After roundly cursing the stubborn Spaniards, Anthony Wayne ordered a fierce assault on Baton Rouge.
Although the American forces held an absolute advantage in numbers, Elcano had spent the past several months constructing five or six lines of defense north of the city. With his troops now hunkering down in full defense, the Americans truly could not bite through the place in a short time.
Two days later, Wayne was directing a death-defying unit across the enemy's outermost defensive line when a messenger officer suddenly rushed over to report, "General, Mr. Wilson, the 'mayor' of Natchez, has something extremely urgent to discuss with you."
Wayne could not help frowning.
Natchez was Fort Rosalie from France's colonial era in Louisiana, the largest American settlement along the lower Mississippi River. No formal city had yet been established there, but because of its sizable population, the Mississippi Provisional Territorial Government had appointed someone to administer it. Everyone was accustomed to calling him the mayor.
For this mayor to personally come running to the front lines, something serious must have happened.
Wayne looked toward the troops that were on the verge of capturing the defenses of Spain and told the messenger officer, "Have him wait a moment..."
Unexpectedly, before he could finish speaking, Mayor Wilson came running into his temporary command post, drenched in sweat. He hurriedly bowed and said anxiously, "General Wayne, please immediately send troops to reinforce the Port of New Orleans. Over the past few days, we have already lost thirteen ships...
"Oh, yesterday, a small boat escaped from the port under cover of darkness. The people aboard said those savage Indians had declared that after emptying the docks of all their ships, they would set fire to the port..."
Wayne's head immediately swam.
Had these Indians gone mad? Robbing things