He Dreamed {Chapter 1, Part 1 Up!}

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The War of 1812 was a violent but short war between Great Britain and the United States, a brand-new country at the time. The war was mainly over Britain's violation of the US's foreign trade rights, as Britain kept seizing American ships and impressing the USA's sailors. Britain was mad at the USA over the fact that they were delivering supplies in the form of trade to France, with whom Britain was currently at war. But one of the other great reasons, one of the other great tension-causers, was that Great Britain continued to stir up trouble between the Native Americans and United States citizens. Finally, it boiled into war.

During the course of the war, not only soldiers suffed, but women and children too. Indeed, young men, even at such ages of 13 or 14, were taken into the army to follow in their fathers' footsteps. This is the story of one such young man, by the name of James Willens.

Table of Contents:

Prologue
Chapter One, Part One

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Prologue

"James! Don't go! William, don't make my little boy go!" A woman danced step-by-step down the stairs of a luxurious-looking manor, holding up the skirt of her lacy dress to keep from tripping. Breathless, she stopped at the foot of the stairs, brushing a strand of scarlet hair out of her face. She stood in front of three men, all of them dressed in regal attire, two of whom held long cavalry swords at their sides. The third man, who was tall and thick with a handsome, muscular face, looked straight into the eyes of the woman.

"Martha, James is practically a man. He can hold his own. The army heading to regain Detroit needs a drummer, and to volunteer our son would be the height of honor."

"Oh, bother your honor, William! He's just a boy! He's not even old enough to be a drummer yet." The woman's face was rebellious, and she stomped her foot as she spoke. A boy with bright green eyes and a dark, well-combed swirl of brown hair peered out from behind one of the soldiers. The woman spotted him and shook with - fright? rage?

"James dear, come here. Come to your mother. Tell your father that you can't go!" The shaky pleading in Martha's voice was nearly hysterical, yet somehow it sparked a bit of defiance in James. Did she think he wasn't good enough to fight for his country?

"Mother, I want to help America! I want to help regain Detroit from the Brits!" James's voice was bright and calm, making him sound much braver than he felt. William smiled, "See, Martha? He's a patriot, this one." William ruffled his son's hair, and James smiled. "Shall we be off, then?"

The soldiers nodded, and William raised his head to call to the stableboy, asking him to bring their horses. As William mounted a tall chestnut steed, James glanced around. There was still one horse left, a lonely honey-bay, saddled and ready to ride. Reading the look on his son's bewildered yet hopeful face, William smiled. "That one's for you, boy." James gasped, then gave a little laugh as one of the soldiers lifted him onto his horse. It was quickly stifled, though; he was a true drummer now. He did not want to appear childish. His father smiled some more; there was no doubt that James was truly his favorite son. James waved happily to his mother, his home, and his younger brothers and sister who were standing in the doorway watching. Carrying saddlebags with clothes and food for a journey to his new home, the party of four set off with never a backwards glance.

In their wake they left Martha, lying in the dirt, practically moaning in anguish. None of them heard her words as they moved on, though.

"James, oh my boy, James, James...please come back safe, James...please come back..."

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Chapter One, Part One

James and William trotted through the woods alongside the soldiers for another couple hours before any one spoke. It was just too silent, to beautiful, in these woods to talk. James had never been anywhere like it. The trees were so emerald-shaded that his brown jacket began to reflect the mossy tones, making him look like a part of the woods. James's horse, the honey-bay beauty he'd nicknamed Tucker (though he didn't tell that to any of the men traveling with him), picked his way elegantly over stone, brush and briar, tripping perhaps once the entire ride. It was a warm day as well, and James was about to peel off his jacket when his father stopped him.

James hadn't noticed it before, but the men, the soldiers and his father, had been watchful and stony-faced the entire time. They cast glances back and forth, and when William spoke for the first time in hours, one of the soldier's hands gripped tightly on the gun in his pocket.

"Leave your jacket on, James. If anything should happen, that jacket'll blend in better with these woods than that white shirt you've got underneath."

James was bewildered. "But sir, father, what might happen?"

William just shook his head and went back to his riding. He didn't need to tell James any more, however, for it'd just struck him: Indians. Were there Indians in these woods? Surely no British were nearby, and if they were blending in wouldn't matter. It would if there were Indians in this forest, though. James began to glance around, white-faced and trying not to start at the breaking of a twig Tucker snapped.

After another couple hours, James's heartbeat began to settle. Surely, if any savages were in these woods, they'd've shown themselves by now, right? Instead, James's mind began to burst with questions. How much longer till they caught up with the soldiers he was supposed to join? Would he do his job right? James had been preparing for over a month to be a drummer in the war. Some, like his mother, said he was too young. But most, like his father, William, his older brother George who'd gone off to fight in the war, and his Uncle Tom, said it was a fine thing, training to be a drummer at that age.

As the sun sank and the moon rose (they could see either only by the changing of light in the forest), one of the soldiers suggested they set up camp for the night. William grunted his approval, but only because he wanted his son prepared for the next day; it would be a hard one.

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Okay, so Ch1 Prt1 is now up!