," Simon said with authority.

  "Do you remember Bernadette?"

  "That foolish old tarot reader in New Orleans? What of her?"

  "She said I didn't belong here. Being near me frightened her."

  "She was an old fool. Nothing more than a street vender stealing money from the gullible," Simone said dismissively.