A Report from the Field 4

It didn't take but a short time for the Captain and his Lady to return with Miss Waterman. We sat her on a bench at the Hickory Tavern and began to ask her questions about where she had been and who she had encountered. Miss Waterman was as lovely as ever in her white dress and green spencer.

We gave Miss Waterman her parole and advised her that we may have need of her in the future. 

We returned to the fairgrounds and questioned the British Indian Agent who followed Miss Waterman. The fellow had even used his own wife to aid in the work! They relayed the route taken by Miss Waterman in her mission to deliver the Packet to the American Spy. Mrs. Kelly relayed in great detail Miss Waterman's exploits, she had met with a large group of fashionable ladies on the road next to the furniture shop, she had encountered Mr. Jesse Mains from Kentucky, she encountered the Tumbusches, and then disappeared for a bit behind the Black Horse tavern where she could not be seen by the Kellys. They said when she finally emerged, she was followed shortly thereafter by an unknown woman in a blue dress and a purple turban. 

Mrs. Kelly claimed that she had SEEN with her own eyes Miss Waterman pass the packet to Mr. Tumbusch. She was very adamant about it.

We now had a workable list of suspects which consisted of: 

Tom Tumbusch - former Acasta and a mutual friend of Myself and Miss Waterman

Jesse Mains - a fellow from the Kentucky Territory

The Woman in blue - an unknown element

Mr. Alexander, Bosun's Mate

Mr. Raley and his division accompanied me to Mr. Barker's wagoneer camp where the oxen lay in the shade avoiding the mid-day heat. There stood Jesse Mains with his rifle in hand as he spoke with a fellow there in camp. 

We milled about the entrance for a bit, I taking an opportunity to have a look over Mr. Main's person in an attempt to ascertain if he might have a place to hide the packet. He was in possession of a small pouch and a small wallet on his belt either might be a place to hide the documents. I am not ashamed to confess that I approached Mr. Mains with some trepidation, knowing his reputation as a frontiersman from the Kentucky Territory. I knew that if he decided to fight, the lot of us might not be able to prevent his escape. 

We had the strategic advantage for sure, the lot of us blocking the only clear exit from camp, and Mr. Barker and Mr. Main's conversation companion were not obviously armed. 

I waited for there to be a lull in their conversation when I asked loudly, "Mr. Mains? May we have a word with you?" 

Mr. Mains

He seemed surprised, but moved toward us slowly and with deliberation, I breathed a sigh of relief when he passed his weapon off to Mr. Barker who laid it casually across his lap. 

I questioned him as to his encounter with Miss Waterman that morning. He seemed quite at a loss, and claimed not to have been passed anything by the young lady in question. While he did not submit to a search, he did show us the small pouch and the wallet on his belt, and I was satisfied that they did not hold the packet we sought. 

We thanked Mr. Mains for his cooperation and requested that he not leave the area in the event that we might have further need of him. As we left the camp, it occurred to me that Miss Waterman had met with him directly in the middle of the road where she might be seen easily by any onlookers. 

I was now more convinced than ever that Mr. Mains was not in possession of the packet.

A Report from the Field 3

 Saturday came and the Fair opened with the usual amount of enthusiasm and excitement. 

A local 'birdhouse' board.

Before the official opening ceremonies, Mr. Raley was ordered to take a small detachment out to the fairgrounds and pass out bills to the merchants as well as posting them on the local 'birdhouses' and in other such publick places. It was a small broadside advertising a Fifty Pound Reward for information leading to the safe return of the stolen documents. 

The Broadside, click to read.

At opening ceremonies, New Boston surrendered to Brock without a shot, and Captain Freymann was there at Brock's side as the announcement was made to the populace. There was the usual jeering and expressions of displeasure, but when the local militia was dismissed, they offered up no trouble and the fair went on as usual. 

Capt. Freymann and I with our telescopes trained.

Afterwards, the Acastas made their way to the Hickory Tavern located upon the hill at the Northeast end of the fair. From this vantage point we surveilled the courier as she went about the business of delivering the packet of stolen documents to the yet unknown American Spy. 

She made her way away from the Tavern down Medicinal Springs Road, stopping along the way to socialize on several occasions, but not passing the packet off to any of them. We then lost sight of her briefly, as she ducked just out of our line of sight.

Like spotting the proverbial needle in the haystack.

I spotted her a few moments later as she stood at the South end of Wood Workers Lane. There she stood, as bold as you please in the middle of the road with Jesse Mains. They stood there for a few moments and conversed, and from such a great distance it appeared that she might have passed him something, but Capt Freymann and I were uncertain. 

The Captain and Mrs. A.

She then left his company and disappeared into the thick crowds again. We did not see her again until we were certain she had made the drop, and Capt Freymann and his Lady, Mrs. Ashbourne, went to retrieve her. 

A Report from the Field 2

We arrived in New Boston on Friday and laid out our camp atop a grand hill that overlooked the site of the annual trade fair. The wind was constant from SWbS and played havoc with the canvas as we attempted to get it set up. Our camp consisted of a large 10x10 tent, a 12x12 dining fly flanked by a multitude of wedge tents. 

Mr. Houston and I beneath the Acasta dining fly

Mr. Alexander and Raley in camp.

 The party from the Acasta consisted of Captain Freymann and his Clerk Mr. Cushing, First Lieutenant Hamilton, Second Lieutenant Ramsey, Midshipman Raley, Myself, Master Minnis, Coxswain Mr. Houston and Bosun's mate Mr. Alexander. 

Our camp was overjoyed to learn that Brock's forces had taken Detroit and had even come in so far as New Boston. The Americans were sure to surrender New Boston after such a morale crushing blow as Detroit! 

Mr. G. Kelly

If the area was taken for the King, it would make our time in the area all the more pleasant, giving us our liberty to shop and socialize a bit instead of having to sneak about like criminals or spies. 

Lt. Ramsey, in plainclothes, secured the aid of the local Indian Agent, an Irishman by the name of Mr. Kelly, to follow Miss Waterman, the courier who was to pass off the packet to the American Spy. He was exactly as I would have imagined such a character, rough-hewn and native in his dress and eccentric in his appearance.

From the Surgeon's Personal Log 20

ededThe analysis of my recent trouble continues.

On a nature walk

I really only desire to be in the company of ONE individual in particular. We were thrown together a good deal during my mission to Upper York, Niagara on the Lakes and our shared adventures while on my way back to the Acasta.

 We have known each other near these two years now, thrust together after the attentions of a meddling Aunt in London. From the very beginning, Miss Waterman's Aunt seemed to be on a campaign designed solely to bring us together. Miss Waterman was sent to the United States where she was given over to the care of her new guardians, the Hegewoods. We were much in the same social circles as I was in my state of half pay from the Navy. Through letters and our many encounters at various parties, balls and other such events I have discovered that Miss Waterman and I share a multitude of common thoughts and interests.

Reading to my girls

 She is fashionable, clever, well bred, talented, brave and curious about the world around her. I enjoy her company above any woman I have previously encountered. Even upon my re-entering His Majesty's service on the outbreak of this new war with the United States, she has been steadfast and loyal as no other could ever be.

Playing at tug-of-war

And though she is four and twenty years and of an age where fashionable society fears she has lost her bloom, I shall have none of this. She is, to my eye, the most striking woman I have ever encountered, not only in her exterior appearance, but she possesses that bright inner beauty as well.

A stolen kiss under the mistletoe.

I have come to the conclusion after much careful contemplation that the root of my recent troubles springs from the fact that, I am hopelessly in love with Miss Emily Waterman.

A Report from the Field

A party of Acastas, whose names will be kept from my log entries until after the mission is concluded, was rowed ashore this morning in the early hours in an attempt to avoid detection by the local populous. As we grew closer to the coast in our long boat we suspect that a small boat of local fishermen may have seen us as we slipped through the water in the fore-dawn darkness, but it is difficult to be certain, and my vision in that dim light is not what I would like it to be. 

We have been given another mission to retrieve stolen documents from the hands of an American Spy known to be in the vicinity of New Boston. It is believed that the spy is in the area where the annual fair takes place. 

Once we arrive in the area, our task will be to set up camp and conduct an investigation to discover the identity of the American Spy and recover the stolen documents. 

Lt Ramsey and I after the capture of the courier
at Mississinewa.

We are currently making our way inland toward New Boston as quickly as we can. We are a larger party than on previous operations of this sort, as the area of New Boston currently houses large encampments of American Militiamen and Army troops. 

There are several immediate disadvantages that spring to mind in this current mission as opposed to a similar mission undertaken at Mississinewa last year. 

Firstly, there is a distinct lack of locally camped English forces at New Boston to aid in our efforts. At Mississinewa, there was a great encampment of British soldiers, a force at least equal in size to the Americans there. At New Boston there is the American Militia encamped on the north end of the fairgrounds and the American Army encamped at the south. This coupled by the patrols of the local Constable(s), means that the Acastas will be hopelessly outnumbered by enemy forces. 

The American Militia at New Boston

New Boston is not completely without allies, there is a fairly sized Indian encampment that may be sympathetic to our cause. 

Another disadvantage that comes to mind is the size of the fairgrounds themselves. The Fair at New Boston is much smaller in scale than Mississinewa and will offer fewer places to seek refuge from enemy forces in the event our operation is discovered. 

A third disadvantage in my own mind is the uneasiness I feel at undertaking such a mission with men I have previously not been in the field with. Operations at sea are one thing, but it is many a sailor that does not function half as well on land.

We are scheduled to arrive in the area of New Boston on or about 1st Sept.

If you will be in the vicinity of New Boston this coming weekend, you are invited to join us!

You are cordially invited...

The Fair at New Boston is an official HMS Acasta event this year in honor of the War of 1812. Reenactors and public alike will have a grand time of the Fair!

The crew of the Acasta is planning on playing the SPY GAME again at New Boston, and it promises to be great fun. We'll keep our readers updated on the happenings.

From the Surgeon's Perosnal Log 19

The analysis of my recent trouble continues. 

Thus far I have observed that I was rude to the sailors who lined up the main mast for sick call this morning, I was short with Vasserman when he was late with my breakfast, I was sullen whilst instructing my assistants in the airing out of the lower decks. I sulked while observing the drying of the ballast, I huffed and puffed profusely as I made my daily log entries and I was utterly distracted while I paid my scheduled visits to the sick men in their hammocks. I took no joy in the sighting of a distant ship that was thought to be a great potential prize, yet felt the sting of disappointment when we lost sight of her later. 

What is worse, I believe my troubles have garnered the notice of Captain Freymann and the officers, I am certain I caught them discussing it this morning on the quarterdeck. They seemed embroiled in a great conversation, then as I approached, they all seemed to stop speaking simultaneously in the most awkward fashion. 

To be sure, they have all been uncommon kind in their attempts to draw me out from my worries. I have declined multiple invitations to dinner and supper in the great cabin with Captain Freymann, instead preferring to dine alone. I have barely played cards with the gentlemen in the wardroom, and when I have, it has only served to annoy me. The companionship of my fellows aboard ship, which I normally find quite enjoyable, has simply not done to suit me of late.