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Authors: Michael Aye

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BOOK: War 1812
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His voice beseeching, “It is a great pity that so fine a young man as you and as your commander is represented to be should fall into the hands of savages. Sir, for God’s sake, surrender and prevent the dreadful massacre that will be caused by your resistance.”

Shipp took a breath and responded coolly, “When the fort shall be taken, there will be none to massacre. It will not be given up while a man is able to resist.” He then turned and headed back toward the fort.

As he passed a bushy ravine, an Indian jumped out attacking him. The Indian tried to snatch his sword away from him. Shipp pulled his pistol and was about to dispatch the savage when Captain Dixon called the brave off. Standing, with one hand on his sword and pistol in his other hand, Shipp looked at the Indian with hatred in his eyes. Jonah had been standing next to Gesslin and Moses. Seeing the confrontation Moses had picked up his long rifle ready to assist the lieutenant if need be. Croghan had been standing on the rampart during the entire time, as well. Seeing Dixon intervene with the brave, Moses lowered his long rifle.

Croghan then called down to his lieutenant,
“Shipp, come in and we will blow them all to hell.”

Once he entered the fort, Shipp spoke to Moses, “I’m obliged. I saw you were ready to dispatch that savage.”

“Wasn’t nothing, sir, but the Indian was as close as he’ll ever come to dying without actually being dead. Besides my Betsy, I ‘spect that brave had enough muskets trained on his body he’d been cut to doll rags had he hurt you.”

“Well, thank you anyway,” Shipp said.

The British officers had barely returned to their post when the air seemed to explode. Shells exploded all about creating craters where they hit the ground causing it to tremble.

“Damn,” Jonah cursed. “Why’d you make them so mad, Major?”

Croghan smiled momentarily. “That’s not regular field artillery.”

“I agree,” Jonah responded. “They must have landed one of those howitzers and set it up while the colonel was demanding surrender.”

The whine of another shell was heard followed by an explosion.

“That’s got to be one of the five and a half inch guns,” Hunter volunteered, jerking as another shell landed. “Major, they seem to be concentrating most of their fire in this area. I think they noted the location from which the six-pounder was fired. I believe they’re after the cannon, only they haven’t zeroed in on it yet.”

“I believe you are right. I’ll have the sergeant shift it around. Maybe it will confuse them. Possibly even make them think we have several cannons instead of just the one.”

The cannon was shifted from one position to another, keeping up a steady barrage. This was done until a sweaty powder-stained soldier ran up to Croghan. The man gave a haphazard salute then reported. “Major Croghan, the sergeant said I should tell you we getting mighty low on powder and shot.”

Turning to Hunter, Croghan said, “Captain, have the men cease firing.”

The sun had gone down, and it had gotten dark. The only thing the men had to fire at now was flashes. The British had unloaded more guns from the gunboats and continued firing. Lieutenant Shipp had been standing on the rampart. Seeing Jonah and Moses approach, he walked over to where they came up the ladder. “I count at least five six-pounders in addition to the howitzer,” he volunteered. “You can tell the difference when they fire the howitzer compared to the six-pounders.” It appeared the young lieutenant had made a quick study of the British guns. “The big howitzer will fire, and then each of the six-pounders will follow in succession.”
He’s had plenty of time to study the guns,
Jonah thought.

The British started firing somewhere about five p.m. and had not let up. It was now almost seven p.m. and dark. Undoubtedly, they had no shortage of powder and ball.

“They don’t appear to be very good marksman,” Shipp stated. “You’d think by now we’d have gaping holes in the wall.”

“It’s too dark to do anything other than harass us,” Jonah answered. “I’m not an artillery man, but I wonder if the range might not be a bit much. They’ll likely try to get a couple of guns closer in under the cover of darkness.”

Taking a deep breath, Shipp said, “It was all a bunch of words about fighting to the last man today, but now, once the talking is over and the big guns are blazing away, I’ve realized we may actually have to die… here… fighting behind these walls.” After a pause, he asked, “Do you ever get scared, Jonah?”

“Lots of times; not right now though… but tomorrow. The British will throw all they have at us. So far, it’s just been a bunch of noise, but tomorrow when you can see them coming. That’s when you’ll get scared.”

Hearing footsteps, the men turned to see a sergeant. “Sir,” the sergeant said, speaking to Shipp. “The major said to get a detail of men and meet Captain Hunter at the middle block-house.”

That was on the north side, Jonah recalled. He had walked the area with Croghan and Hunter that afternoon. They had walked all the way around the fort, and that was where Croghan felt the main attack would come from.

“There would be a rush toward all sides, but this was where the main force will attack,” Croghan had said confidently.

Jonah had agreed with the major. Did he feel as sure now? Too late to second guess. You planned as best you could and adjusted accordingly. Jonah and Moses walked around the perimeter of the fort for something to do. At present they were mere spectators. Men were filling flour sacks to be used to reinforce any breaks in the palisade walls if that should happen.

“Think we should lend a hand?” Jonah asked.

“Wouldn’t hurt any,” Moses replied. “Besides, a little exercise will help you rest better.”

“Think we’ll be busy tomorrow?” Jonah asked his friend.

“Like as not, but you never know what the Lord has got planned.”

“Well, hopefully, he’ll be on our side tomorrow,” Jonah said picking up a shovel.

Moses picked up a flour bag so Jonah could fill it with dirt and said, “Tomorrow! I pray he’s on our side everyday.”

Chapter Seven

J
onah woke up at
dawn. Moses was already up and about. As Jonah washed up and then dressed, he realized the cannon fire was still roaring. He felt it was amazing that he could sleep through the barrage. The British must not have let up all night. He had not been awakened, so thus far there was little urgency among the fort’s defenders.

The door to the room he’d been sleeping in opened and Moses came in. The two men had been together so long that when Jonah looked to Moses as if to say,
are we in danger,
Moses just shook his head. No words had passed.

After putting on his boots, Jonah asked, “Have you eaten?”

“No,” Moses answered. “It’ll be a slim breakfast, fatback and bread. All this cannon fire has scared the chickens, so they won’t lay.”

“There’s coffee?” Jonah asked.

“Plenty,” Moses replied. “Hot and black.”

“Well, I’ve got by on less.”

“That’s the truth,” Moses said in agreement.

As the two men walked across the edge of the parade ground to the kitchen, a roar and a crash was heard. Running toward the area where the crash had come from, they could see a part of the palisade had taken a hit, and a section about four feet wide and two feet high was stove in.

Captain Hunter was already directing men to pile bags of sand against the area to fortify and reinforce it. Seeing Jonah, Hunter walked over. “Sleep well?” he asked with a smile.

“It was like they were playing a lullaby,” Jonah replied.

“Well, it might get worse this morning,” Hunter volunteered. “They moved up their cannons during the night. They’re up on a rise at the edge of the woods. At first we thought they’d just slowed down their rate of fire, then an hour or so ago we saw the flashes when they fired, so it was obvious they had been moved.”

“Hoping for greater range by moving to higher ground,” Jonah thought aloud. “Has it helped?”

Hunter used his thumb to point over his shoulder to the damaged palisade. “Some but not much,” he said.

“Have we lost anyone yet?” Jonah asked.

“No… nothing more than a few with splinters so far.”

“Thank the Lord,” Moses interjected.

Major Croghan walked up. “I’m on my way to the officer’s mess,” he said, ignoring the cannon’s fire. “Have you men broke your fast?”

When they stated they hadn’t, Croghan said, “Well, join me. We may not have time for a leisurely lunch.” This brought a chuckle from the group. Jonah motioned for Moses to come along with the group.

As they headed to the officer’s mess, Hunter called to Sergeant Benson, “Send for me if need be.”

“Yes sir,” the sergeant replied.

“Sounds like a Kentuckian,” Jonah volunteered.

“Most of us are,” Croghan answered. “Doubt they could win this war without us.”

“Well, I won’t disagree since you’re buying breakfast,” Jonah joked but realized the major’s words were probably far truer than he realized. It appeared most of the men he’d met were either Kentucky or Ohio volunteers.

Entering the officer’s mess, Jonah was glad to see Clay Gesslin was already there sipping on a cup of coffee. As the officers sat down, Gesslin raised his cup in salute.

“I was beginning to think it was a holiday and you were sleeping in.” Moses laughed at Gesslin’s comments.

“Mosley,” Croghan called to the cook. “What have you got for us this morning?”

“Fatback, biscuits and oatmeal.”

“Is there any sugar?” Croghan asked.

“If the captain hasn’t taken it like he did the flour, we do.”

Croghan turned his head toward Hunter for an explanation.

“I’m about out of sandbags,” Hunter said. “So I had a couple carts loaded with the sacks of flour and rice, ready to be used if needed.”

“Good thinking, Captain. I hope you left a few in reserves in case we get hungry.”

When Hunter didn’t reply, Croghan sighed and said, “Well, eat hearty, men. Our menu may be limited later.” They all laughed, but the reality was that there may not be a need for the supplies and each of the men knew it.

After finishing their breakfast, the men lingered over a last cup of coffee. The incessant roar of the cannons continued without respite. To break the monotony, Jonah asked, “How did Fort Stephenson come to be?”

Croghan replied, “This used to be a Catholic mission and a trading post. Located right on the river as it was, General Harrison was quick to see the strategic importance of it. The general had already started on Fort Meigs. Once it was completed, we built Fort Stephenson. Later, Fort Ball was built. General Harrison felt they would help protect the navigable waterways. By that, he was referring to the Maumee and Sandusky Rivers and the trail to the Scioto River. That’s called the Sandusky – Scioto Trail for obvious reasons.” Croghan continued. “Harrison felt protecting this was critical so that it could be used for our army in trying to defend the northwest portion of Ohio.”

Jonah was not surprised to hear that Harrison’s hand was in the planning. He’d always been a good strategist. “There aren’t any other trails?” Jonah asked.

“Not many,” Croghan acknowledged. “The rest of the land for the most part is swampy and so heavily wooded, traveling through it is almost impossible.”

“We got a taste of that didn’t we, Clay?” Jonah said recalling their travel to meet up with the army in Franklinton.

Croghan took a sip of coffee then continued his narrative of the fort’s origin. “The construction of the fort was done in 1812. When I took command in 1813, I could see the fort would never stand an attack of any size. We erected two more block-houses and built an embankment and dug the ditch. Anyone trying to assault the fort will find it hard going and at a heavy price.”

“I just hope General Proctor sees the difficulty,” Jonah said.

“I think he has, otherwise, why the twelve hours of bombardment?” Lieutenant Shipp volunteered.

“You’d think,” Gesslin interjected, “they would have heard it all the way to Washington and surely to Fort Meigs.”

“Yes, well, with Tecumseh and a few thousand warriors between us and Fort Meigs, there’s little General Clay can do,” Croghan answered.

No sooner had Croghan finished speaking than a soldier knocked on the mess hall door and entered. Saluting, he spoke, “Sergeant Benson said you’re needed, sir.”

No one was sure who the man was addressing, probably Captain Hunter, but they all got up and followed the man to the wall and climbed the ladder to the rampart. The British appeared to have moved more of their guns, and now they opened up with a brisk rate of fire.

“You’d think those guns would get too hot to work,” Lieutenant Shipp offered.

Watching the fall of the ball, Jonah wondered if the cannons’ barrels had gotten too hot to give an accurate shot. “I guess the Lord is on our side today,” he stated to Moses.

“Yes, but like I said, we need him with us today and everyday.” Jonah smiled. He didn’t disagree with Moses.

As the day progressed, breaks in the wall became far more numerous. Captain Hunter was now using the sacks of flour to shore up the wall. Seeing Jonah’s gaze, Hunter shrugged at the man. By five o’clock, the bellowing of a distant thunderstorm on the western horizon was heard above the cannons. The rumbling continued and dark storm clouds were building. Was this an ominous sign?

BOOK: War 1812
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