Washington D.C., The United States of America, August 1814

After the ignominious defeat at the Battle of Bladensburg, Washington had fallen. Jonathan and Jake had put up a valiant attempt at defending the city with a last-minute charge to the enemy but to no avail. The seamen in Jonathan’s command had halted the British for a moment. However, their superior numbers and better training soon got the better of them. This last line of American defense disintegrated, resulting in the capture of many including Jonathan and Jake.

Afterward, the enemy arrived in the city around sunset, prompting a U.S. captain to order the Washington Navy Yard set ablaze, including two warships, much timber, and a sawmill. Around the same time, the British burned down a private residence from which some Americans had just fired at them. For the most part, though, the British left private property alone, focusing their attention instead on the city’s government buildings.

Seeking revenge for the sacking of York in Canada by the Americans, the British had first stopped at the still-uncompleted Capitol, where they piled up furniture in both the House and Senate wings, mixed in rocket powder and applied the torch. Within minutes, flames were shooting out through the windows and roof, damaging not only the congressional chambers, but also the Library of Congress and the Supreme Court, which were located inside.

Afterward, about one hundred and fifty men marched down Pennsylvania Avenue to President’s House. Upon consuming food and wine that had been set out for forty people, they stole some keepsakes, like Madison’s medicine chest, and started a new inferno that left the structure a charred wreck. The adjacent Treasury building was also burned, although much to their disappointment, the British found no money inside. As they camped that night on Capitol Hill, the glow from the fires could be seen as far away as Baltimore.

It was how it stood as Jonathan hobbled to the largest tent in the British camp. During the battle, a British regular had shot him in the thigh. After that, his men had fled, leaving Jonathan, Jake and a few of the braver sorts behind. Their eventual capture had been unavoidable.

The soldier accompanying Jonathan held up the flap to the tent. “The Rear Admiral will see you now, sir,” he said.

Jonathan nodded. “Thank you.” He stepped inside.

“Good evening, sir. You and your men have given us the only fighting we have had,” Cockburn declared of Jonathan and his seamen. He had a wry grin on his face. “It is a pleasure to meet the man who led them in a such a valiant charge.”

“You honor me, sir,” said Jonathan. He swayed on his legs in the command tent set up for Rear Admiral Cockburn. It was located a little further afield from his men in the center of Washington D.C. The tent was lit by a series of sconces, lining the side of the temporary abode. The temperature was stifling inside. Something told Jonathan that a storm was in the making.

“I say…you are a brave man. Your origins must be English,” continued Cockburn with a smirk on his face.

“Scottish actually, sir,” said Jonathan. He felt a stabbing pain in his thigh from where the musket ball had passed clean through it. The British surgeon had patched him up as best he could. He, Jake and what was left of his command were now prisoners of war.

“Ah, I see. You are from the land that births some of the finest warriors. I have heard of tales of the Scottish regiments marching unimpeded against the French in Spain and Portugal. You, sir, certainly have their blood. Your charge earlier today was miraculous and brave, to say the least. Had you had more men, you might have turned the tide of the battle, and I might be standing before you your prisoner,” said Cockburn.

“But we didn’t; the day was yours, sir.” Jonathan eyed the tall man with the long face. He resembled a man who knew victory and his illustrious career spoke of many successes.

“Please sit down, sir.” The Rear Admiral frowned. “How’s the leg. I hope it doesn’t ail you too much?”

“I was fortunate that your surgeon knows his trade. He removed the musket ball without much trouble,” said Jonathan, gratefully taking a seat opposite his captor.

Cockburn chuckled. “He’s had a lot of practice as of late…with the wars in Europe and here.” He dipped his head to the servant standing by the side of the large tent. “May I offer you some wine? It is rather good, courtesy of your president. My men obtained it at President’s House earlier today.”

“Yes, I don’t mind if I do.” His words were courteous, but his thoughts were not. It rankled him that Washington had fallen so easily. That fool General Winder was most probably miles away in ignominious retreat. He had made a big mess of the battle with his dithering. Instead of attacking the British, he had allowed them to march all the way up the side of the Patuxent River to Bladensburg.

“To victory,” said Cockburn, raising his short claret glass. He emitted a throaty laugh when he saw Jonathan’s reluctance. “Come now, sir, be a good sport. This was our victory, but maybe tomorrow will be yours.” He raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I never asked for your name, sir.”

Jonathan could not help but like the man who had been his nemesis ever since he arrived in America from his winter quarters on the Island of Bermuda in the spring of that year. Ever since he took command, the British position in the southern theater of war grew stronger. “Commodore Jonathan Mitchell, sir…at your service.”

“Well, Commodore Jonathan Mitchell, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” The Rear Admiral’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “To your daring last-minute attempt to save the day,” he said, inclining his glass a little more. “And, of course, to your speedy recovery,” he added.

Jonathan managed a smile. “I can drink to that, sir.”

“Good…” The two men clinked glasses. They remained silent as each of them savored the rich taste of the wine for a few moments.

“What do you have in mind for my men and I, sir?” asked Jonathan, placing his glass on the desk before him.

“You are to be my guest this evening and tomorrow you shall be released.”

“Oh!” This surprised Jonathan.

“Well, I can’t very well detain a brave man who did what I would have done had the situation been reversed. It would not be honorable and not becoming of an officer and a gentleman,” said Cockburn.

“I thank you for your conduct, sir. It is not often that one encounters a gentleman and a navy man with such morals.” Jonathan raised his glass again. “To an end to the war.”

“I’ll drink to that,” retorted Cockburn, inclining his head a notch. After he drank, he answered the question plaguing Jonathan’s mind. “Not to worry, your men will be well taken care of. Your second in command gave one of my officers his word earlier that he and your men will not attempt an escape while they are sharing our hospitality.” He cleared his throat. “After tonight, and if you are well enough, you will be free to leave on the morrow.”

“That is most gracious of you.”

“Of course, it is a dangerous decision to let men such as you go free. God only knows what havoc you will cause should we face one another again in battle,” said Cockburn, smiling wanly.

“We all do our duty to our country; it is all an honorable man can do,” said Jonathan, taking another sip of the excellent vintage.

“Well said, sir. We in the Navy, following in the footsteps of the great Lord Nelson, always say ‘thank God I have done my duty.’”

“He was a great man and the most able seaman that ever lived,” said Jonathan, meaning it. He admired the admiral that had defeated the French on so many occasions and often against great odds.

Cockburn arched his eyebrows. “You must have seen some action other than your command of the flotilla in the Chesapeake?”

“Yes, I did. I used to command the Triton, a frigate off the American coast and in the Caribbean Sea.”

“Ah, I knew it. You are Black Joe.” Cockburn laughed throatily. “Your reputation precedes you. We should have impressed you into the Royal Navy, but then I doubt we would have ever captured you on the high seas. Your exploits are well renowned among his majesty’s navy and we could have done well with a man of your talents.”

“I am loyal to the United States of America, sir,” responded Jonathan.

“Indeed, you are, sir. And your country is lucky to have you.” Rear Admiral Cockburn motioned for his servant to come to the desk. He asked him for more wine and that he serve the evening meal. “You will, of course, partake in a small bite to eat with me, sir?”

Jonathan nodded. “I would be delighted to share my supper with a fellow seaman.”

“Excellent! We have obtained some fine vittles from President’s House. If I am not mistaken, we shall be having beef this evening.” Cockburn sipped his wine thoughtfully. “Are you a married man, sir?” he asked, changing the subject.

“No, sir. I have not had such luck,” said Jonathan. Answering the question, he thought of Amelia. What would she be doing? Instinctively, he knew that she was back with her betrothed. He worried that she might be married already. The notion made him slightly nauseous. He would do anything to get her back and hold her in his arms again. The happiness they shared had been far too brief. The pain in his thigh was nothing in comparison to the agony he felt in his heart.

“But you have a woman?” asked Cockburn, reading the man sitting across from him perfectly.

“Yes, I do. Or at least I had a woman.”

Cockburn frowned. “Oh, I didn’t mean to pry, sir.”

“It’s all right. She is English…” At that moment, Jonathan wanted nothing more than to open up to the English naval admiral. It just felt right to tell him about the woman he loved. He had bottled up his emotions for so long since Amelia had been taken from him that it hurt inside. The pain he felt incurred by the loss of the woman he loved astounded Jonathan. He was certain that it was a state worse than an agonizing death.

“English, is she?” Cockburn pleated his brow. “How did you come to meet her?” He chuckled deeply. “Abduct her, did you?”

Jonathan looked at his counterpart thoughtfully. “As a matter of fact, I did. When I was still captain of the Triton, I took a British ship bound for Canada. The woman to whom I have given my heart was on board.”

“Now, that sounds like a veritable love story.” Cockburn thanked the servant as he placed their food in front of them. “Nothing like an English woman to make a man’s heart beat faster.” He indicated with his head that they start eating. “So, what happened? You said before that you had a woman. Where is she now?” he asked, after he swallowed his first bite of beef.

“She is back in England with her betrothed,” said Jonathan, feeling the earlier pain resurface.

“That is bad luck, old boy. How did that come about?”

“I sent her on her way to Canada so that she could be reunited with her family. Only I realized what she meant to me – I could not let her leave – I followed her. But by the time I got to her close to the border, it was too late. The English captured her and her lady’s maid and that was the last I saw of her. She is back in England now. And most probably married to the son of a duke.”

“You truly are an honorable man. You did the right thing, but it pains you that you didn’t act less gentlemanly. That is a most awful position to be in, sir.” Cockburn popped some more food into his mouth and chewed in silence. He took a sip of wine. “What’s the gentleman’s name?”

“Lord Templeton French,” said Jonathan, almost spitting the words from his mouth.

Cockburn whistled. “And the lady’s?”

“Amelia Carlyle.”

Cockburn whistled again. “Their union was the talk of London when I was last there. The son of the Duke of Brandon getting married had everyone talking in the city.”

“You know the man?” asked Jonathan, looking up from his plate.

“I met him once when I was back in London - despicable bore and a coward. Men like him only ooze entitlement and nothing else. He comes from one of England’s most illustrious families though. That is his pedigree, other than that he has no accomplishments. His father is most charming though.”

Jonathan hardly listened as the Rear Admiral spoke. Amelia filled his mind with images of her beauty and way. It was all so clear to him that he felt as if he could reach out and touch her. It pleased him that the duke was considered a kind man. Maybe she would find some solace in his character.

“You must go to England, sir,” said Cockburn in his throaty voice. “Love cannot be impeded – it just wouldn’t do.”

Jonathan’s head snapped up from his idle perusal of his plate. “Excuse me, sir?”

“You must go to England…I said. Tell her and her family what you feel. Judging by your conduct and what little I know of you, I can safely say that you are gentleman and a man of honor. There is no time to lose. If you wait any longer, she will be married to that man and it would break the woman you love…not to mention you. You, sir, look downright depressed.”

The Rear Admiral was right. Jonathan and Jake had discussed going to Britain, but the war had gotten in the way of their plans.

“I could offer you passage on one of my ships,” said Cockburn. “There is one heading back in a few days. That should give you enough time to settle your affairs here.”

“That is most generous, sir. I don’t know what to say,” said Jonathan, astounded by the Englishman’s generosity.

“Anything for true love and a brave man, eh? And besides, we must all do our duty and I would be doing mine by getting a man with your obvious bravery and talents as far away as possible from the war.” He hooted laughter. “When you are gone, we might actually win this contest.”

Jonathan could not help but laugh with him. “You have a devious mind, sir.”

Cockburn tapped the side of his head. “In war, tactics and subterfuge are the order of the day. I wouldn’t be a patriot if I didn’t do all in my power to hasten my country’s victory.”

The two men toasted once more. In the meantime, the servant removed the plates. Jonathan could not believe his luck. Sometimes, God operated in mysterious ways. Fate was inexorable in its machinations. The weavers of destiny constantly worked to bring a man toward his ultimate fate. What he would do with that gift was for him to decide. But for now, Jonathan had a plan and he could see light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe soon, he would be with his beloved Amelia again.