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Authors: Michael Aye

War 1812 (25 page)

BOOK: War 1812
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“We should have already taken the British,” Gesslin threw out.

“No,” Jonah replied. “Not before taking control of the Great Lakes. Had we tried we may have faced a much different opposition.”

“I agree with Jonah,” Hampton said. “We had to take control of the overwater supply route.”

“Well, tomorrow, we’ll likely come face to face with General Proctor,” Gesslin volunteered. “Colonel Johnson is convinced the British will have to stand and fight at Moraviantown. Not only are the Indians calling him a coward, but according to the troops we captured today, so are the officers. He’ll have to make a stand soon or face a court martial and disgrace if not a firing squad.”

“Shhh!” The men turned to Moses. “Riders coming,” he said, “a large group.”

The men quickly gathered their weapons, not sure if the riders were friendly or not. A challenge rang out in the dark. One of the sentries had stopped the riders. Soon, there was a call for the sergeant of the guards.

“Let’s see what this is about,” Gesslin said, and the group closed with the sentries. “What is it?” Gesslin asked as they approached, not wanting to startle a man with a loaded gun.

Actually, there were two men. One of them spoke, “Evening Captain. We got a whole passel of Injuns who want to see the general. The leader says they want to make a treaty.”

“This sounds interesting,” Hampton said. “Mr. Lee, maybe we should inform our leader and see if it’s convenient for him to receive these noble warriors.”

Harrison was more than eager to meet with the Indians. The Indian leader was Walk-in-the-Water, and with him rode sixty followers. It seems that they had also become very frustrated with the British and decided to make peace with the Americans. A big to-do was made over their decision to desert the British. Food was served in great quantity but no alcohol was given, much to the Indians’ disappointment. The Americans, Harrison promised, would always be friends with the Indians and not turn their back as the Redcoats had done.

During the pow-wow, Walk-in-the-Water confirmed General Proctor had given his word to Tecumseh that they would fight. Just outside of Moraviantown was where they would make their stand.

A thick swamp was to one side and the Thames River on the other. That left a narrow passage that would be easy to defend. Harrison immediately made plans to move out at daybreak. He was also assigning Colonel Wood the job to reconnoiter the areas Walk-in-the-Water had described. Little did Harrison and the American army know, but they were being scouted also.

Tecumseh and General Proctor descended the river very quietly and made a reconnaissance of Harrison’s camp. After seeing the outlay of the camp, Tecumseh wanted to spring a surprise attack. Proctor refused, feeling it would be dishonorable, stating they would meet the enemy at Moraviantown.

Angry with Proctor for his unwillingness to attack, Tecumseh decided to stay close and keep a watch over the American army. He and a few of his chiefs spent the night at the house of a friendly mill owner. If Harrison’s army headed toward Moraviantown, he would gallop ahead and warn the British.

Rumors quickly spread throughout the encampment: the Shawnee’s are surrendering. Before that rumor could be dispelled, and the truth that only sixty or so had decided not to fight was made known, than the whispered rumors spread that they’d meet the British come tomorrow.

Jonah and Moses made their way back to the campsite. “Do you think it will be tomorrow?” Jonah asked his friend.

“If not tomorrow, then the next day,” Moses replied. Both men knew Proctor could not continue to run.

“We’ve covered a lot of ground in the last few days in our attempt to bring the British to battle. Now that it’s almost here, I thought I’d be excited,” Jonah admitted to his friend. “However, all I am is tired.”

“It’s not just the travel,” Moses said. “It’s also the weather. I don’t ‘spect you’re any different than most. We are all bone weary.” Stretching out on his bedroll and pulling his blanket up to his chin, Moses gave a sigh. “That little trapper’s cabin was a sight better than this,” meaning sleeping under the stars. “We could have even built a fire tonight.”

“True,” Jonah replied, with a yawn and then continued, “However, it’s on the other side of the creek. You want to ride back over there? Moses!”

The only reply Jonah got was the constant sound of a deep sleep.
Apparently, I’m not the only one tired,
he thought as he closed his eyes.

The gray light of dawn was making its way on the eastern horizon. Men moved as shadows. Breakfast had already been eaten, horses saddled, and fires put out.

“Notice the general’s personal belongings are all being put into one of the wagons that will be in the rear.”

Moses nodded but didn’t reply.

Gesslin, with a company of mounted rifles, had been assigned the point once again. “Problem is,” Gesslin snorted, “once they learn your name, they can’t forget it. Means we got to go to bed earlier so we can get up earlier, and if you don’t move quick-like, it means you get no coffee.”

So that’s it,
Jonah thought.
Gesslin hasn’t had his coffee.
As the riders made their way out of the field in which they had camped, lights could be seen from a farmhouse. The lowing of cows could be heard.

“Ready for milking,” Moses volunteered.

No sooner had he spoken, than a man with a lantern walked out of a back door and headed toward a barn. As the mounted rifles drew abreast of the house, a woman rushed from the house. She looked both ways nervously as Gesslin halted the riders. She was obviously frightened, and the way she kept looking side to side, she was afraid she was being watched. By who was the question… was it the enemy, her husband or who?

“Sir,” she whispered. “There’s a bunch of those red devils lying in wait. They plan to ambush you when you pass by. I… just wanted you to know, sir.” Then the lady dashed back into the house.

Gesslin motioned the company to move out but didn’t speak until they were several hundred yards down the road, and then he halted the column again. “Men, did you hear?” he asked. “There’s an ambush up ahead. I don’t know how she knows, but as skittish as she was, I believe her. We’ve been warned now. We will split into two columns, one on the right under Mr. Lee, and I’ll take the left side. First sign of trouble we ride like hell. Shoot anything that moves… except me or Mr. Lee.” This brought a chuckle as Gesslin knew it would. “Any questions?”

When none were asked, he wheeled his horse around and men rode left and right. The sun was rising now and a small creek could be seen just ahead.

“Likely spot,” Jonah volunteered.

“My thoughts as well,” Gesslin replied.

Several clicks could be heard as men eased the hammers back on their long rifles. Obviously, they felt the same way. Still, the men eased along as if they had not a care in the world. The cry of a war whoop was heard as a Shawnee brave dashed out of the woods wielding a war ax. Moses’ gun was lying across his saddle with the barrel pointing toward the brave. He simply pulled the trigger and the warrior was knocked backwards, a huge hole in his chest. Several shouts and war whoops were heard as the Indians rose up from their hiding places to fire at the Americans.

When the mounted rifles dug into the flanks of their horses and charged, the Indians panicked and tried to retreat. However, the Kentuckians rode them down. A few of the riders were pulled from their horses by the braves, but another rider was right there to help.

Instead of the Americans, it was the Indians who were taken completely by surprise. In no time, the Indians had been easily dispatched, with only a few minor wounds to the mounted rifles. What should not have shocked Jonah but did was the number of Indian scalps hanging from rifle barrels. Tired they may be, these men were ready to fight. Anybody who didn’t believe it had only to look at the dripping scalps.

Chapter Thirty

A
fter the skirmish with
the Indians, the point riders rode without mishap for the next ten miles. Seeing riders ahead, the point man signaled the rest of the group, who quickly found cover. There were three riders in the group.

Seeing it was Hampton, Jonah called out from his position but didn’t show himself immediately. “You there… hold up.” The surprise was complete. Then, before showing himself, Jonah spoke out, “A man of words you may be, but not a man of the woods.”

Riding out from his cover, he spoke again. “It’s a hellish brave man, you are. If we’d been Tecumseh’s Indians, you’d be scalped by now.”

As other men rode out shaking their fresh scalps to emphasize Jonah’s point, Hampton swallowed hard.

“We were told to expect you,” Colonel Woods said, taking advantage of his rank.

“So were those,” Jonah replied, nodding toward the dangling scalps. He was not concerned about the colonel or his rank, but hated to think how easily they could have lost their lives had his group been Indians.

“Had you run up on the same bunch as we did,” Gesslin said, backing up Jonah. “You would likely be goners or making your report to General Proctor instead of General Harrison.” The colonel and Hampton were quick to realize their blunder.

“How far back is General Harrison?” Colonel Woods asked.

“I’m not sure, sir,” Gesslin replied, now all military. “They were to be about an hour back but that was before we were set upon. After jawing with you these past few minutes, I’d say they can’t be more than half an hour behind.”

“I see,” the colonel said. “There’s a small creek not a mile back the way we came. We will go back to it and wait for the general,” Colonel Woods said, giving orders to Gesslin. “From that point to the British line is less than… three miles… wouldn’t you say, Captain Hampton?”

“There about,” Hampton replied. Colonel Woods, Hampton, and a sergeant had ridden out last evening to meet up with other spies who were keeping a close eye on the British army. They were now on their way back to report their findings to General Harrison.

Reaching the creek, the horses were watered, and men rested on the creek bank, holding the reins to their mounts. Not trusting to chance, Gesslin deployed several guards. Soon, gunfire could be heard, but it didn’t have the back and forth that was usual in a battle. Nor were there any other sounds that would be associated with a fight.

Seeing Jonah’s look, Gesslin answered the unasked question. “Colonel Johnson is firing shots around the horse’s heads. He’s getting them used to the noise so they won’t spook during battle. The colonel heard of a general who was on a fox hunt once. He had this beautiful jumper, but when they blew the horns for the hunt to begin, that blame horse reared up and dumped his master right in a pile of fresh horse dung. Said neither the general nor the horse was fit to hunt. Colonel Johnson is ready to hunt Redcoats, and he wants his horses just as ready.”

Trying not to laugh, Colonel Woods said, “You don’t expect me to believe that tale do you, Captain Gesslin?”

“Well sir,” Gesslin said, pausing as if pondering his next words. Finally, he said, “It’s between you and Colonel Johnson whether you believe the story or not. However, I suspect if you were to ask his father-in-law, you better have a fast horse ready.”

BOOK: War 1812
11.89Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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