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 gonna be so easy. All them Catholic Frenchmen in Canada were so eager to rise up agin the King and jine us. And France was gonna send ships and troops to invade up the St. Lawrence at the same time. Only," he said, "turned out the French Canucks didn't like us no better than they did the redcoats, and Nelson caught the invasion fleet leaving France and made fishbait of the poor bastards, and the weather turned against us-Jesus H.Christ, you wouldn't believe it could get that cold!"
"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 channel; apparently there were several groundings. Still, it did seem they were taking their time.
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 cannon. The years seemed to drop from him at such times; he was in his element. For myself I was happier when we returned to the palace, where I could be in mine.
Thus it was that I was with the Emperor the day it all came down.
It was a dank and chilly morning, three days before year's end. A heavy gray fog had moved in off Lake Borgne during the previous evening, and now hung above the river and the eastern swamps, and the plantation fields between, as we rolled southward along the river road. Sitting up on the seat next to the driver, I wrapped a blanket about myself and cursed through my chattering teeth. What a ghastly day to go out, but the Emperor was quite insistent. Nelson's ships had been sighted on the river the previous afternoon, only a few miles south of English Turn; clearly the time was almost at hand.
Suddenly a horseman appeared through the fog up ahead, riding hard toward us. Seeing us, he took off his hat and began waving it frantically up and down.
The driver and I looked at each other. I shrugged and, after a moment, the driver pulled the horses to a stop.
Almost immediately a window opened beneath us and the Emperor's voice came up to us, demanding to know why we were stopping. But by that time the rider was upon us; a slender handsome young man, dressed, I saw now, in the bright uniform of an ensign in the Louisiana Hussars.
"Please," he gasped, "sir-uh, y'r Majesty-"
"Never mind," the Emperor said impatiently. "What do you want, lad?"
The boy-he really was not much more-took a deep breath and gathered himself visibly. "I have to report, your Majesty," he said with strained formality, "that the enemy are attacking our position in strength."
The Emperor's head appeared through the carriage window. "What?" he cried, and then paused, hearing, now that the horses' hooves were silent, the distant rattle and pop of musket fire from somewhere on down the river.
"But the guns," he said then, staring at the horseman. "I hear neither our artillery nor the ships' guns!"
The lad shook his head. "Not the ships, sir. They came in from the east-looks like they crossed Lake Borgne yesterday, in the fog, and moved up through the bayous, and then early this morning they came up out of the swamp and across the plantation fields-one of Colonel Crockett's scouts spotted them, but, uh, well, General Jackson didn't believe him at first-" He stopped, looking appalled at his own indiscretion. "Uh, that is to say-"