Alternate Generals II

Reaching the corner, still at a run, I almost collided with a couple of buckskin-clad figures. A hand grabbed my jacket and pulled me to a stop, and I started to protest, but then I recognized the laughing faces of Colonel Crockett and Captain Houston. "Here, now," Houston said, "what's the hurry?"

"Been talking to the old Mar-kee?" Crockett asked, gri

I was too breathless to speak. "Come on," Houston said. "We were just on our way to get us a drink."

They pulled me into a dark and dingy little tavern, where a few idlers sat talking and playing cards. A burly man in homespun clothing looked at me and said loudly, "No niggers allowed in here!" — and in less than a second found himself on his back on the floor, with Crockett's foot on his chest and Houston's knife at his throat.

"You got something to say," Crockett inquired gently, "about who we choose to drink with?"

A few minutes later we were seated in the rear of the room with a jug on the table before us. The people at the nearby tables had considerately moved away and given us our privacy. The one who had spoken first was nowhere to be seen.

"Drink up," Houston advised me. "You look like you could use it."

The raw corn whiskey was quite the worst drink I had ever tasted, but I managed to get a little down, and my nerves did settle a bit. Crockett and Houston applied themselves to the jug with gusto. "Damn good booze," Crockett said approvingly. "Here's to Andy Jackson, the son of a bitch."

"Better drink to crazy old King George," Houston suggested. "Could be we ought to get in practice."

"Is it that bad?" I asked.

"Half a dozen years ago," Crockett said, "I would have said we'll kick their asses back into the Gulf. Now-" He shrugged. "This army ain't what it used to be."

"Oh, shit," Houston said dolefully. "Here he goes again, playing the old soldier."

"Playing hell. I been in this from the start, son. I was toting a rifle under Old Hickorynuts back when we were just a bunch of raggedy-assed rebels, didn't know what we were getting into except that Burr made it sound good and his little French pard was the fightingest one human we'd ever saw. I was there when we marched into this town for the first time and kicked the Dons out, when you were still just a brat."

He paused to lubricate his throat. "And I was there when we fought Mister President Jefferson's pitiful little army-the ones that didn't run away or change sides-when the States tried to take Te

He spat on the dirt floor. "Then we couldn't quit. Spent a year putting that fool Joseph on the throne of Mexico and another two years trying to keep him there-quit looking at me like that, Albert, I don't give a coon's ass whose brother he was, he was a God-damned fool and ending up in front of a 'dobe wall was no more than he deserved."

I grabbed the jug and took another drink. This time it went down almost easily.

"Used up a big piece of the army in Mexico," Crockett continued, "specially the cavalry. Lost Pike there, too, best damn officer we had, Jackson ain't a scratch on Zeb Pike's ass as a general. Then before we'd even started to recover-"

"Canada," Houston said. "He's going to tell about Canada."

"What for? Ever'body in the whole world knows what happened. Shit." He made a face. "Oh, it was go

"And Tecumseh picking that time," Houston said, "while you were all off up north, to set the tribes on the war path. I remember that."

"Yep. So we had to fight our way through the Indians just to get back home. What there was left of us," Crockett said bitterly.

Houston said, "But that was eighteen-twelve, Davy. They got the army built back up now, nearly to strength."

"They got a bunch of men carrying weepons. Takes more than that to make an army. Them white-trash boys jine up to get away from home, soljering looks easier than plowing and the uniform's good to impress the girls, but they never seen no real fighting. 'Cept now and then marching off with Andy Jackson to burn out some village of peaceful Creeks, sure as hell never faced British reg'lars. Neither have you, either of you."

"True," I said. "The Emperor never takes me on campaign." For which God, if He exists, be thanked on bended knee.

"It ain't like nothing you ever seen." Crockett shuddered. "The way they come on, all in step, not making a sound, it'sskeery is what it is. And that was just Packenham's men in Canada, not even top regiments. Wellington's boys are supposed to be even better. Can we stop 'em? Damn if I know."

He fell silent, his face morose. Houston reached for the jug. "Don't pay Davy any mind," he said. "It'll be all right."

A few days later Fort St. Philippe fell.

"Never seen nothing like it," Colonel Crockett told the Emperor and the others, at the hastily-convened council that followed. "They bombarded that place steady, all night and all day and all the next night too. Must of throwed in every mortar shell in the Royal Navy. Then, the second morning they stopped shelling, and here come the marines out of the woods and rushed the fort. Didn't take long, there weren't no real defense left. Me and Sam watched the whole thing from across the river."

"Thank you for the report, Colonel." The Emperor's shoulders sagged. "This is terrible. The river is now open, almost all the way to the city. Latour, can we put in more batteries downstream?

"No time, my Emperor. Moving and emplacing guns in that terrain-" General Latour shook his head. "Besides, we have concentrated all our available artillery at English Turn, on your Majesty's orders. We would have to take away-"

"No, no, you are right. We must not weaken the defenses there. Well." The Emperor sighed. "At least now there is no doubt where they will come."

"Beg the Emperor's pardon, I'm not so sure." Crockett was looking thoughtful. "They're on the river, all right, but not all of them. Not nigh as many ships as we seen when they first showed up. And no telling where the others are, now they got Lafitte's boys bottled up in the Barataria."

"Holding back a reserve," Jackson said, snorting. "Any fool can see that, by the Almighty!"

"Maybe," Crockett said. "Guess we'll know the answers soon enough."

But the British were slow in coming. Not an easy business, of course, working their way against that current and negotiating the tricky cha

Christmas came, and was duly celebrated by the French and Spanish Catholics of the city, though ignored or scorned by the Protestant Americans. The Emperor attended mass at the great church, as usual concealing his personal agnosticism beneath a cloak of public piety.

All other days, he rode down to the site of the defensive works at the great river bend called English Turn. There was a fairly good road along the levee, so he went by carriage; and, for unclear reasons, I was required to go along. There was nothing much to see but a lot of earthworks along the river, and black and white men laboring alike to reinforce them with sandbags, while others wrestled guns into position. I stood by and shivered in the chilly wind-it was a cold winter for New Orleans-while the Emperor bustled about, talking with officers and men, now and then personally supervising the placement of a ca