Darkness

April 5, 1812

New Orleans

Nicholas

The timing is starting to become quite predictable. I thought it was possible the steamboat might arrive sometime late yesterday, but more likely this morning. And sure enough, here it is only mid-way through the morning, and through the window we see the belching smoke and hear the characteristic pounding of the piston engine before we can even see our beloved ship round a bend and come into view.

I have been meeting with David and George in their offices overlooking the river, and when we realize the boat is arriving they immediately deploy their crew into action. Our whole group is waiting at the steamboat dock as they pull in, just as Gregor’s crew always is on the north end of the route.

The Talcott and Bowers team takes over with breathtaking efficiency and precision. The arriving passengers are quickly shepherded off the ship, any necessary transportation arranged, and the cargo begins to be unloaded. I wonder if someday Gregor will get the chance to come down here and observe. I’m sure that he and George and David would have a lot to talk about, and perhaps could coordinate their efforts on both ends of the route.

For now, though, things seem well in hand, and I invite Baker and Abigail to come back to my brother-in-law’s house with me. Lydia will want to hear everything they have to say about their most recent foray to Natchez.

As we are walking home, Baker asks, “How have things been in New Orleans for the past two weeks?”

“Well,” I tell him, “the newspapers are reporting that the United States Congress is in the process of approving the Louisiana Constitution, and last we heard they were about to vote on the Bill of Admission. It is likely that Louisiana will become a full state soon, maybe even by the end of the month.”

“Huh,” he says. I don’t think he has ever paid much attention to politics. “Do you suppose that will change anything for us? For the boat?”

“Actually, probably not. We’ll be able to just continue running our route.”

He nods.

“In other news,” I say, “The War Hawks in Congress are apparently having increasing success advocating for a declaration of war against England. I think it is likely to happen fairly soon. Lydia and I want to book passage on an Atlantic ship quickly and hopefully will have arrived in New York before the Atlantic waters become too dangerous. We will probably depart in a few days. We just wanted to wait until you got back before we made our final plans.”

Abigail tells me, “I’ll be so sorry to see you go. I’m really going to miss you and Lydia.”

Baker nods his agreement, but then frowns. “What is the point of going to war? We’ve already won our independence from England. Isn’t that enough?” Abigail watches him ask this question, then turns to me, waiting for my response.

“Apparently the War Hawks argue that the British are not respecting us as a separate sovereign nation, and that war is the only way to demonstrate our power as an independent country. From what I understand,” I say, “the main argument is that English ships are interfering with our trade, and of course impressing our sailors.” He nods. We have all heard of this. “More ships came into port here while you were gone that had run into trouble with the British navy on the seas.”

He frowns, and Abigail takes his arm as we continue walking.

I’m not done. “Then there’s the way that England is agitating the situation with the Indians. They are treating directly with some of the tribes, trying to encourage them to take arms against our country. It’s apparently causing increased Indian attacks against settlements. There have been terrible stories in the newspapers. The tribes are in conflict among themselves over it. Some want to support us, and some want to support England, although I can’t imagine how they think that would be any better for them.”

Abigail looks tense at the mention of the troubles with the Indians. We learned on our journey from Pittsburgh how terrified she is of them. I change the direction of the conversation. “I think there is more to it than all that, though. I suspect that the real reason is that people want our country to have access to more territory to expand into, west and even north into Canada. War might be the best way to expand our borders.”

We have arrived at home, so the political discussion will have to be tabled for now. Lydia greets us at the door with our infant son Henry riding on one hip, and our daughter Rosetta rushing out the door to jump up onto Abigail. The sight brings a smile to my face, just like always.

“Welcome back!” Lydia greets the Bakers. “Come in!”