First Bloodshed—Attitude of Political Parties—Plans for Invading Canada—Capture of Michilimackinac—Engagements at the River Raisin and Maguaga—Battle of Chicago—Hull's Surrender.
It was perhaps characteristic of the conduct of the war, that the first blood spilled should be American blood, shed by Americans. This occurred in a riot, occasioned by high party feeling, and it is a curious fact that it took place in the same city where the first blood was shed, also by riot, in the great war of the Rebellion, half a century later. In the night of June 22d, three days after the proclamation of war, a mob in Baltimore sacked the office of the Federal Republican, edited by Alexander Hanson, because he had opposed the war policy. The mob also attacked the residences of several prominent Federalists, and burned one of them. Vessels in the harbor, too, were visited and plundered. About a month later Hanson resumed the publication of his paper, and in the night of July 26th the mob gathered again. This had been expected, and Hanson was ready for them. A large number of his friends, including Generals James M. Lingan and Henry Lee, offered to assist him in protecting his property. When the rioters burst into the building, they were at once fired upon, and one of them was killed and several were wounded. The authorities were slow and timid in dealing with the riot; and when at length a force of militia was called out, instead of firing upon the mob, or capturing the ringleaders, they arrested Hanson and his friends, and lodged them in jail. The rioters, thus encouraged by those whose business it was to punish them, attacked the jail the next night, murdered General Lingan, injured General Lee so that he was a cripple for the rest of his life, and beat several of the other victims and subjected them to torture. The leaders of the mob were brought to trial, but were acquitted!
In this state of affairs, the war party in the country being but little stronger than the peace party, the youngest and almost the weakest of civilized nations went to war with one of the oldest and most powerful. The regular army of the United States numbered only six thousand men; but Congress had passed an act authorizing its increase to twenty-five thousand, and in addition to this the President was empowered to call for fifty thousand volunteers, and to use the militia to the extent of one hundred thousand. Henry Dearborn, of Massachusetts, was made a major-general and appointed to command the land forces. Against the thousand vessels and one hundred and forty-four thousand sailors of the British navy, the Americans had twenty war-ships and a few gunboats, the whole carrying about three hundred guns.
But these figures, taken alone, are deceptive; since a very large part of the British force was engaged in the European wars, and the practical question was, what force the United States could bring against so much as England could spare for operations on the high seas and on this side of the Atlantic. In that comparison, the discrepancy was not so great, and the United States had an enormous element of strength in her fine merchant marine. Her commerce being temporarily suspended to a large degree, there was an abundance both of ships and sailors, from which to build up a navy and fit out a fleet of privateers. Indeed, privateering was the business that now offered the largest prizes to mariners and ship-owners. Yet so blind was President Madison's Administration to the country's main strength and advantage, that he actually proposed to lay up all the naval vessels, as the only means of saving them from capture. Of what use it would be to save from capture war-vessels which were not to sail the sea in time of war, he seems not to have thought. From this fatal error he was saved by the pluck and foresight of Captains Stewart and Bain-bridge. Those two officers happened fortunately to be in Washington at the time, and succeeded in persuading the Administration to give up this plan and order the vessels fitted for sea at once.
War with Great Britain being determined upon, the plan of campaign that first and most strongly presented itself to the Administration was the conquest of the British provinces on our northern border. This had been attempted during the Revolution without success, but none the less confidence was felt in it now. And it was certainly correct in principle, though it proved wofully disastrous in the execution. It is observable that in all recent wars, the party on whose ground the fighting has taken place has been in the end the losing party. Thus the Mexican war in 1846-7 was fought in Mexican territory, and the Mexicans were defeated. The Crimean war was fought in Russian territory, and the Russians were defeated. The war between France and Austria, in 1859, was fought in Austrian territory, and the Austrians were defeated. The Schleswig-Holstein war was fought in Danish territory, and the Danes were defeated. The war between Prussia and Austria, in 1866, was fought in Austrian territory, and the Austrians were defeated. The Franco-German war of 1870 was fought in French territory, and France was defeated. The Russo-Turkish war of 1877 was fought in Turkish territory, and the Turks were defeated. The war of the American Rebellion was fought in territory claimed by the rebels, and they were defeated. It only needs that a war should continue long enough for us to see where the battle-ground is to be, and we can then tell what will be its result. The reason is obvious. A nation that is strong enough to carry the war into its enemy's country, and keep it there, will certainly prove strong enough to win in the end, unless interference by some other power prevents it; while a nation that is too weak to keep war, with all its devastation and ruin, out of its territory, must certainly be defeated unless assisted by some neighboring people. The invaders may, and probably will, lose the greater number of men in the pitched battles; but it is not their harvests that will be trampled, not their mills that will be burned, not their bridges that will be blown up, not their homes that will be desolated, not their families that must fly for shelter to the caves and the forests. Their sources of supply are untouched. This principle was recognized by Scipio, when he declared that the war with Carthage "must be carried into Africa." As England claimed to be mistress of the seas, and practically the claim was almost true, the determination to send our little navy and a fleet of privateers against her was essentially carrying the war into English territory. And as this part of the contest was conducted with skill and valor, it was gloriously successful.
An invasion of Canada being determined upon, the first question that necessarily arose was, at what point that country should first be attacked. To any one not skilled in military science the most obvious plan would seem the best—to march as large a force as possible, without delay, into Canada at the nearest point. A young officer, Major Jesup, of Kentucky, sent a memorial to the Secretary of War, in which he set forth a totally different plan from this. He proposed that a strong expedition should be fitted out to capture and hold Halifax, which was then a city of fifteen thousand inhabitants, with the most important harbor in the Canadian provinces. As a precedent, he could refer to the capture of Louis-burg in 1748. But the Secretary, Hon. William Eustis, of Massachusetts, spoke of it contemptuously as "a very pretty plan," and set it aside. Yet it was sound in principle, and if properly carried out could hardly have failed to secure important results. In striking an enemy on the flank, it is always desirable, to choose that flank by which he holds communication with his base. A blow on the other flank may inflict injury, but it only drives him back toward his base. A movement that cuts him off from such communication compels him either to surrender or to fight at great disadvantage Canada's base—for many supplies, and largely for soldiers—was England. The port of Quebec was frozen up nearly half the year, and the occupation of Halifax by an American force would have gone far toward severing the connection between the provinces and the mother country. That harbor, too, was all-important for the refuge and refitting of British naval vessels on this side of the Atlantic.
Looking at the matter as purely a military problem, it was a pity that this brilliant plan was not adopted. But in a larger consideration it is probably fortunate for us that it was not. It might have resulted—indeed, that was contemplated in the plan—in leaving the Americans, at the close of the war, in possession of Canada. As the structure of our government almost precludes the holding of conquered provinces as such for any length of time, the Canadas must have soon become States of the Republic. But, so far from that being desirable in 1815, it may be doubted whether even yet the time has arrived when it would be wise to incorporate that undesirable population, in a body as they are, with the people of the United States.
In planning for the invasion of Canada, the Administration counted largely upon a supposed readiness of the Canadians to throw off their allegiance to Great Britain and join with the United States. Such expectations have almost never been realized, and in this instance they were completely disappointed.
In the preceding February, William Hull, Governor of the Territory of Michigan, who had rendered distinguished service in the Revolution, had been made a brigadier-general and placed in command of the forces in Ohio, with orders to march them to Detroit, to protect the Territory against the Indians, who were becoming troublesome. In June he was in command of about two thousand men, in northern Ohio, moving slowly through the wilderness. On the day when war was declared, June 18th, the Secretary of War wrote him two letters. The first, in which the declaration was not mentioned, was despatched by a special messenger, and reached General Hull on the 24th. The other informed him of the declaration of war, but was sent by mail to Cleveland, there to take its chance of reaching the General by whatever conveyance might be found. The consequence was, that he did not receive it till the 2d of July. But every British commander in Canada learned the news several days earlier.
Hull arrived at Detroit on the 5th of July, and set about organizing his forces. On the 9th he received from the War Department orders to begin the invasion of Canada by taking possession of Malden, fifteen miles below Detroit, on the other side of the river, if he thought he could do so with safety to his own posts.
He crossed on the 12th, and issued a proclamation to the Canadians. In this he told them that he came to do no injury to peaceable citizens, who might remain at their homes and pursue their usual occupations in security; that he neither asked nor needed their help, but would accept the services of such as might volunteer; and that no quarter would be given to any who adopted Indian modes of warfare or were found fighting in company with the savages who were accustomed to scalp prisoners and murder non-combatants. After the campaign had resulted disastrously, General Hull was censured and ridiculed for this proclamation; but a copy had been transmitted to the Secretary of War, and approved by him; and indeed, if a proclamation was to be issued, it is difficult to find any serious fault with Hull's. The error was in issuing any at all—a thing which a general seldom does with any good effect.
Hull fortified his camp on the east side of the river, and while waiting for his artillery sent out reconnoitring parties toward Fort Malden, and detachments to bring in supplies. As his troops grew impatient, he called a council of war, explained the situation to his officers, and offered to lead them in an attempt to carry the fort by storm, without waiting for artillery, if they thought their men could be relied upon for such an enterprise. Colonel Miller answered that his regiment of regulars could be depended upon for anything they might be ordered to do; but the three militia colonels very wisely answered that raw militia could not be expected to storm a fortified place, unaided by artillery—one of the most hazardous of all military exploits.
So it was decided to defer the attack, and in a few days came the news that on the declaration of war, a force of over six hundred—British and Indians—had promptly moved against the American post at Michilimackinac—on the rocky little island of Mackinaw, commanding the strait between Lake Huron and Lake Michigan—and the garrison of sixty-one officers and men capitulated on the 16th of July. This disaster to the Americans roused the Indians to renewed hostility against them, while it proportionately disheartened Hull, and seems to have been the first step in the breaking down of his courage. After a few skirmishes, he recrossed to Detroit on the 7th of August.
Meanwhile the British Colonel Proctor had arrived at Malden with reënforcements, and on Hull's withdrawal to Detroit he threw a force across the river to intercept his supplies. This force consisted of a small number of British regulars and a considerable number of Indians commanded by the famous Tecumseh.
Learning that a supply train, accompanied by a few volunteers, was coming to him and had got as far as the River Raisin, about thirty-five miles south of Detroit, General Hull sent out a detachment of about two hundred men, under Major Thomas B. Van Horne, to meet it and escort it to camp. This detachment was attacked by the British and savages at Brownstown, twenty miles from Detroit. Van Horne was surprised, and retreated to the edge of a wood. His men behaved badly, and could not be got into line, another retreat was ordered, and finally they ran away in confusion, having lost eighteen killed, twelve wounded, and seventy missing.
Hull sent out another detachment, of six hundred men, under Lieutenant-Colonel James Miller, to open communication with the supply train, which was more fortunate. At Maguaga, fourteen miles from Detroit, they came upon the enemy intrenched behind a breastwork of logs. The British were commanded by Major Muir, the savages by Tecumseh.
Miller at once ordered a bayonet charge, which his men executed in gallant style. The enemy were driven from their works, after some hard fighting, and pursued for two miles. They finally reached their boats, and crossed to Malden, but nearly a hundred Indians lay dead on the field, and the English had lost fifteen killed and forty wounded. The American loss was fifteen killed and sixty wounded. Instead of pushing on to the River Raisin, and securing the supplies. Colonel Miller returned with his command to Detroit.
As the direct road on which all these operations had taken place lay along the river-bank, in sight of the enemy and exposed to the fire of his gunboats, Hull now sent out a detachment under Colonels McArthur and Cass, to escort the train by a circuitous route, farther from the river.
During this gloomy state of things at Detroit, a bloody affair took place on ground that is now within the city of Chicago. Fort Dearborn stood at the mouth of Chicago River, and was occupied by a garrison of about fifty soldiers, with several families. Captain Nathan Heald, commanding the post, had been ordered by General Hull to abandon it and remove his force to Detroit. With so small a force, moving more than two hundred miles through a wilderness in time of war, it was especially desirable to retain the good will of the Indians. Captain Heald accordingly called a council of those who professed to be friendly, told them of his intended movement, and promised to give them all the property in the fort that he could not take with him, at which they were greatly pleased. But in the night, knowing their intemperance and fearing their treachery, he destroyed all the alcohol, firearms, and gunpowder which he could not take away. These were the very articles that the Indians most highly valued, and when, after his departure next morning (August 15th), they discovered the trick that had been played them, they were very much enraged, and hurried on to overtake him. He was moving slowly southward along the shore of the lake, when the crest of a low range of sand-hills on his right was suddenly lighted up with a blaze of musketry. The savages were there in ambush, mercilessly firing upon the little caravan. As quickly as possible the wagons were drawn up together, and the women and children given shelter in and behind them, while the soldiers stood their ground, and returned the fire of the Indians. It was a brave and bloody fight, and when some of the men had fallen the women took up their rifles and fired upon the savages with all the courage and coolness of soldiers. But after heavy losses, the survivors of the party were compelled to surrender. In the course of the fight, an Indian had made his way to the wagons, and, springing into one in which twelve children had been placed, tomahawked every one of them. The victorious savages scalped all the wounded, claiming that they had not been included in the capitulation, and the bloody trophies were sold to Colonel Proctor, who had offered a premium for American scalps.
The fight near Fort Dearborn took place on the same day that the detachment under Colonels McArthur and Cass left Detroit. The next day, August 15th, the British General Isaac Brock, who had arrived at Malden a few days before and assumed command there, formally demanded the surrender of Detroit. This demand included a plain threat of massacre in case of refusal. Said Brock in his letter: "It is far from my intention to join in a war of extermination; but you must be aware that the numerous bodies of Indians who have attached themselves to my troops will be beyond my control the moment the contest commences." This is a fine example of the art of putting things; The reader would suppose from Brock's words—"the Indians who have attached themselves to my troops"—that the savages in red skins had insisted on accompanying the expedition in spite of the most strenuous efforts on the part of the savages in red coats to shake them off; whereas Brock had just held a formal council with the Indians, and regularly arranged the terms of alliance. Two years later, when peace was being negotiated, the British commissioners spoke of these Indians, not as an irresponsible force, but as regular allies, who must share in the treaty.
General Hull gave a defiant reply, ordered McArthur and Cass to return at once with their detachment, and made admirable arrangements to defend the place. In the afternoon there was an artillery duel between two twenty-four pounders in the fort and a British battery at Sandwich on the opposite side of the river.
Brock's force, according to his own testimony, numbered 1330 men, including 600 Indians, and he had also two ships of war. Hull had present for duty about 1000 men. * Brock sent a large body of Indians across the river that night, at a point five
* It is impossible to reconcile the conflicting statements as to the numbers on either side.
miles below the fort, and early in the morning crossed with the remainder of his troops, and at once marched on the place. Hull had posted his regulars in the fort, and his militia in the town, where the stout palings that surrounded the little kitchen gardens gave them an admirable shelter. The two twenty-four pounders were loaded heavily with grape and placed so as to command the road by which the enemy was approaching, in close order, twelve deep. Never was there a better opportunity to do wholesale execution by a single discharge. Everybody was watching in breathless expectation to see the match applied and the murderous iron go surging through those beautiful ranks, when, to the astonishment cf friend and foe alike, a white flag was hung out upon the wall of the fort. Brock himself was surprised, when, sending to know what it meant, he learned that Hull had determined to surrender. The articles of capitulation were drawn up, and the American general surrendered not merely the fort and its garrison, but the whole Territory of Michigan, of which he was Governor. Thus ended this miserable campaign.
Hull's officers were incensed at his action, and he was subsequently court-martialled, convicted of cowardice, and condemned to death; but the President pardoned him, in consideration of his age and his services in the Revolution. The points of his defence were: that an army in a situation like his, cut off from its supplies, must surrender sooner or later; that if he had given battle, it would have exposed all the inhabitants of the Territory to Indian barbarities; that his situation was the fault of the Administration, rather than his own; that his force was inferior to Brock's; and that his provisions were nearly exhausted. Benedict Arnold himself was hardly held in greater contempt by the American people than was General Hull for years after his trial. Many believed him to be more traitor than coward. This state of feeling was largely due to Colonel Lewis Cass—nearly forty years later a candidate for the Presidency—who hurried to Washington with the news, and greatly exaggerated the circumstances that bore against Hull. Cass's action in this matter was exceedingly discreditable. On one point, the important question of supplies, a letter written by him two days before the surrender was flatly contradicted by his testimony at the trial. Subsequent investigations, if they do not exonerate General Hull, have at least greatly modified the blame attached to him.
Tecumseh's Scheme—Harrison's March to Fort Wayne—Defence of Fort Harrison—Defence of Fort Madison—Ball's Fight.
The great Indian leader, Tecumseh, cherished a design similar to that of Pontiac in the previous century. He wanted to unite all the northwestern tribes in an effort to drive the white man out of the country, or at least out of the Northwestern Territory. For the prosecution of this design the disasters which the Americans had sustained in the fall of Michilimackinac, Fort Dearborn, and Detroit seemed an auspicious opening, and Tecumseh endeavored to follow it up promptly with attacks on the other frontier posts held by United States troops. The most important of these were Fort Wayne, on the present site of Fort Wayne, Indiana, and Fort Harrison, on the Wabash, above Terre Haute.
A force of Kentuckians had been gathered in August and placed under command of General William Henry Harrison, afterward President of the United States, destined for the reënforcement of Hull at Detroit. But after the news of his surrender, it was directed to the relief of Fort Wayne, to reach which required a long march through the wilderness of western Ohio. A journal kept by one of the soldiers on this march, Elias Darnell, is still extant. It contains many amusing and suggestive anecdotes. Under date of September 5th he says: "General Harrison, having paraded the remaining part of the army in a circle in close order, delivered a speech to them, stating that he had just received intelligence from Fort Wayne; that it was in great danger of being taken by the Indians and British; he said that we were under the necessity of making a forced march to their relief. He read some of the articles of war, and stated the absolute necessity of such regulations and restrictions in an army, and if there were any who could not feel willing to submit to those articles and go on with him, they might then return home. One man, belonging to Colonel Scott's regiment, made a choice of returning home, rather than submit to those terms. Some of his acquaintances got a permit to escort him part of the way home. Two of them got him upon a rail and carried him to the river; a crowd followed after; they ducked him several times in the water, and washed away all his patriotism." The danger from firearms in the hands of undisciplined volunteers is shown by these passages: "One of Captain McGowen's company was accidentally shot through the body by one of the sentinels." "A man was accidentally shot through the head by one of the mounted riflemen."
"One of the light horsemen wounded a man as he was feeding his horse, believing him to be an Indian." The privations of such an expedition are well illustrated by this: "We marched through some first-rate woodland, and through a prairie of the best quality. It is badly watered; the water in the wagon-ruts was the only drink we could get to cool our scorching thirst, and but very little of that." And the romantic incidents by this: "The tomb of a chief was discovered; it was built on the ground with timber and clay, so that no rain or air could enter. The chief was laid on his blanket, his head toward sunrise, his rifle by his side, his tin pan on his breast, with a spoon in it; he was ornamented in their style, with ear-rings, brooches, etc."
Fort Wayne, which was well provisioned and had a garrison of about seventy men, commanded by Captain Rhea, was besieged by the Indians for two weeks. A portion of General Harmar's expedition had been defeated by the savages on this spot twenty-two years before. The fort now had four small field-pieces, and was otherwise well equipped. The Indians at first professed to be friendly, and tried by all means to surprise the garrison. Then they mounted logs to look like siege guns. But the wary Captain Rhea was not to be deceived, and on the approach of Harrison's expedition, September 12th, the besiegers decamped. Their villages and cornfields in the neighborhood were destroyed.
Fort Harrison was less fortunate than Fort Wayne. It was commanded by Captain Zachary Taylor, who was afterward President of the United States. His force was very small, and had been reduced by sickness to about fifteen effective men. On the 3d of September two young settlers were killed and scalped near the fort by Indians. The next day thirty or forty of the savages appeared with a white flag, asked for admission to the fort, and wanted something to eat. Taylor had been warned to expect an attack, was on his guard, and refused to open the gates. Near midnight a block-house which formed part of the outer line of fortifications was found to be on fire. The crowd of savages outside was now swelled to several hundreds, and what with their horrible yelling and the cries of nine women and children inside the fort, and the rapidly spreading flames, the little garrison was thrown into considerable confusion. The destruction of the block-house would open a gap through which the Indians would quickly pour in a swarm, and then woe to the little band of whites! But Captain Taylor never lost his coolness for a moment. He ordered the part of the roof of the barracks which was nearest to the fire to be thrown down, and the end of the barracks kept wet. The invalids and convalescents manned the two bastions and the other blockhouse, and kept up a fire on the Indians, to protect the men who were at work on the roof. This fight against a double foe was kept up for eight hours; and the garrison not only prevented the fire from spreading, but erected a temporary breastwork to cover the gap made by the destruction of the blockhouse, and thus completely foiled the Indians, who disappeared next day, driving off as many as possible of the cattle belonging to the neighboring farmers. Of the garrison, two men were killed and two wounded. For this skilful and gallant action, Taylor was made a major. A passage in his official report of the affair is interesting, not as having any bearing on the result, but because by detailing the experience of two individuals it gives us a vivid idea of the manner in which such contests were conducted. He says: "One man lost his life by being too anxious; he got into one of the galleys in the bastions, and fired over the pickets, and called out to his comrades that he had killed an Indian, and neglecting to stoop down, in an instant he was shot dead. One of the men that jumped the pickets returned an hour before day, and, running up toward the gate, begged for God's sake for it to be opened. I suspected it to be a stratagem of the Indians to get in, as I did not recollect the voice; I directed the men in the bastion, where I happened to be, to shoot him, let him be who he would; and one of them fired at him, but fortunately he ran up to the other bastion, where they knew his voice, and Dr. Clark directed him to lie down close to the pickets, behind an empty barrel that happened to be there, and at daylight I had him let in. His arm was broke in a most shocking manner, which he says was done by the Indians—which I suppose was the cause of his returning. The other they caught about one hundred and thirty yards from the garrison, and cut him all to pieces."
Fort Madison, which had been built in an exposed and badly chosen situation on the bank of the Mississippi, near the site of St. Louis, was attacked on the 5th of September by more than two hundred Indians, Winnebagos. They approached stealthily, caught one of the garrison outside of the fort, and shot and scalped him within sight of his comrades on the walls. Firing was kept up on both sides for two days, but with little effect. On the 7th the savages displayed on poles the head and heart of the man they had killed, and later in the day tried to destroy the buildings by shooting upon the roofs arrows to which they had tied combustible matter and set it on fire. As at Fort Harrison, the appearance of fire created a panic among the men; but the commander, Lieutenant Hamilton, was equal to the occasion. He ordered eight old gun-barrels to be made into syringes, and small holes to be broken through the roof from the inside. Thrusting up the syringes through these holes, the men were able in a few minutes to make the roof as wet as if a heavy shower had fallen, which completely baffled the design of the enemy. On the 8th the Indians took possession of an old stable near the fort, and renewed the fight; but a few cannon-shot were sent crashing through the stable, while the gun-barrel syringes did duty as before, and the savages then withdrew.
Besides these actions at the forts, there were numerous encounters between small parties of white men and Indians, in which often great skill and courage were displayed. One of the most noteworthy was Colonel Ball's fight. That officer was descending the bank of Sandusky River with twenty-two mounted men, when a party of Indians about equal to their own numbers fired upon them from ambush. Ball and his men charged into the ambuscade, drove out the savages, and killed the chiefs. Ball was dismounted, and struggling with a gigantic chief, when one of his men came up and shot the Indian. The remaining Indians then became furious, and gave the signal for no quarter. Ball's men understood the situation, and fought without flinching, till they had killed every one of their antagonists. This affair had a wholesome effect upon the Indians of that region, and for some time the settlers were unmolested.
Fight at Gananoqui—Expedition against Ogdensburg—Elliott captures two War-vessels—Gathering of Forces on the Niagara—Battle of Queenstown—Death of General Brock.
Hull's surrender by no means put an end to the design of invading Canada, but neither did it have any effect in changing the vicious plan of striking the enemy on the wrong flank.
In the night of September 20th, Captain Benjamin Forsyth embarked at Cape Vincent, New York, with about a hundred men, and in the morning landed near the village of Gananoqui, Canada. Here an engagement took place with about an equal number of British troops—regulars and militia—at the close of which the enemy fled, leaving ten men dead on the field and several wounded and prisoners. Captain Forsyth then burned the military storehouse—which was the object of his expedition—paroled the captured militia, and returned to the American shore with a few regulars as prisoners of war and a considerable quantity of arms and ammunition. One man of his party had been killed. In retaliation, the Canadians fitted out a much more formidable expedition against Ogdensburg. It consisted of about seven hundred and fifty men, who on the 2d of October embarked in forty boats, and under the escort of two gunboats moved up the St. Lawrence. At the same time, the British batteries at Prescott, opposite Ogdensburg, opened fire on that place, which was returned by an American battery. The next day was spent in preparations, and in the forenoon of Sunday, the 4th, the final embarkation was made from Prescott, in twenty-five boats and the two gunboats. As a blind, they proceeded up the river past Ogdensburg for some distance. Then suddenly they turned about and bore down upon that place, while at the same instant the British batteries reopened fire on the village. The American battery, together with a company of riflemen, all under command of General Jacob Brown, reserved fire till the flotilla was within point-blank range, and then opened all at once, the fire was returned, and kept up steadily for an hour. Two of the boats were so damaged that they had to be abandoned, and another, with its crew, was captured. The expedition then returned to Prescott without having effected a landing on American soil.
In the surrender of Detroit was included the brig-of-war Adams, which left the Americans with no naval force whatever on the upper lakes. Lieutenant Jesse D. Elliott, of the navy, was sent to Buffalo to organize a flotilla, and soon after a detachment of sailors to man it was ordered thither from New York. In October the Adams, which the British had renamed Detroit, and a smaller vessel, the Caledonia, which had taken part in the capture of Michilimackinac, came down Lake Erie, and cast anchor near Fort Erie. Elliott formed a plan for their capture, and with a force of fifty sailors and fifty soldiers embarked in boats at midnight of the 8th. They rowed silently across the river, and before they were discovered leaped upon the decks of the vessels, secured the crews, weighed anchor, and headed for the American shore. As the wind was too light to carry them up stream, they were obliged to run down past the British batteries. The Caledonia, which had a valuable cargo of furs, was run ashore at Black Rock and secured. The Detroit fought the enemy's batteries while unsuccessful efforts were made to tow her beyond their reach. Finally she drifted ashore at Squaw Island, where her captors abandoned her, taking away their prisoners. A party of British soldiers subsequently boarded her, but were driven off by fire from a battery. In the course of the day she underwent a heavy fire from both sides, and in the evening a British party were preparing to recover her, when they were anticipated by an American party who boarded her and set her on fire. For this exploit, in which half a dozen of his men were killed, Congress gave Lieutenant Elliott a vote of thanks and a sword.
These comparatively trifling incidents of border war were succeeded by one much more serious, though not more effective. In the summer General Dearborn had entered into an armistice with Sir George Prevost, the British commander in Canada, which set free the enemy's troops on the Niagara frontier, who were promptly moved against Hull at Detroit. That campaign being finished, a large part of them was drawn back to the line of the Niagara, and when in the autumn a movement in that quarter was contemplated by the Americans, they were confronted by a considerable force at every point where a crossing was possible, while General Brock, the victor of Detroit, was on the ground, commanding the whole, and ready to concentrate them at any point that might be attacked. He expected the crossing to take place at the mouth of the river.
General Stephen Van Rensselaer, commanding all the forces on the American side of the Niagara, determined to cross from Lewiston, at the foot of the rapids, seven miles below the great Falls, and seize Queenstown. The importance of the place arose from the fact that it was the terminus of the portage between Lake Ontario and the upper lakes. At this point the high ground through which the great Chasm of the river below the Falls has been cut slopes down to a lower plateau, on which stands the village of Queenstown.
The British had one piece of artillery on the Heights, south of the village, and another on the bank of the river a mile below. It was believed by many that General Van Rensselaer, who had been a prominent Federalist, was opposed to the war and purposely delayed moving against the enemy. Whether this was true or not, the discontent with his tardiness was so loudly expressed and had begun so to demoralize his troops, that at last he acknowledged himself compelled by it to move. He had minute information as to the situation and strength of each post of the enemy on the western bank of the river, and could choose his own point for crossing. He had about six thousand troops under his command—regulars, volunteers, and militia. The immediate command of the attacking force was assigned to his cousin, Lieutenant-Colonel Solomon Van Rensselaer, which occasioned serious dissatisfaction, because he was only an officer of New York militia, while some of the officers who had been ordered to join the expedition were commissioned in the United States regular army, and therefore ranked him.
Thirteen large boats, capable of carrying 340 men, with their equipments, were brought on wagons and launched at Lewiston on the 10th of October, and arrangements were made for crossing before daylight the next morning.
That night a cold, northeast storm set in, and the troops, who were promptly brought to the rendezvous, stood shivering for hours in the rain and darkness, on the river-bank, waiting for the boats, which, did not come. At length day dawned, and the crossing had to be postponed. It afterward appeared that the boats had been intrusted to one Lieutenant Sims, who was said to have taken them up the river, far beyond the point at which they were wanted, and then abandoned the expedition. No sufficient motive has ever been assigned for this extraordinary conduct on the part of the lieutenant. It has been suggested that he was so incensed at seeing the command given to an officer of militia, that he was willing to destroy his own reputation, if he had any, for the sake of frustrating the movement.
Two days later the attempt was renewed. Three hundred regulars under Lieutenant-Colonel John Chrystie, and an equal number of militia under Colonel Van Rensselaer, were to cross the river before daybreak of the 13th, and storm the Heights of Queenstown, and the remainder of the troops to follow and reenforce them. Lieutenant-Colonel Winfield Scott arrived from Buffalo on the evening of the 12th, and asked leave to join the expedition, but was refused. Yet he placed a battery on Lewiston Heights, to protect the troops while they were crossing.
It was still cold and stormy when the embarkation took place. All the regulars and a few of the militia crossed, and ten of the boats returned for a second load. The other three boats, in one of which was Chrystie, had missed their way in going over.
A force of the enemy, under Captain Dennis, moved down promptly to resist the landing, and some of the Americans were killed or wounded before they stepped on shore. Captain John E. Wool, being the senior officer present, assumed the command, and quickly moved his troops up the bank, where they formed in line at the foot of the Heights. The enemy was reenforced almost at the same time, and attacked the Americans in front and on the right flank with artillery and musketry. Wool stood his ground, though he had no artillery, and a short but bloody fight ensued. Of the ten officers of regulars, two were killed, and four, including Wool himself, severely wounded. The left wing was composed of the militia. There the fighting was less severe, but Lieutenant-Colonel Van Rensselaer was so seriously wounded that he was obliged to withdraw from the contest and recross the river. The steady and well-directed fire of Wool's men drove the enemy's left wing back into the village; but his right wing, stationed on the Heights, was unmoved. Annoyed by the fire from that quarter, the Americans fell back to the river-bank to re-form, and were soon reenforced by another company of regulars.
Receiving leave, rather than orders, from Van Rensselaer to capture the Heights, Wool placed the fresh troops on his right, and set out upon the task, while Lieutenant Lush followed in rear of the column, with orders to shoot down any man who faltered. Wool first moved his command southward along the water's edge, the bank sheltering them from the sight of the enemy, and then at the point where the gorge of the river made a sharp edge, as it were, to the Heights began the ascent, still out of sight of the battery-men. In many places the pathway was so steep and rugged that the soldiers had to use their muskets like alpenstocks, and climb by seizing the bushes, and "boost" one another. Wool was foremost in the scramble, and near the top found a fisherman's path which led to the plateau, and had been left unguarded because it was supposed to be impassable. By this path they gained the Summit, and silently filed out upon the plain to the rear and right of the British battery.
Meanwhile General Brock, hearing the sounds of battle, had ridden up rapidly from Fort George at the mouth of the river, and now stood near this battery, watching the operations below. A sudden volley of musketry in the rear startled him, and the appearance of Wool's column rushing down upon the battery caused him to retreat down the slope without waiting to mount his horse, followed by his staff and the artillerymen, and their entire infantry support. When the sun rose, a few minutes later, it shone upon the American flag floating over the captured works.
Brock sent orders to General Sheaffe at Fort George to bring up reënforcements, and at the same time to open an artillery fire on Fort Niagara, on the opposite bank; for the British commander had been all the while of opinion that the movement on Queenstown was but a feint, and that the real attack would be made at the mouth of the river. Without waiting for the reënforcements. Brock placed himself at the head of the troops that had just been driven from the Heights, and the troops in the village, and attempted to recapture the lost position. As the assaulting force moved up the slope, it bore to the west, to envelop the left flank of the Americans. Wool sent a detachment to check this movement; but his men were too few, and his whole command was forced back till it stood with a powerful enemy in front and a precipice behind it. At this point of time, a captain raised a white handkerchief on the point of a bayonet; but in an instant Wool tore it down with his own hands, and then, addressing a few inspiriting words to his men, he persuaded them to re-form their somewhat broken ranks, and keep up a steady and effective fire. When their ammunition was nearly exhausted, they made a gallant bayonet charge which drove the enemy down the slope.
Brock rallied his troops for another assault, received a few reënforcements, and was just setting the column in motion when a bullet struck his breast and he fell mortally wounded. His troops, now under command of Lieutenant-Colonel McDonell, rushed forward with the cry of "Revenge the General!" but to no purpose. Wool's little band stood firm, and drove back the enemy once more with serious loss, McDonell being mortally wounded, and the two officers next in command disabled, while ten men and an Indian Chief remained with the Americans as prisoners. The troops who had accomplished this gallant feat were recruits who had never seen service before, and their leader, now but twenty-three years of age, had not received a military education, but was a bookseller and then a law-student, until commissioned as a captain.
About ten o'clock reënforcements were sent over to Wool, and Lieutenant-Colonels Winfield Scott and John Chrystie, and General William Wadsworth, soon followed them. The last-named officer, who was in plain clothes, modestly made known his rank, but insisted that the command should be assumed by Scott, whom he heartily and efficiently supported. * Wool was now, from loss of blood, obliged to withdraw from the field. Scott had about six hundred men—three hundred and fifty regulars and two hundred and fifty militia. He placed them in position to repel any attack of the enemy, and at the same time to cover the crossing of the remaining militia, which was to be sent over to him at once.
All this time General Roger H. Sheaffe was hurrying up from Fort George with troops, in obedience to the orders sent to him by Brock in the morning. He arrived on the field, and was ready for action
* He was uncle of General James S. Wadsworth, who was killed in the battle of the Wilderness in 1864.
about two o'clock. His entire force consisted of about thirteen hundred soldiers and five hundred Indians.
The militia on the American shore could overlook the field of battle, and saw the approach of Sheaffe. But when General Van Rensselaer attempted to move them across the river to the support of their victorious but hard-pressed countrymen, they refused to stir. The law provides that militia shall not be compelled to serve beyond the bounds of the State against their will; the men fell back upon this privilege, and all entreaty was in vain. This action—or non-action—on the part of the militia has subjected them to severe censure, and has uniformly been attributed to pure cowardice. But while it was probably not altogether justifiable, there were some circumstances, not generally mentioned, which partially excuse it. For instance, they knew that, through gross mismanagement, all the boats, except one small scow, had been allowed to float off down the current or be captured by the enemy; and hence if they crossed it must be by a small boatload at a time, instead of in a body.
In spite of this disappointment, Scott resolved to make the best fight he could with what troops he had. The first attack was made on his left flank by the Indians, who were commanded by John Brant, a son of the Joseph Brant of Revolutionary fame. This attack Scott repelled with gallant bayonet charges; but when about four o'clock Sheaffe moved up his whole force, and doubled back the right flank, the Americans were obliged to retreat. A few let themselves down the precipice, clambering from ledge to ledge and bush bush to bush, but when they reached the water's edge there were no boats to receive them. The greater part retreated a short distance along the road leading from Queenstown to the Falls; but seeing escape was impossible, they surrendered in a body. To do this, they had to send a flag of trace through the line of Indians, and it was three times fired upon before it finally reached the British commander. The last time it was borne by Scott in person.
So fended the battle of Queenstown, which was a very remarkable action, and with better management might have had a different termination. General Van Rensselaer, in his official despatches, labored to create the impression that the refusal of the militia to cross the stream was the whole cause of the final disaster, and at the same time he studiously avoided mentioning the names of the officers—Wool and Scott—to whom was due the credit for all the successes and glory of the day.
The Americans, in this series of engagements, lost about ninety men killed, a hundred wounded, and nearly a thousand taken prisoners. The British loss has never been determined. The American prisoners were sent to Quebec, where twenty-three Irishmen were separated from the others and sent to England to be tried for treason, on the ground that they were British subjects and had been fighting against their own flag. As soon as the American authorities had an equal number of prisoners in their possession they placed them in close confinement, and gave notice that their fate would be determined by that of the twenty-three Irishmen. People who know nothing of historical experience in such matters always cry out against any proposal of retaliation, arguing that it will simply result in the murder of all the prisoners on both sides. As a matter of fact, when retaliation is promptly and firmly threatened for violation of the laws of war, it always has the effect of stopping the outrage. And so it proved in this case; for twenty-one of the captured Irishmen lived to return to their adopted country. The other two died in prison.
During the funeral of General Brock, minute guns were fired by the Americans on the eastern bank of the river, "as a mark of respect to a brave enemy." There was perhaps no harm in this little bit of sentiment, though if the Americans remembered that two months before, in demanding the surrender of Detroit, General Brock had threatened to let loose a horde of savages upon the garrison and town, if he were compelled to capture it by force, they must have seen that their minute guns were supremely illogical, not to say silly. Brownell, in one of his best poems, expresses the true sentiment for such a case:
"The Muse would weep for the brave,
But how shall she chant the wrong?
When, for the wrongs that were,
Hath she lilted a single stave?
Know, proud hearts, that, with her,
'Tis not enough to be brave."