Nathan saw Wolsey wince. Apparently, the two men did not see eye to eye on this. “Mr. McGee, the United States is at war with Great Britain, a nation that has sunk our ships and burned our cities. Since England is so far away and since Britannia rules the waves, the only way we can reach Great Britain is through Canada. We have no quarrel with Canada or Canadians. There is no need for you to stand and protect your land, as we have no desire to take it. We only wish to march through to where the British lie. We wish no harm to Canada.”
“You burned Windsor,” McGee snapped.
“Someone very foolishly built artillery emplacements in the middle of the town,” Nathan retorted. “The fires we started we put out, and our men have helped in rebuilding the homes that were damaged.” Nathan had no idea if that had actually occurred, but it sounded nice and McGee looked surprised. McGee also had no way to check on it.
“Further,” Nathan continued, “my army is paying in gold for all the goods and services it needs. There has been no plundering, no rape, no rapine. To the best of our abilities, we are harming no one and nothing.”
This part was true. Grant had been adamant that no terrorizing of the civilian population would take place and that everything would be paid for. They would even reimburse for that which was not offered for sale and had to be commandeered. Thus, Grant's rear area was remarkably tranquil if not content.
McGee seemed hesitant, while Wolsey looked over Nathan's shoulder. The British officer was examining what he could see of the Union army's positions. Thousands of men and scores of cannon were plainly visible in an attempt to overawe the Canadians.
“Mr. McGee, let me be blunt,” Nathan said. “One way or the other, we are going forward towards Toronto. You've seen Grant's army. It is sixty thousand strong and far greater than your host.” Nathan caught Wolsey's good eye. Wolsey clearly understood that the number of sixty thousand was a gross exaggeration, but just how gross was unknown.
The inflated number, however, seemed to shock McGee. His response was subdued. “We must fight for our homes.”
“Mr. McGee, you seem to have some idea of dying gloriously for your land,” Nathan said. “Let me assure you that, if you stay, you will truly die. However, your death will not be glorious. As General Wolsey has ascertained, there are several score cannon pointed at your lines that are well within their range, while the relics you possess cannot hit ours. Since you have not entrenched, your men will be torn to bloody pieces by a hailstorm of canister. When we've bombarded your lines to a bloody pulp, the infantry will move in and kill whoever remains with bullet and bayonet.
“Have you ever seen a modern battlefield? Try to imagine all those men who trust you lying in gory bits and pieces all over the field, while those who are wounded crawl about on bloody stumps and scream for help that will never come. Then, those who do survive and flee will be run down and gutted by the sabres of the five thousand cavalry who are already behind your lines.”
McGee looked ill while Wolsey looked interested. “You can't have cavalry behind us,” McGee sputtered.
“They were moved there last night, under cover of darkness. The cavalry forded above you and swung around the town. Trust me, they're waiting.” It was partly true. About a thousand men, not five thousand, under Colonel Benjamin Grierson, had indeed crossed the Thames and were in a flanking position.
“This isn't fair,” McGee said. He looked distraught.
“War isn't fair,” said Nathan. “Ask Brigadier Wolsey how he snuck up on sleeping men in New York and butchered them while they slept. Fair is for golf or tennis, Mr. McGee, not for war, sir, where there is only one rule, and that is to kill the enemy.”
Wolsey nodded and finally spoke. “You are indeed correct, Colonel Hunter, war is far from fair.”
McGee looked beaten. The great show was drawing to a close. “What does General Grant propose?” the Canadian asked, his voice almost a whisper.
Nathan took a deep breath. Maybe the massacre really could be avoided. “Very simple. You and your men will lay down your arms and depart for your homes. You will not take up arms against the United States again.”
McGee blinked in astonishment. “No imprisonment?”
“None for those who agree to our terms.” Nathan did not add that Grant had no desire to house, feed, and guard thousands of Canadians at this time.
Nathan made a show of pulling his watch out of his pocket. “We will give you two hours. Any armed men who remain here after that will be considered hostile and will be dealt with accordingly. Any who accept our terms will gather, unarmed, in a field outside of town, where our clerks will take their names and send them on their way. Any who are armed and heading eastward on Dundas Street or otherwise en route to Toronto will be destroyed.”
“But what about those who live towards Toronto?” McGee asked, a stammer in his voice.
Nathan stifled a grin of elation. It was going to work. “They will wait until our army passes. Then they may go wherever they wish as long as they are unarmed.”
McGee turned towards Wolsey. “Cardigan sent you here to advise me, General Wolsey. Advise me now, for God's sake.”
Wolsey shrugged. “Everything Colonel Hunter has said is true. You are outnumbered, outgunned, and poorly placed, and this river is no obstacle at all, which is obvious by virtue of the fact that we are in its middle and our horses are scarcely getting wet. General Grant, a man who has been successful in a number of battles, has it within his power to destroy thousands of lives without losing a man. Instead, he offers terms that are far more than generous. I strongly urge you to tell your followers to take them.”
“I will do that,” McGee said as he nodded sadly. He turned and rode back to shore, where he was immediately surrounded by a dozen or so men. In a few moments, the group broke up and the Canadians began to move away from the river, some laying their weapons on the ground and not waiting for them to be gathered later. Most of them were their personal arms, but losing them was a small price to pay for a future life.
“And what will you do now. General Wolsey?” Nathan asked. The two men had remained in the river, waiting and watching the tableaux unfold.
Wolsey smiled. “Why, Colonel, I shall be riding back to Toronto as fast as I can, all the while trying to avoid your phantom five thousand cavalry and your equally nonexistent sixty-thousand-man army.”
Nathan grinned in return. Under different circumstances, Wolsey would be an easy man to like. “I thought of saying we had a hundred thousand, but was afraid that was too great a lie to be swallowed even by a foolish man like McGee.”
“How many do you actually have?” Wolsey asked disingenuously.
Nathan laughed at the impertinence of the question. “You'll find out soon enough.” Nathan saluted the British general, who returned the salute.
“By the way, Colonel Hunter,” Wolsey said as he turned to ride off. “That was extremely well played and I congratulate you. There truly is no meaning or glory in the slaughter of foolish innocents.”
Billy Harwell was one of the first to arrive at Otto the Kraut's body. Otto had been standing guard during the night, and his relief found him facedown in the mud. He had been robbed and his throat had been cut.
On seeing his friend's pale, blood-drained skin and the gaping slice that had nearly decapitated him, Billy had howled and begun to cry like a baby. Others had looked away in understanding at the display; they had felt equally awful when their own companions had been killed in battle. This wasn't battle, however, this was slaughter. Otto had been butchered like a sheep.
Captain Melcher immediately called for a head count and it showed that Private Grimes, their disgraced former sergeant, was missing.
A hue and cry was raised with the entire regiment's several hundred men taking part in it. Within a couple of hours, Grimes was found in a nearby barn, dead drunk, and with a pocket watch that Billy identified as his own. He had loaned it to Otto, who liked to use it to tell time when he was standing guard. Grimes had some money on him, but it was impossible to determine where it came from.
The watch was enough. Grimes was court-martialed for murder and desertion, and quickly found guilty of both. Death by firing squad was the sentence.
Tradition said that the condemned man's comrades would form the firing squad, and, thus, Billy wasn't surprised that his was one of the six names drawn from a hat. Hell, there were only thirty men left in the company, and no officers or the first sergeant were eligible, which further reduced the odds. He also had his
